Ratio: The Simple Codes Behind the Craft of Everyday Cooking

by Michael Ruhlman

Michael Ruhlman’s groundbreaking New York Times bestseller takes us to the very “truth” of cooking: it is not about recipes but rather about basic ratios and fundamental techniques that makes all food come together, simply.

When you know a culinary ratio, it’s not like knowing a single recipe, it’s instantly knowing a thousand.

Why spend time sorting through the millions of cookie recipes available in books, magazines, and on the Internet? Isn’t it easier just to remember 1-2-3? That’s the ratio of ingredients that always make a basic, delicious cookie dough: 1 part sugar, 2 parts fat, and 3 parts flour. From there, add anything you want—chocolate, lemon and orange zest, nuts, poppy seeds, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg, almond extract, or peanut butter, to name a few favorite additions. Replace white sugar with brown for a darker, chewier cookie. Add baking powder and/or eggs for a lighter, airier texture.

Ratios are the starting point from which a thousand variations begin.

Ratios are the simple proportions of one ingredient to another. Biscuit dough is 3:1:2—or 3 parts flour, 1 part fat, and 2 parts liquid. This ratio is the beginning of many variations, and because the biscuit takes sweet and savory flavors with equal grace, you can top it with whipped cream and strawberries or sausage gravy. Vinaigrette is 3:1, or 3 parts oil to 1 part vinegar, and is one of the most useful sauces imaginable, giving everything from grilled meats and fish to steamed vegetables or lettuces intense flavor.

Cooking with ratios will unchain you from recipes and set you free. With thirty-three ratios and suggestions for enticing variations, Ratio is the truth of cooking: basic preparations that teach us how the fundamental ingredients of the kitchen—water, flour, butter and oils, milk and cream, and eggs—work. Change the ratio and bread dough becomes pasta dough, cakes become muffins become popovers become crepes.

As the culinary world fills up with overly complicated recipes and never-ending ingredient lists, Michael Ruhlman blasts through the surplus of information and delivers this innovative, straightforward book that cuts to the core of cooking. Ratio provides one of the greatest kitchen lessons there is—and it makes the cooking easier and more satisfying than ever.

Genres: Cookbooks, Cooking, Food, Nonfiction, Reference, Culinary, Science

272 pages, Hardcover

First published March 5, 2009

About the author

Michael Ruhlman (born 1963 in Cleveland, Ohio) is an American writer. He is the author of 11 books, and is best known for his work about and in collaboration with American chefs, as well as other works of non-fiction.

Ruhlman grew up in Cleveland and was educated at University School (a private boys' day school in Cleveland) and at Duke University, graduating from the latter in 1985. He worked a series of odd jobs (including briefly at the New York Times) and traveled before returning to his hometown in 1991 to work for a local magazine.

While working at the magazine, Ruhlman wrote an article about his old high school and its new headmaster, which he expanded into his first book, Boys Themselves: A Return to Single-Sex Education (1996).

For his second book, The Making of a Chef (1997), Ruhlman enrolled in the Culinary Institute of America, completing the course, to produce a first-person account -- of the techniques, personalities, and mindsets -- of culinary education at the prestigious chef's school. The success of this book produced two follow-ups, The Soul of a Chef (2000) and The Reach of a Chef (2006).

Reviews

[Eileen · Rating 2 out of 5]

Michael Ruhlman has much valuable information to communicate; the ratio concept is clearly crucial if one wants to fully understand and experiment with baking in particular. However, he is not a very skilled prose stylist. The book is too busy; it continually throws out disorganized and poorly focused extra information. The intention seems to have been to stay nonthreatening by adopting a casual, spontaneous, and personal tone. However, when combined with the more mathematical aspects of the ratio system, this backfires, creating a muddled manuscript apparently written by "an actual scientician!"

A decent editor could have tightened and reorganized this prose to make a substantially clearer book. It's too bad Ruhlman didn't have one.

Observe:

"Ratios is one of the greatest cooking lessons there is." (p. xxiv)
"Meaning there's no fat in it." (p.9)

Are you serious? Basic grammatical mistakes like these just make you look like a moron.

"One of the best pies there is, and an easy one and an economical one, is the chicken pot pie (or beef, fish, or vegetable)." (p. 29)

Look how much is going on in this astoundingly poorly constructed sentence. Instant rewrite: "One of the best, easiest, and most economical pies is the pot pie." That isn't even a very compelling sentence after its rewrite!

"Which is why I love cooking. It's all one thing. Which is the ultimate comfort in a life fraught with uncertainty and questions. Which is why I don't fear dying. Which is what I'd put on my headstone if I thought being buried in the ground mattered: 'It's all one thing.' Which is why I love batters." (p.57)

I practically can't even read this. Everything in the entire ungrammatical passage is bizarre, confusing, and self-indulgent.

In short, although the information is good, problems like these make the book almost intolerable to a person with any ear for language.

[Hirondelle (not getting notifications) · Rating 2 out of 5]

I loved the cover. Totally loved it. Make it a poster and I will buy it and stick it on my kitchen ( *hinthintnudgenudge*). And it is a great idea for a book, they had me at the blurb. And some of the recipe variation ideas given are good and interesting.

But that is basically all I liked. I have many many opinions about this book, this is going to take me a while, and sadly, I found a lot here to dislike:

- The writing is clumsy. I had to reread paragraphs and sentences to figure out the meaning. He takes too long or is confusing as for example regarding the weight/volume issue.

- Namedropping : there is a lot of namedropping, almost all totally meaningless to me except that it is maddening, I don't need to be told you learnt how to make something with XY at restaurant Z, what is the point of mentioning it? If personal, say something about why it is meaningful enough to name it, if it is to establish credentials, am I supposed to care? Because I don't, except to be annoyed.

- Not scientific: I don't care if author disagrees based on one experiment on not-lab conditions with the ratio for mayonnaise emulsion that McGee gives and for which I bet McGee has references on lab conditions.

- The editorial choices of what to include ratios for are not interesting to me. I need to scream, but I can not believe this is not mentioned : he says nothing about proper ratios for COOKING RICE! Rice, the one thing for which almost everybody uses ratios, a common staple food for maybe half the world population. We get ratios for stuff hardly nobody ever makes from scratch like sausages, for mousseline paste, for choux paste, etc. But not for basic stuff which actually a lot of people want to cook like rice, water-based soup and tea and (personal quirk) scones.

- The cooking mentioned is very french-american (with slight detours to italian-american) restaurant cooking. I can not relate. You don't need stock to make soup, lots of cultures make soup using water. Making vegetable broth, throwing away the vegetables, refrigerating the broth and then using it for soup or risotto or whatever seems a bit stupid to me. It might work for restaurant cooking, but I do not want to cook like a restaurant chef. I don't have space, equipment or the inclination. There is a lack of globalism in the food he talks about: asian shrimp ravioli is not originally made with shrimp mousseline! Same to a lot of more "world cuisine" recipes given, which seem very very fake.

- The units drive me crazy. He discusses digital scales (awesome. I can not cook without them) but then ignores most of the potential when giving examples. No, he goes to ounces and cups and teaspoons and tablespoons. I would have loved a more basic easily scaleable examples with DUAL UNITS; metric and american-units (Whatever those are called, I am not interested). Plus, if you have digital scales, we do not need to ignore the small volume elements, like salt or whatever or measure it in stupid tablespoons or double teaspoons. He includes a complete example for bread ratios which seemed much more useful to me than his simplified one!

- This is not a rigorous book and the author assumes authority where I would have preferred he wouldn't. As mentioned above regarding units used, regarding authenticity of recipes. And regarding ratios he gives. He tested it out and is adjusting the ratios as he sees fit. His inspiration, the director of the Culinary institute, compared cookbooks and compiled a list. He seems to have taken that list and adapted it as he saw fit and according to his tastes. He admits a certain ratio he gives for basic cake could work and also be "canonical" with much less or no butter, but hey he likes butter and it makes for a punchier ratio. I find it hard to take this sort of attitude as being a thoughtful authority.

- Purely personal but a few of the ratios mentioned, particularly salt to meat seem extremely unhealthy. It is one thing to season sausages which need to be preserved for a long time and which will be used sparingly but extrapolate that salt ratio is a good one to use for everyday seasoning of hamburgers is worrying. Thinking of it, it was a very scary ratio. A lot of his cooking examples are also scarily unhealthy to consider for everyday food. Maybe it was naïve of me but I want to be a better cook for all food I cook, but his examples of food are often too rich, salty, or just messy and complicated to became staple recipes.

- Another personal quirk, on the introduction the author narrates a visit to Uwe Hestnar, who originally compiled a list of ratios by comparing cookbooks. I would really have loved to have seen that original list, wish it had been included. And Mr Hestnar is quoted as saying that restaurant food is too complicated, complaining dishes with too many ingredients and that cauliflower with cheese sauce is the true measure of a cook. And IMO, he has a point! I was looking for the recipe for the cauliflower in cheese sauce in the bechamel section, but nothing. Some of the examples mentioned by the author seem precisely the type of too complicated and verging on ridiculous cooking Mr Hestnar was complaining about, and the author shows no awareness of that. I found this type of inconsistency frustrating, he thinks this visit and the opinions by this chef are important enough to tell the reader about those, but it does not seem to influence the book's philosophy at all - and I wish it had! Crepes filled with lobster bits along with something or other in a bed of carrot sauce, give me a break, I would much rather hear about how to cook RICE better.

Rant off, I needed to exorcise my annoyance with this book. I expected too much probably.

[David Crumm · Rating 5 out of 5]

Learning to Cook Like Our Matriarchs

I will never forget the wonders of my Aunt Helen's popovers—and the first time I saw her produce those as a little boy visiting her farmhouse in Howe, Indiana. She cranked her oven up to a high temperature and warned me not to even touch the outer surface of it. Then, she set a large, glass mixing bowl on her counter and began adding milk, eggs, a cup of flour and a dash of salt. Then, she whipped the mixture with an old-fashioned, hand-cranked mixer. She set the bowl aside, brought out what looked to me like a large cast-iron muffin pan, tucked that into the fiercely hot oven. Eventually, she pulled on thick gingham oven mitts, so she could open the oven door and let some butter sizzle in that now piping-hot cast-iron pan. Finally, she poured equal parts of her mixture into the pan's six cups.

When she opened that oven door a half an hour later, a whoosh of the most wonderful bread-baking aroma wafted into the room and I could see those popovers were enormous! They had exploded over the tops of those iron muffin cups into columns of crispy-crusty goodness.

From my perspective, this was close to magic.

"How did you make them blow up like that?" I asked her.

"It's all in knowing the right measurements," she said, "and not forgetting any of the four ingredients."

I was hooked. In my 60s now, I have my own cast-iron popover pan and my popovers are perfect miracles every time!

Yet, I've never had a recipe card. I simply remembered Aunt Helen's "right measurements" of the "four ingredients."

If that sounds tempting to you, then this marvelous book will be a revelation—a way to learn cooking, making sauces and breads and pasta, etc.—the way my Aunt Helen once taught her specialities to curious young people like me.

I have to thank my son in law for loaning me this book to read. And, now, I think I'm going to purchase my own copy of Ruhlman's book because I don't think I can recall so easily all the ratios, tips and tricks he shares in this volume. I want my own copy of the book as a reminder.

Ruhlman is in his 60s now himself. He has collaborated on creating cookbooks with some of the all-time great chefs, including Thomas Keller, Eric Ripert and Michael Symon. And he intends this book as a game-changing approach to stepping into one's kitchen. Rather than feeling we are forever tethered to the precise instructions of recipes we may see in magazines, websites or on the side of a box at the grocery store—Ruhlman wants us to understand the ratios—my aunt called them the "right measurements"—that define such specialities as popovers.

He's also got some valuable advice for making dozens of other common favorites, including a wonderfully crispy tempura batter.

Buy a copy for yourself or give one to a friend to the holidays. You'll enjoy the results!

[Grace · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book changed the way I approach cooking. And really, that's what it's meant to do. Before this book found its way onto my kitchen counter, I was completely recipe-bound. I could throw a few things together for a decent meal, but nothing too fancy. Most of the time, I would have to search for a recipe to accomplish it. Well, this book will break you of that. As it explains, it all comes down to ratios. As long as you can master those, the whole kitchen will open up to you. Before too long you will be making artisan breads by throwing in whatever sounds good at the moment, or baking a cake with no notice, or my favorite--creating mayonnaise from scratch. Yum!

So just one word of caution--this is not meant to be a cookbook. There are some recipes in there, but what this book does is teach you the underlying ratios comprising of most basic recipes. It is up to you to expand upon them and add in the different flavors that you like. And to me, that's what makes this book so amazing. It gave me the freedom to be experimental, and to be pretty successful at it.

[Andrea James · Rating 3 out of 5]

I bought this book years ago because I loved the concept (and Alton Brown is quoted on the back so how bad can it be?) . But then the book somehow disappeared into the depths of my bookshelves so I was excited when I finally found it a couple of days ago!

Then in dawned on me why it wasn't as treasured as one might expect it to be. It so disappointing in its execution. This book could have been so much more...it felt unnecessarily rushed and poorly edited*.

I want to rate this book 5 stars because I think observations of patterns, trends, connections and principles are brilliant in helping us understand the building blocks of a subject. And once we have that, we can form our own heuristics and then have the freedom to play, create, tweak, explore, learn and most importantly develop an intuition for what works.

The author teases us with lots of great points that so many of the popular cookbooks fail to convey. I just wished the author and his editing team took a little more care in how the information was presented. The graphic on the cover is pretty and so they clearly weren't afraid of using visuals so why not have some simple tables and diagrams throughout the book to make the trends and connections even clearer?

Nevertheless, it offers much more of an understanding about the principles of cooking than the standard recipe book (and others that purport to be "how to" cookbooks). Which in itself is a marvellous thing.

*I should perhaps clarify my criticism (because it's too easy to armchair criticise other people's work meaninglessly). If this had been a poor, first time author working on his own, slaving away at putting the book whilst working a full-time job, I think it's an important contribution. I'm disappointed because the author is famous, has access to amazing resources and most likely did not write this on his own. That's what I mean by "it could have been so much more".

[Anna Wanderer · Rating 2 out of 5]

I just started this and I am torn.

On one hand I like the idea of a set of guidelines I can keep in my head and use to cook nearly anything by starting with a few basic ingredients and then adding a few others. And I also like the math of cooking very much.

But another thing I enjoy about cooking is that it's a kind of communication between the person who wrote the recipe and me. They are telling me how to make something they liked or worked hard at or found interesting and when I make changes to their recipe or write down a recipe for someone else I am doing the same. The recipes can become a collaboration and ongoing experiment. The ratios method takes away some of that and also puts the pressure on the cook to keep all the possible variations on a basic ratio in his or her head (or I suppose you could write down all the successful ones but then you're back to the separate written recipes again).

I can see how the ratios would be hugely helpful to a professional chef or culinary school student for creating variations on a theme and easily multiplying or dividing quantities.

[Carol Bakker · Rating 5 out of 5]

When first I glanced at this book and saw all the numbers (which is what ratios are, right?), I put it down with, I regret to say, a dismissive attitude. Two months later I picked it up and started reading. Wait, what?!? My excitement erupted like a perfect popover.

This is a book that teaches you the theory of cooking with many practical suggestions. Theory isn't very sexy, but whether you are studying jazz, gymnastics, or engineering, it is essential.

This book is a geeky variation of the science of cooking found in Cook's Illustrated recipes and the techniques described in Pam Anderson's How to Cook without a Book. My mind was blown when Ruhlman explained the continuum from batter to dough, from the same ingredients, just different ratios. Crepe → popover → pancake → fritter → muffin → cake → (← all batters, now → crossing over into doughs) pâte à choux → pasta → pie → cookie → bread.

I chortled when Ruhlman rescues the reader from culinary disaster. Sauces can break, which means the formerly blended ingredients separate.

Do not be afraid of its [Hollandaise] breaking. Sauces can sense fear and will use it to their mischievous advantage. I have broken many sauces and am still a happy productive member of society and an advocate of the emulsified butter sauces. When this happens, all you have to do is fix it. First, admit defeat, accept that this will tack on 5 or 10 minutes of cooking (infinitely worth it), and request a best-0f-three rematch. I have never lost a best-of-three. Ever.

[Liz De Coster · Rating 2 out of 5]

I was a bit disappointed in this book. I was anticipating a basic how-to of creating your own recipes based on the titular ratios, which was only loosely the focus of the book. While reading it, I felt that there were so many caveats and addendums to each ratio that it would be difficult to memorize and utilize the ratios in a home kitchen. The author was probably going for flexibility, but lost some authority in the process. I didn't get much from this book, either recipes or knowledge, that I hadn't already gotten from other authors, such as Alton Brown, Harold McGee or Shirley Corriher, and I think Sally Schneider's The Improvisational Cook does a better job illustrating variations on a recipe theme than this book does. If, however, you haven't read any of these authors, Ruhlman is a fine (if visually bland) place to start.

[Benj · Rating 4 out of 5]

I liked this a lot! I'm only interested in cooking certain types of soups and breads, so half the book wasn't useful to me, but I LOVE this approach to cooking.

[Elizabeth · Rating 4 out of 5]

What a great idea for a cookbook! Because, of course, Ruhlman is right. What is the point of burying yourself in a book and following its instructions to the letter? Where's the fun in that? Not to mention that it's completely uncreative. Do we really want to be producing exactly the same thing, every time, no matter where the dish is being made? We might as well just program a machine to make our food. Personalization and variation is the key.

   [I]t's important to remember, as my first culinary instructor notes, "how well ratios work is directly proportionate to the ratio of common sense applied to them." [...]
   With the advent of the Internet, we have access to an ocean of recipe but relatively less information on food and cooking. Understanding ratios and technique is, of the home cook, a step toward becoming more independent in the kitchen. [...] Technique will ultimately determine the quality of the end result. Ratios are the points from which infinite variations begin.
   This book is about the culinary fundamentals, without which, as Escoffier said, nothing of importance can be accomplished. Nothing. But because it's about the fundamentals, it's also about all the things you can do with those fundamentals, about variation and improvisation. While it's filled with recipes, I like to think of it as an anti-recipe book, a book that teaches you and frees you from the need to follow.
-Michael Ruhlman, Ratio: The Simple Codes Behind the Craft of Everyday Cooking, What is a Ratio and Why is it Important, p.xiii, xv; Using This Book, p. xix

I really love that Ruhlman stresses the importance of measuring by weight rather than by volume. But where, oh where, is the handy chart showing how many grams are in an ounce? This is my biggest argument with Ruhlman: his insistence about using ounces instead of grams and how he mixes weight measurements with volume ones. I especially dislike seeing liquids in ounce measurements. There is always a tendency (on my part, anyway) to think it's fluid ounces, particularly when the next measurement is in teaspoons.

Actually, this is not my biggest argument. While I love his idea of releasing people from using recipes by reducing everything into ratios, I really question his bread ratio of 5:3 that completely ignores the yeast and salt. While the yeast and salt measures are very small, too much yeast will add unwanted yeast flavours. And too much salt can destroy bread. (Too little can be a problem too.)

I wish that he had suggested memorizing three numbers for bread: 60:3:2 with the knowledge that the flour is always 100 (using the same bakers' percentage that Ruhlman did). And because I'm such an expert and prefer slack dough, I'd change the number to 70:1:2 (water dry-yeast salt).

And then there is his recommendation to be casual about the water temperature when mixing bread dough.

   Active dry yeast is yeast that's been dried and given an inactive coating; this yeast must be dissolved in water before being mixed with the flour. Most companies recommend doing this in water that's about 110°F. But this seems to be for insurance rather than a strict requirement. I add mine to cold water and it's always worked fine. -Bread Dough, p.6

Having gone through over ten years of casual measuring (ie: not measuring at all except to note that it's not too hot) of water temperature while bread making, and suddenly (after reading Ken Forkish's book "Flour Water Yeast Salt") being adamant about using body temperature - or a fraction higher - water, our bread has improved dramatically.

However, other aspects of Ruhlman's book are invaluable. I've played a little with baking bread in a pyrex casserole dish. But all my baskets are too large for our casserole dishes. So how cool is it that Ruhlman notes that he has successfully baked his bread in an UNpreheated Dutch oven?

   [B]aking the bread in a Dutch oven! What a simple and ingenious idea! That , to me, should amount to a small revolution in home bread baking. It eliminates the need for a baking stone and all the shenanigans of getting steam into a home oven. In the confined area of the Dutch oven, the moisture released by the bread has the same effect as professional deck ovens with steam injection. I'm sure it would work in a large pot with a lid, but enameled cast iron holds heat very well, so the Dutch oven is the preferred vessel.
   [...] [T]he dough can be proofed outside the pot or int he pot. If you want to proof the dough outside the pot, I recommend preheating the Dutch oven. But I prefer proofing the boule in the Dutch oven (to avoid having the bread stick, be sure to oil the bottom of the pan first, something you do not need to do if baking in a preheated Dutch oven). I prefer this method because you don't disturb the structure you've created in the final rise and it results in bread with a light, airy crumb.
   Preheat your oven to 450°F. When the dough has risen, add a coating of olive oil and some coarse salt, score it with an X, cover the pan and pop it in the oven. Bake it for ½ hour, then remove the lid and continue baking until done (and internal temperature of 200°F to 210°F), and other 15 to 30 minutes. - Bread Dough, p.14

Another thing lacking is that there is not ONE chart showing gram/ounce equivalents. There isn't even a handy formula for calculating it. All of the weight measurements are in ounces rather than grams except, inexplicably, in the chapter about Hollandaise sauce.

Aside from that, Ruhlman's book is wonderfully refreshing.

And speaking of Hollandaise Sauce, I almost stood up to clap and cheer when I read the following:

   I believe it's a cook's moral obligation to add more butter given the chance. [...] Sauces can sense fear and will use it to their mischievous advantage. I have broken many sauces and am still a happy, productive member of society and an advocate of the emulsified butter sauces. If you make them, you can and will break them. When this happens, all you have to do is fix it. First, admit defeat, accept that this will tack on 5 or 10 minutes of cooking (infinitely worth it), and request a best-of-three rematch. I have never lost a best-of-three. Ever.
   Simply get another yolk and a couple of teaspoons of water, warm them a little, and start adding your broken sauce the way you added the butter. You'll have your sauce back in no time. And it's even more satisfying to have been brazenly challenged by your sauce and to have been undaunted.
   [...] In [my mother's] determination to get as much butter as possible into her [Sauce Béarnaise], she raised sauce making to the level of a sporting event. -Hollandaise, p.185,187,188,190

As I continued to read through the book, the omission of temperature became glaringly apparent. After all his talk about the importance of technique, these very important elements of technique are missing. He neglects to say exactly how to reheat foods that are to be "serve[d] immediately or chill[ed] until you're ready to serve".

The missing temperature was especially noticeable in the pancake and crepe chapter. I know from experience that if the pan is too hot or too cold, pancakes will fail miserably. And yet, he simply says "Cook on a lightly oiled surface, griddle or pan, over medium heat until done." leaving out the really important steps of flicking cold water at the pan to ensure that it beads, and to allow the pancake to bubble gently with the bubbles popping until the whole surface is covered in bubbles before flipping the pancake.

The importance of temperature was also omitted in the caramel/butterscotch/toffee chapter. There are cautionary notes to make sure the sugar doesn't burn but there is zero mention in the toffee section of heating it until it is a specific temperature. The instructions are simply to "cook, stirring, until the sugar has melted and the mixture has taken on an appealing toffeelike color".

And yet, when he talks about making stock, he is very specific about the temperature:

   [A]lways start your bones in cold water. In most cases, stocks should not boil, they shouldn't even simmer - 180°F is optimal -Stocks, p.92

In spite of these omissions, the book is filled with wonderful statements and revelations.

   [I]f there's one preparation that separates a great home cook's food from a good home cook's food, it's stock. [...] [I]t's not just that everything tastes better when you use fresh stock as opposed to factory-made broths, it's hard to make anything that's not delicious when you have good stock on hand. [...] Using canned broths to make soup is almost like serving really good food with bad-tasting silverware. [...] Stock isn't hard to make, it's just an additional step or cooking process. -Stocks, p.90, 101, 103

   Both types [of sponge and angelfood cakes] are very easy to prepare and should be part of your reprtoire rather than your relying on the dry, chemically flavored boxed mixes. - Pound Cake and Sponge Cake, p.59

   Chocolate sauce, also known as ganache, is made with equal parts chocolate and cream and is so easy, it almost doesn't count as a technique. Simply pour hot cream over an equal weight of chocolate. Let the chocolate melt for a few minutes, then whisk the cream until all the chocolate is incorporated. The mixture looks at first like a badly broken sauce, but the chocolate easily blends with the cream into a gorgeous, glossy, voluptuous sauce. [...] This is perhaps the simplest dessert sauce imaginable, so much so that it's a wonder that bottled chocolate sauce even exists. -Chocolate Sauce and Caramel Sauce, p.219, 221

Other favourite quotes:

   One of my favorite ratios is 3-2-1 Pie Dough. I like it because I'm not a pastry cook, but for this pastry procedure, I don't have to open a book - I know the recipe, 3-2-1: 3 parts flour, 2 parts fat, 1 part water [...] CIA instructor Bob del Grosso loves the 1-2-3 cookie dough because, he says, swith no seasoning, 1 part sugar, 2 parts fat, followed by 3 parts flour will produce a basic short cookie. "It won't be art," he says, "but it will be good." Add vanilla or chocolate, lemon and poppyseeds, choose a very flavorful butter - that's the art. -Introduction: The Truth of Cooking, p.xxiv

   A roux is cooked when it begins to smell like a lightly cooked piecrust and is still pale, but it can be taken further, growing darker and more nutty in aroma. Two issues to be aware of regarding the color of roux are that if the roux cooks too much or too quickly, it can burn and become bitter, and that the more it's cooked, the less thickening power it will have. A roux cooked until it's nutty and brown has about half the thickening power of a pale roux. -Roux, p.113

   Beurre manié, or kneaded butter, is butter into which an equal volume of flour has been rubbed and kneaded, becoming an easy, effective way to thicken small amounts of sauces while also enriching them. Slurries, pure starch and water, may be quicker and more widely used , but they don't enrich or add flavor - butter does. [...] Slurries are excellent for last-minute thickening, especially of sauces. The thickening will break down after repeated or extended cooking so it's best to lié your sauce just before serving. -Beurre manié and Slurry, p.121

   Commercial sausages that are both delicious and lean typically have some kind of chemical shenanigans going on in them to compensate for the lack of fat. Stick to natural foods, and you can eat fat and salt in comfortable proportions. That is not to say that you can't use healthy techniques in your own sausages to reduce fat somewhat without compromising succulence. Vegetables and fruits can add moisture and flavor to sausages - roasted red peppers, onions, mushrooms, tomatoes, and apples make great additions to a sausage. [...] But in the end, it's a fact we must embrace: the excellence in a sausage begins with the proper ratio of meat to fat. - The Noble Sausage, p.132

   My impulse to write books originates in the urge to find out what I don't know. [...] The most important thing I've learned in exploring ratios is the interconnectedness of all our preparations. [...] Understanding a pasta dough helps you to understand a bread dough and a cookie dough and a pie dough better by recognizing what the variation, whether egg, water, or fat, do to the flour.
    The second most important thing I've learned is how much cooking technique matters. I make better pie dough than my photographer wife, even though we use the same ratio, becuase I've made more of them and so my fingers know how to knead the dough, just so much, just until it comes together, to achieve a flaky piecrust. "You didn't always make great pie doughs, just remember that," Donna said, miffed - Epilogue, p.227,228

Aha! THAT sounds familiar! I used to proudly say that I make the best pastry in the world. I now am forced to admit that after showing my husband how to make pastry, I make the second best pastry in the world.

Ah, technique and practice... It reminds me of the joke: "How do you get to Carnegie Hall?"

"Practice"

Now, excuse me while I go and practice by making brownies....

[Grace · Rating 3 out of 5]

Interesting concept, and there's some helpful information in here about approaching cooking and baking, but ultimately I thought this fell a little short of its potential. I think for me, it was a little busy and not quite as seamless as I'd want in terms of flow, and I found the constant switching from info on ratios to a bunch of recipes a little chaotic. I also found myself constantly questioning the author's expertise to be speaking with such authority. Cool concept, meh execution--frankly, I think just the poster that served as inspiration for this could have done the job.

[Helen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Being a public librarian with access to an unending supply of books, it takes something really special to make me want to part with $27.00 just so I can call it my own. Ruhlman has found the secret code in Ratio and my copy should be in my mailbox by tomorrow.

It a weird format for a cookbook in that Ruhlman buries his recipes in parts or chapters that explain the basic ratios for, for instance, doughs and batters. By explaining the how and why of the most basic dough, Ruhlman opens up doors for experimentation and adventure, over the execution of a perfect recipe. After reading part one I made bread, and also, at Ruhlman’s suggestion, cookies in its simplest form. The point being that once you know the basic recipe you can add anything you like! It took three tries to get it right and I am looking forward to getting a little creative for my next batch.

So the book is due and I’ve only really explored the first part. I don’t know how soon I’ll get to “Part 2: Stocks and the Amazing Things You can do with Them”, but that chapter in the libraries copy will remain unstained…at least on my account.

[Alex Walton · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book isn't even about ratios.

Most of the text is dedicated to recipes and descriptions of technique and multi-page lists of flavor variations. I think I'll just use a cookbook.

Yes ratios are nice for staple foods you'll make often. I don't need a whole book for that, I just need a post-it note on my fridge.

[Whitney · Rating 2 out of 5]

In all honesty, I didn't finish reading this. I thought the concept was fascinating, and useful if I had the time for it.But for now, I think I'll rely on other people's recipe-making skills and just make my own blind modifications.

[Beth · Rating 3 out of 5]

No specific setting. 272 pp. This is much more than a cookbook; it's a food science course bound between two covers. Fascinating look at the "dough to batter continuum" and the benefits of knowing ratios rather than recipes. Admittedly, it's very French-technique oriented, and not all of the ratios are the most useful (glaringly missing are ratios for staples, such as cooking rice). And I would have loved to have a copy or facsimilie of the original ratio table reproduced in the pages; I'd cut that right out and hang it in my kitchen! I guess I'll settle for the ilustration on the front cover.

All that said, the writing is a bit of a struggle to get through. 5 stars on content; 2 stars on writing. I'll call that a 3.

Also used digital copy

Ratio: The Simple Codes Behind the Craft of Everyday Cooking by Michael Ruhlman

[Sam · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book transformed the way I cook, specifically how I bake. I bought other recipe books, I scoured allrecipes.com and while I found some keepers, they were inconsistent; I never felt like I could extrapolate many hard and fast rules that I could apply to other recipes. I've known since the Alton Brown era that weight is better than volumetric recipes (especially when working with flour) but recipes by weight are few and far between. This book is a good first step in simplifying that step for you. Each chapter details a food, e.g. bread, explains the ratio of ingredients (which makes scaling it up and down much simpler), the science behind the ratio, and then some ideas for variations.

This book sparked my creativity with baked goods. I've made more bread in the last three months than I've made my whole life. If you're a baker and you find you can't quite escape the recipe book, this is the book for you.

[Imyra De souza · Rating 4 out of 5]

Livrinho ótimo, com uma idéia poderosa: proporção.

Claro que em cozinha, todo mundo intuitivamente sabe que as proporções são importantes e largamente usadas. Mas esse livro é bem interessante que dá uma sistematizada em tudo. E além de biscoitos, bolos, pães, vinagretes, que são coisas que a gente pensa bastante em proporção, também conta com proporções para caldos e linguiças, por exemplo.

Além de tudo, o autor dá uma explicação para essas proporções e, bem superficialmente, como manipular essas proporções faz mudanças nas receitas. Bem legal para quem quer testar.

A única coisas ruim desse livro, além de achar que ele poderia se aprofundar um pouco mais nas coisas, é que as medidas dele estão em ounces. Não é um grande problema, uma vez que falamos de proporções e se vc trocar por gramas é a mesma coisa. Só tem que prestar atenção quando tem ovos na receita, que vão em unidades. Mas aí, como nessas receitas é importante ter uma balança, mesmo as balanças mais básicas pesam em gramas e ounces (aparece como oz), então a atenção está só em lembrar de mudar a escala.

Infelizmente esse livro não tem tradução para português ainda. Mesmo assim, recomendo bastante!

[Dustin · Rating 5 out of 5]

One of the favorite books on cooking/baking/generally making food that I've come across. Probably appeals to my analytic side, but as someone who isn't a super intuitive cook, the concept of ratios really appeals to me as a baseline that you can build from when making things. It was cool seeing the ratios on the baking side (which I am more familiar with), as I don't often thing of how the different baked goods are defined, and seeing things on the dough-batter continuum was fascinating. On the "cooking" side, having all of the basics outlined was great. I ended up reading a library copy and immediately buying it for a reference guide.

[Kim · Rating 4 out of 5]

Looking to become more independent in the kitchen? Trying to design your own recipes? This is a great place to start.

I read this because I was researching gluten free recipes. As the parent of a celiac kid, I am constantly looking for ways to make things better. And there aren’t always recipes for what I want to make. I was hoping this would help me create recipes where none exist.

The discussion of the ratios is really interesting. I don’t think it is a perfect application to gluten free cooking because wheat flour behaves very differently from GF substitutes, but I learned a lot and I think it will be helpful

[Yaaresse · Rating 2 out of 5]

Ruhlman has a lot of information to impart, but I found this book she tortured to read. It’s written as as if he’s dictating it off the top of his head, possibly while in the shower. It lacks focus. It lacks clarity.

[Jennifer · Rating 4 out of 5]

Michael Ruhlman illuminates the mysteries behind all of those fancy french words you see on menus of fine dining establishments in this book. Pâte à choux? Hollandaise? Mousseline? Bread? It's really just a matter of understanding simple ratios of ingredients. Ruhlman hammers the ease of which one can master the list of ratios, eliminating the need for complicated recipes.

Well, I'm not entirely convinced about "ease." At the end, Ruhlman relates that while both he and his wife understand the ratios for pie-dough making, his dough is better due to his practice, even when they use the same ingredients. I find that PRACTICING using these ratios is the key to understanding cuisine, and that's not quite as easy as memorizing a few numbers.

However, I was engaged by Ruhlman's writing style. I don't normally read cookbooks from cover to cover, but it was easy with this book. And Michael Ruhlman sounds like someone I'd like to have dinner with - he's knowledgable, amusing, and believes in the power of butter. (His fat-based sauces chapter is particularly indulgent.)

I borrowed this book from the library, and I was reluctant to give it back before I was able to try all of the recipes. However, I've been following Michael's blog, Notes from the Food World, and he's duplicated a few of the recipes from his book on his blog. I can't wait to make Shrimp Toast using his mousseline ratio.

If you're a foodie and feel capable of moving past the recipe stage, this book is for you. One day, I hope to feel confident enough to improvise while baking. Ratio might just be inspiring enough to help me make that leap.

[Wordweaverlynn · Rating 5 out of 5]

This elegant book conveys the fundamental principles of cooking: how the proper ratio of basic ingredients (eggs, butter, flour, cream, and sugar, plus the appropriate seasonings) and the techniques to combine them will result in foods as different as cookies, quiche, caramel, creampuffs, and ciabatta.

There are also sections on meat ratios, but these seem less useful. Making stock is simple; I'm not likely to make either sausage or mousseline (no meatloaf, oddly).

What's missing is any mention of preserves -- no jams, jellies, or marmalades, although I'd have thought there would be clear and simple ratios for them, too. And for souffles.

This book is an essential part of the curious cook's library. Or, really, the library of anyone who doesn't want to pore over five dozen recipes in 37 cookbooks to find the best recipe for muffins or vinaigrette. It will change the way you think about cooking. I'm finding new possibilities opening up, and I've been a dedicated cook and cookbook reader for nearly 50 years.

With these ratios, you can make almost anything from hollandaise to bread pudding. Highly, highly recommended.

[Barbara Rice · Rating 1 out of 5]

I was given this book as a gift from someone who thinks I like Alton Brown and that analytical, scientific approach to cooking. I don't. It's my opinion that new cooks who eagerly embrace this concept and leap in unprepared are going to find themselves with culinary disasters on their hands and no idea how to fix them.

I wrote a review on Amazon and was almost immediately crucified for my opinion. According to one anonymous person, I am bitter, not too bright, and unpleasant. Well, hey, fuck you very much too.

I stand by my viewpoint that this concept is no substitute for experience. It's like reading a book on how to drive and then getting behind the wheel, thining that now you're an expert.

[Rina · Rating 4 out of 5]

I found it fascinating to learn about the relationships between foods; how adding more flour or sugar or fat turns x into y, how the difference between sponge and pound cake is the mixing method, how ice cream is just frozen crème anglaise, among others. The obsession with “flavours” on the Great British Bake Off finally made sense, since all base recipes are essentially the same, (assuming good technique) it is the extras that differentiate an okay bake from a great one.

The main negative is that the writing is a little all over the place, which is exacerbated when reading cover to cover.

I’m not about to abandon recipes but it would be fun to use this as a reference guide for experimentation.

[Nathan · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book evolved from a one-page sheet of ratios of ingredients in common cooking tasks: sauces, pastries, etc. That this is a 272-page book is a function of what's necessary to sell on shelves in stores, rather than what's necessary to make a good book. That said, I did find the ratio view to be very useful: I have always had trouble figuring out what the heart of a recipe is, vs the optional extras. This view of a dish, as a core around which everything else is built, is fantastic--it's like an x-ray for cooking. I bought the Kindle edition, and yet again regret it because I want to share the book with family and friends. I am becoming disillusioned with DRMed electronic books.

[Caitlin · Rating 3 out of 5]

Neat concept, but apparently not actually enough material for a whole book because there was SO much filler and unnecessary repetition. Also it was pretty poorly edited- missing steps and ingredients, repeated steps, etc. - and I'm the type that gets too distracted by that. But that said I do imagine getting a lot of mileage out of the ratios included...apparently he's got a iPhone app now. That may be a better format for the info. Haven't tried it, though.

[Kelly · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is my new best friend. I'm sure it has faults (fyi -- I don't buy his claim that yeast can activate in cold water, I tried it & it failed) but I have found it inspiring and interesting. The recipes -- er, I mean, ratios -- are so simple that I can basically go home right now and make bread AND pie AND mayonnaise. I would let you all borrow it, but go buy your own.

[Greg Fanoe · Rating 1 out of 5]

This is actually one of the worst written and edited books I've ever read. Typos, grammatical errors, and just poorly written sentences abound. Further, I read it to learn about cooking and learned barely anything useful, as the book is packed with totally useless chapters like how to make homemade hollandaise sauce and consommé.

[Angela · Rating 4 out of 5]

Not the most engaging book, but one of the most useful in that I can now make a muffin into a scone just by switching the ratio of this and that. Everything is by weight and volume so when I get my Slovenian villa I'll just bring my gram scale and this book and hope the oven has Fahrenheit.

[Jenny · Rating 3 out of 5]

Ugh, too much work to remember those numbers. It may never make me a baker extraordinaire, but I am sticking with good old fashioned recipes!