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Atelier Crenn: Metamorphosis of Taste
The debut cookbook from the first female chef in America to earn two Michelin stars
Atelier Crenn is the debut cookbook of Dominique Crenn, the first female chef in America to be awarded two Michelin stars—and arguably the greatest female chef in the country. This gorgeous book traces Crenn’s rise from her childhood in France to her unprecedented success with her own restaurant, Atelier Crenn, in San Francisco. Crenn’s food is centered around organic, sustainable ingredients with an unusual, inventive, and always stunning presentation. To put it simply, Crenn’s dishes are works of art. Her recipes reflect her poetic nature with evocative names like “A Walk in the Forest,” “Birth,” and “The Sea.” Even the dishes that sound familiar, like Fish and Chips, or Broccoli and Beef Tartare, challenge the expected with their surprising components and her signature creative plating. This impressive and beautiful cookbook by a chef who is often the only woman to be mentioned in the same breath with other culinary giants is bound to captivate the food world.
Atelier Crenn is the debut cookbook of Dominique Crenn, the first female chef in America to be awarded two Michelin stars—and arguably the greatest female chef in the country. This gorgeous book traces Crenn’s rise from her childhood in France to her unprecedented success with her own restaurant, Atelier Crenn, in San Francisco. Crenn’s food is centered around organic, sustainable ingredients with an unusual, inventive, and always stunning presentation. To put it simply, Crenn’s dishes are works of art. Her recipes reflect her poetic nature with evocative names like “A Walk in the Forest,” “Birth,” and “The Sea.” Even the dishes that sound familiar, like Fish and Chips, or Broccoli and Beef Tartare, challenge the expected with their surprising components and her signature creative plating. This impressive and beautiful cookbook by a chef who is often the only woman to be mentioned in the same breath with other culinary giants is bound to captivate the food world.
376 pages, Hardcover
First published November 3, 2015
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November 18, 2015Fascinating to read a cookbook and have no desire to dive into the kitchen. Don't get me wrong - this book is beautiful and provocative and surreal. However, it is wildly impractical and too fussy for ordinary mortals.
For example, here are the ingredients for Daikon & Sake Kasu Puree:
calcium gluconate
daikon
low acyl gellan
sodium hexmetaphosphate (SHMP)
sake kasu
fine sea salt
xanthan gum
I know where to buy daikon, I can probably find xanthan gum, I have salt in the cupboard, but I'd have to look up all of the other ingredients.
In short, it's an art book meant for the coffee table, not an addition to the kitchen library.
For example, here are the ingredients for Daikon & Sake Kasu Puree:
calcium gluconate
daikon
low acyl gellan
sodium hexmetaphosphate (SHMP)
sake kasu
fine sea salt
xanthan gum
I know where to buy daikon, I can probably find xanthan gum, I have salt in the cupboard, but I'd have to look up all of the other ingredients.
In short, it's an art book meant for the coffee table, not an addition to the kitchen library.
March 25, 2021
This was an Amazon Prime free read, which is about the only way I ever would have noticed it. I wouldn't have paid for it, and our library would never bring something like this into inventory.
So. Very. Pretentious. And beautifully photographed. And, in the end, kind of boring.
The photos were the draw for me, but they got fewer as the book progressed, and fewer of the pictures were of the dishes than of things like a stack of pots or someone's hands holding a dish. (And while it's not PC to say, closeups of hands sporting tatts handling food just spuicks me out. I know the ink has nothing to do with how clean the person's hands are, but it still looks nasty/unsanitary.)
It's mildly amusing to read the bits where Crenn manages to be more arrogant and pretentious than the people who pay her $500 a head (with wine) to eat at her restaurant. It's hard to out-arrogant the SF Bay Area "I live in Paradise and the other 49 states are beneath my contempt" conspicuous consumer, but she manages to do just that with her constant, "Oh, sure it's nice here, but back in France it was so much more...." Even that wears thin after a while.
Two other things that wear thin quickly:
The first is the constant reminders of how utterly precise everything must be. A quick comparison of the metric-to-imperial conversions in various recipes reveal a lot of discrepancies. If you weigh eight volume ounces of water, it should weigh the same every time as long as you're at the same elevation. Measure the first in San Francisco and the second on the top of Mount Everest or on the moon, that's different. But weighing it in good ol' San Francisco each time? It should be the same. A difference of 5 ml among recipes is no big deal. A difference of around 90 ml is kind of a big deal. Typo or just sloppy math? Who knows? Either way, not precise.
The second thing is that for someone who pontificates long and hard about local sourcing and how what's on the plate being "an act of economic and environmental responsibility," it's odd that Crenn would include a recipe (or serve at her restaurant) abalone. The California abalone ecology is so stressed that the state has halted all recreational harvesting until at least 2021. Illegal abalone harvesting is rampant and was a problem even back in the 1990s -- the divers are paid in drugs often enough that it's been covered by several major newspapers for decades. The last commercial abalone harvester closed some years ago due to the dwindling abalone population and resulting strict quotas. Most "marculture" attempts at farming abalone have had major problems either getting the abalone to "take" after spawning or with invasive bacteria, viruses or predators. Even the very few successful marculture efforts stretch the definition of "sustainability" beyond belief. Removing 20k-50K of seaweed from the local bays for your "farm" creates its own stressors to micro-environments. So just how "environmentally responsible" is it to brag about using or encouraging others to use a product that is so mired in all these problems? There were other things that seems less than "an act of economic and environmental responsibility," but that's the most glaring one to me.
Let's be honest: Eating at Atelier Crenn has little to do with enjoying a meal. At best, it's about a unique performance around tiny works of edible art. I suspect people primarily go there for bragging rights. They want to be seen somewhere exclusive and beyond the reach of the mainstream. Oh, our Instagram society! One must perform for the almighty social media!
And this book was never meant to be used as a cookbook. Not really. If the heft and white cover didn't clue you in -- yeah, you are not taking that pristine snow white cover into a kitchen that sees any serious cooking, so don't lie -- the recipes should make the point. 99.99% of people who look through this book simply are not going to take two or three days to attempt these recipes any more than they are going shopping for the lobster brains, Cremodan30, micro thyme tips, low acel galam, and an aquarium pump just to cook a meal. And the other .01% are only doing it for...you know it...Instagram bragging rights. Nah. It's a art book. It's meant to sit on the coffee table and be intimidatingly beautiful. Except it doesn't have quite enough gorgeous photos to do that either, so it mostly ends up just being self-absorbed and pretentious. Which means it should do quite well in the Bay area among the people whose self-esteem is dependent on being seen at a $500 "experience meal"
The exception to all of the above (maybe) is the last two chapters, labeled "Dream" and "Craft". The first contains recipes from the AC's pastry chef, and it imparts some interesting things about flavor combination and process. (And the lovely photos are back.) You'll still need to go on a kind of chemistry and culinary scavenger hunt to find some of the equipment and ingredients, and most likely you'll need to block off several days and take out a second mortgage; however, with luck and patience, some of the recipes seem possible to replicate by an experienced cook with a really well-equipped kitchen. The Craft chapter contains the most realistic and usable recipes: broths and stocks, breads, and a few cultured dairy items. All of the breads looked intriguing, although at this point I was so tired of the whole book that I didn't bother to try baking any of them. This section, however, is (again, maybe) where something useful could be learned.
Long story longer -- I read it out of curiosity and ended up bored by the attitude and not really learning anything. Since I rate cookbooks on whether I learn anything or will ever cook from them, I can't go more than two stars on this one. Those two stars are for the photography and that "Craft" chapter. No doubt they serve some very pretty plates at the restaurant, but this book did nothing to further my interest in the author, the restaurant, or modernist food.
So. Very. Pretentious. And beautifully photographed. And, in the end, kind of boring.
The photos were the draw for me, but they got fewer as the book progressed, and fewer of the pictures were of the dishes than of things like a stack of pots or someone's hands holding a dish. (And while it's not PC to say, closeups of hands sporting tatts handling food just spuicks me out. I know the ink has nothing to do with how clean the person's hands are, but it still looks nasty/unsanitary.)
It's mildly amusing to read the bits where Crenn manages to be more arrogant and pretentious than the people who pay her $500 a head (with wine) to eat at her restaurant. It's hard to out-arrogant the SF Bay Area "I live in Paradise and the other 49 states are beneath my contempt" conspicuous consumer, but she manages to do just that with her constant, "Oh, sure it's nice here, but back in France it was so much more...." Even that wears thin after a while.
Two other things that wear thin quickly:
The first is the constant reminders of how utterly precise everything must be. A quick comparison of the metric-to-imperial conversions in various recipes reveal a lot of discrepancies. If you weigh eight volume ounces of water, it should weigh the same every time as long as you're at the same elevation. Measure the first in San Francisco and the second on the top of Mount Everest or on the moon, that's different. But weighing it in good ol' San Francisco each time? It should be the same. A difference of 5 ml among recipes is no big deal. A difference of around 90 ml is kind of a big deal. Typo or just sloppy math? Who knows? Either way, not precise.
The second thing is that for someone who pontificates long and hard about local sourcing and how what's on the plate being "an act of economic and environmental responsibility," it's odd that Crenn would include a recipe (or serve at her restaurant) abalone. The California abalone ecology is so stressed that the state has halted all recreational harvesting until at least 2021. Illegal abalone harvesting is rampant and was a problem even back in the 1990s -- the divers are paid in drugs often enough that it's been covered by several major newspapers for decades. The last commercial abalone harvester closed some years ago due to the dwindling abalone population and resulting strict quotas. Most "marculture" attempts at farming abalone have had major problems either getting the abalone to "take" after spawning or with invasive bacteria, viruses or predators. Even the very few successful marculture efforts stretch the definition of "sustainability" beyond belief. Removing 20k-50K of seaweed from the local bays for your "farm" creates its own stressors to micro-environments. So just how "environmentally responsible" is it to brag about using or encouraging others to use a product that is so mired in all these problems? There were other things that seems less than "an act of economic and environmental responsibility," but that's the most glaring one to me.
Let's be honest: Eating at Atelier Crenn has little to do with enjoying a meal. At best, it's about a unique performance around tiny works of edible art. I suspect people primarily go there for bragging rights. They want to be seen somewhere exclusive and beyond the reach of the mainstream. Oh, our Instagram society! One must perform for the almighty social media!
And this book was never meant to be used as a cookbook. Not really. If the heft and white cover didn't clue you in -- yeah, you are not taking that pristine snow white cover into a kitchen that sees any serious cooking, so don't lie -- the recipes should make the point. 99.99% of people who look through this book simply are not going to take two or three days to attempt these recipes any more than they are going shopping for the lobster brains, Cremodan30, micro thyme tips, low acel galam, and an aquarium pump just to cook a meal. And the other .01% are only doing it for...you know it...Instagram bragging rights. Nah. It's a art book. It's meant to sit on the coffee table and be intimidatingly beautiful. Except it doesn't have quite enough gorgeous photos to do that either, so it mostly ends up just being self-absorbed and pretentious. Which means it should do quite well in the Bay area among the people whose self-esteem is dependent on being seen at a $500 "experience meal"
The exception to all of the above (maybe) is the last two chapters, labeled "Dream" and "Craft". The first contains recipes from the AC's pastry chef, and it imparts some interesting things about flavor combination and process. (And the lovely photos are back.) You'll still need to go on a kind of chemistry and culinary scavenger hunt to find some of the equipment and ingredients, and most likely you'll need to block off several days and take out a second mortgage; however, with luck and patience, some of the recipes seem possible to replicate by an experienced cook with a really well-equipped kitchen. The Craft chapter contains the most realistic and usable recipes: broths and stocks, breads, and a few cultured dairy items. All of the breads looked intriguing, although at this point I was so tired of the whole book that I didn't bother to try baking any of them. This section, however, is (again, maybe) where something useful could be learned.
Long story longer -- I read it out of curiosity and ended up bored by the attitude and not really learning anything. Since I rate cookbooks on whether I learn anything or will ever cook from them, I can't go more than two stars on this one. Those two stars are for the photography and that "Craft" chapter. No doubt they serve some very pretty plates at the restaurant, but this book did nothing to further my interest in the author, the restaurant, or modernist food.
September 23, 2016
DId you know most people who read cookbooks never actually prepare any of the recipes in their own kitchens? Cookbook readers enjoy the journey food takes them on ... the exploration of faraway lands and cultures. I, however do enjoy trying to master recipes in my own kitchen. I enjoyed being introduced to Chef Crenn's philosophies, but early on I knew I would never attempt to prepare any of the dishes in this book. -Way too complex. The next time I'm in San Francisco, I'll make reservations.
September 13, 2016
No question this book is illustrated gorgeously, with stunning photography. And, I can't fault that the recipes are beyond complicated, even for a professional chef, many of them requiring days of work, and multiple people just to put them together - after all, it's a recipe and story book of what Crenn offers at her restaurant.
What lets the book down for me is a lack of attention to measurements - primarily in the translations between metric and non-metric. A cup of water varies anywhere from 160 grams to almost 300. A cup of melted fat somehow only weighs in at 100 grams. Milliliters don't translate correctly to liquid ounces, varying by as much as 50% from one recipe to another, and milligrams to ounces of weight suffer the same.
It left me wondering that if there's so little attention to such simple conversions, which can be done on a basic calculator, or even plugging them in to a website that's setup for cooking conversions, of which there are many, how many other things in the book are simply tossed in without careful consideration?
What lets the book down for me is a lack of attention to measurements - primarily in the translations between metric and non-metric. A cup of water varies anywhere from 160 grams to almost 300. A cup of melted fat somehow only weighs in at 100 grams. Milliliters don't translate correctly to liquid ounces, varying by as much as 50% from one recipe to another, and milligrams to ounces of weight suffer the same.
It left me wondering that if there's so little attention to such simple conversions, which can be done on a basic calculator, or even plugging them in to a website that's setup for cooking conversions, of which there are many, how many other things in the book are simply tossed in without careful consideration?
September 8, 2016
Wonderful book. Early in the pages emphasis is put on the merits of continually learning as a cook to piece together and share dishes as an art form to be enjoyed. It is meant to be a form of leisure, hence the price tag of a seat at Atelier Crenn. Learning about particular techniques, ingredients from just one recipe can greatly help to inform even if it does not direct step by step everyday cooking. I personally love that aspect and flexibility to autonomously create my own dishes at home. Every cook has a different set of recipes to develop for ones own. In defense of criticism of the book, for everyday shopping, cooking and preparation, that, TBH is just something you learn to do through necessity and through the experience. This experience includes how hungry you are / your family is, how much time / money you have to cook and to obtain food. Additionally there are websites and tools like serious eats or cooks smarts to help with everyday food planning and cooking. So....yeah.
April 4, 2018
A bit surprised about the relatively low rating for this book, i do count goodreads rates as partial parameter for my cookbook purchases, glad i didn't overlook this one because of the grade :-)
Like this book very much, a lot of inspiration there, those books are not meant for exact replication, but for enjoyment of browsing, great photos and ideas grabbing, like small elements from each very complicated creation, taste combination, fabulous use of one of my favorite home appliances, the dehydrator.. It is for home experts i think, or patient cooks, i own quite a lot of great looking cookbooks from good people, this was one of my favorites in last year purchases..
Like this book very much, a lot of inspiration there, those books are not meant for exact replication, but for enjoyment of browsing, great photos and ideas grabbing, like small elements from each very complicated creation, taste combination, fabulous use of one of my favorite home appliances, the dehydrator.. It is for home experts i think, or patient cooks, i own quite a lot of great looking cookbooks from good people, this was one of my favorites in last year purchases..
August 30, 2019
I will definitely try the bread recipes in the back of the book! It was very interesting to read about her process in creating recipes, but I have to say, the pictures of the plated food didn't look very tasty. I am just not advanced enough as an eater to be tempted by them. The bread recipes sound stellar, however.
January 7, 2020
Beautiful but largely useless. If you want to read about how gorgeous food is prepared, this book might meet your needs but the unusual ingredients, tools and techniques make the book largely inaccessible for cooking.
August 10, 2023
Extremely fancy and unattainable
This book is full with super fancy items that are only available in super fancy restaurant. I have to honestly say that this is waaaay out of my league.
Don’t get me wrong, I believe that these dishes are superb and super tasty but to make it? I don’t think I have it in me to do that. Not yet.
And we need more pictures.
This book is full with super fancy items that are only available in super fancy restaurant. I have to honestly say that this is waaaay out of my league.
Don’t get me wrong, I believe that these dishes are superb and super tasty but to make it? I don’t think I have it in me to do that. Not yet.
And we need more pictures.
November 13, 2018
Spectacularly beautiful.
August 2, 2019
I can’t say anything else to ruin her creation. It’s really beautiful. The book is sophistication mastered and executed in simple beautiful elegance just like what is served at Atelier Crenn.
June 18, 2016
This is a gorgeous book from start to finish. Part cookbook, part autobiography, Dominique Crenn's Atelier Crenn: Metamorphosis of Taste is a feast for the eyes, with photography by Ed Anderson, and poetry for the soul (and here we must recognize also the work of Crenn's co-author Karen Leibowitz, whose Mission Street Food: Recipes and Ideas from an Improbable Restaurant (co-authored with her husband, chef Anthony Myint), is probably my favorite cookbook that I've ever "read.")
This is not a book of practical or convenient recipes. It is a book about art. One might classify Crenn's work as "molecular gastronomy" but that flattens the poetry of what Crenn achieves with her creations. Indeed, "poetry" isn't just a fancy overwrought description--Crenn actually offers a poem to accompany her Chef's Grand Tasting Menu at her restaurant, Atelier Crenn. She describes the meal (and the poem changes seasonally with the menu) with lines such as: "Here, the earth proffers its juicy, vermilion gifts/and above the half moon floats, silky and smoky/In summer's green dappled light/the forest radiant with possibility." Having food communicate on the deeper level where poetry can also touch us is what Crenn calls "poetic culinaria."
While the average kitchen may not be fully equipped to prepare the recipes in the book, they will serve as a fount of inspiration for flavor combinations, textures, and plating. Behind her dishes, there is a respect for sustainability and nature, as well. She's a fully committed omnivore, but offers, "We must eat less meat, we must eat it more thoughtfully, and we must make it so delicious that our cooking becomes a way of showing respect for the animal that has given up its life for us." This last part echoes the thread that runs through the book--that of cooking as ritual. The compelling description of a day in the life of Atelier Crenn seems almost monastic--the cooks arrive beginning at 9:00 am and follow a liturgy of preparation, cleaning, and sharing a meal together.
The photography alone might make this a "coffee table" book, but it is well worth spending some time with the prose. Crenn and Leibowitz offer us an understanding of symbiosis between food and art. And maybe, just as the amateur painter might be inspired by a visit to the Louvre, a home chef who reads this book might venture into dehydrating quinoa, bringing different cultural flavors together, or simply arranging food on a plate that honors both its origins and its possibilities.
This is not a book of practical or convenient recipes. It is a book about art. One might classify Crenn's work as "molecular gastronomy" but that flattens the poetry of what Crenn achieves with her creations. Indeed, "poetry" isn't just a fancy overwrought description--Crenn actually offers a poem to accompany her Chef's Grand Tasting Menu at her restaurant, Atelier Crenn. She describes the meal (and the poem changes seasonally with the menu) with lines such as: "Here, the earth proffers its juicy, vermilion gifts/and above the half moon floats, silky and smoky/In summer's green dappled light/the forest radiant with possibility." Having food communicate on the deeper level where poetry can also touch us is what Crenn calls "poetic culinaria."
While the average kitchen may not be fully equipped to prepare the recipes in the book, they will serve as a fount of inspiration for flavor combinations, textures, and plating. Behind her dishes, there is a respect for sustainability and nature, as well. She's a fully committed omnivore, but offers, "We must eat less meat, we must eat it more thoughtfully, and we must make it so delicious that our cooking becomes a way of showing respect for the animal that has given up its life for us." This last part echoes the thread that runs through the book--that of cooking as ritual. The compelling description of a day in the life of Atelier Crenn seems almost monastic--the cooks arrive beginning at 9:00 am and follow a liturgy of preparation, cleaning, and sharing a meal together.
The photography alone might make this a "coffee table" book, but it is well worth spending some time with the prose. Crenn and Leibowitz offer us an understanding of symbiosis between food and art. And maybe, just as the amateur painter might be inspired by a visit to the Louvre, a home chef who reads this book might venture into dehydrating quinoa, bringing different cultural flavors together, or simply arranging food on a plate that honors both its origins and its possibilities.
August 13, 2018
I decided to read this book last month because I was hoping for some inspiration on how to learn plating techniques. Which I got and so much more!
This is a beautiful book, the pictures are absolutely stunning and so each page is like a work of art. I really enjoyed Metamorphosis of Taste, from beginning to end. Though it's not a practical cookbook by far, in either the skill required to cook the recipes, nor in the types of ingredients needed, I found that it was very helpful for me. I loved that there were recipes of food I knew of and of food I'd never heard of. I loved that each recipe was a twist on an old recipe. And I really appreciated it that Crenn included how to plate each and everyone one of them.
In the end there weren't any of the recipes that I could attempt by myself, but I found the book to be inspiring and that was what I had been hoping for. I gave this book 4 stars on Goodreads.
This is a beautiful book, the pictures are absolutely stunning and so each page is like a work of art. I really enjoyed Metamorphosis of Taste, from beginning to end. Though it's not a practical cookbook by far, in either the skill required to cook the recipes, nor in the types of ingredients needed, I found that it was very helpful for me. I loved that there were recipes of food I knew of and of food I'd never heard of. I loved that each recipe was a twist on an old recipe. And I really appreciated it that Crenn included how to plate each and everyone one of them.
In the end there weren't any of the recipes that I could attempt by myself, but I found the book to be inspiring and that was what I had been hoping for. I gave this book 4 stars on Goodreads.
February 22, 2016
I didn't read the text of this book about French cooking, but I glanced at many of the recipes and noted where they are if I decide to try one of them some day.
April 6, 2016
boring
April 29, 2016
Totally gorgeous. I was especially drawn to the color and textures palettes and would like to design some dresses around them!
October 29, 2021
Beautiful, but nothing sparked a flame for me to make it or even bookmark it to make in the future. Enjoyed the parts about how the kitchen works day to day
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