The Ritz London: The Cookbook

Williams, executive chef at the Ritz London (established in 1906), hails from a humble background, but cooks haute cuisine. In this distinctive cookbook, he writes that he disavows the phrase “fine dining,” in an introduction that ranges from Auguste Escoffier to Williams’s upbringing as one of six children and the Sunday meat-and-potato lunches he helped prep. It’s a long way from mint sauce made in a chipped bowl to tomato elixir with Parmesan foam, but Williams’s down-to-earth touch allows him to bridge the gap, as with an “aromatic nage” of langoustines that brings back memories of the bags of fish his fisherman father lugged home. Still, readers are unlikely to attempt a deconstructed trifle with seven different components. Williams contributes essays on the likes of crafting a proper sauce for, say the poached veal cheek in a blanquette sauce (“We taste first with our eyes. The sauce should be shiny and glossy, with a sheen that glows”), and he shares thoughts from his staff throughout: the director of food and beverage discusses carving meat (“Good posture at the carving board leads to good carving”) and the head hall porter shares memories of nearly 50 years at the hotel (the Queen Mother rested her “royal feet” on a stool when she came for lunch). As for the recipes themselves, Williams includes such restaurant favorites as the sea bass en croute, roasted guinea fowl, and the Mont Blanc for dessert. Canapés, items for afternoon tea, petits fours, and even some breakfast food, like kedgeree, are worked in. This upscale offering is wholly in keeping with its subject: elegant, carefully studied, and more aspirational than practical. [em](Oct.) [/em]