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In theory, it is not a great leap from the North American chili-tortilla parlor to the true provincial cuisine of Mexico. In fact, it would take years for the most diligent gringo to understand or annotate this peasant-rooted cuisine of peppers and cornmeal, arroz, barbacoa and relleno. Diana Kennedy, English by birth and Mexicana by persuasion, invested a large part of her life tasting and testing south of the border to produce The Cuisines of Mexico in 1972. She spent five more years researching the 1978 followup, Recipes from the Regional Cooks of Mexico (Harper & Row; 288 pages; $12.95). The result, for novice or aficionado, is a masterwork that sweeps the terrain from Chihuahua to Yucatán, from shrimps in pumpkinseed sauce to sugar-glazed flaky pastries. One could quite happily live on Diana's sopa de ajo y migas, which inadequately translates as garlic and bread-crumb soup.
It is 8,925 miles from Durango to Hunan, but the Mexicans and Chinese who inhabit those provinces could easily establish a kitchen detente. What they have in uncommon is a passion for pepper—not the condiment but the vegetable, red and red-hot. The spiciest variety in Hunan is a fingertip-size bomb called "To-the-Sky," because it grows facing upward. The explosive has not gone off in America; there are only a dozen restaurants devoted to authentic Hunanese cuisine in the entire U.S. The first was founded by Henry Chung in San Francisco five years ago, and almost immediately won national acclaim. In his Hunan Style Chinese Cookbook (Harmony Books; 145 pages; $10), Chung relates charming anecdotes from his native Li-ling county and introduces many worthy dishes, notably hot and sour chicken, fried asparagus in hot black bean sauce and, for breakfast, steamed thin-sliced pork with fermented black beans. Ni hao, Mr. Chung.
And bienvenue, Julia Child! America's most generous and persuasive evangelist-explicator of great food is back in print with a compendium of recipes, reflections and recommendations. Julia Child & Company (Knopf; 243 pages; $8.95 paperback) is not so much a collection of recipes, of which there are a Julian abundance, as a matter of celebrations and consummations. There is a Dinner for the Boss that runs through consommé brunoise, standing rib roast and macédoine of fruits in champagne with bourbon-soaked chocolate truffles. Anyone who serves anyone such a repast must have a very good boss or richly deserve a raise. Julia also has suggestions for such events as a birthday dinner ("roast duck and a big gooey cake"), a Sunday night supper, a chafing-dish dinner and a buffet for 19, with good ideas about the wines avec. The book goes on to breads and breakfasts, capons and caramel, sherbets and shellfish. Julia, please stop.