THE COOKBOOK TEST #0041: THE OFFICIAL STARDEW VALLEY COOKBOOK

INSTALLMENT #0041 (PAID) A VERY BAD YEAR / WORDS, WORDS, WORDS / AH BIG BOWL'A CHOWDAH / EASY AS PIE

Dear Subscribers,

2020 was a tough year for me. Oh, I know - pandemic - it was tough for everyone. But I lost my full-time editing job, watched much of my neighborhood’s businesses burn in the wake of the murder of George Floyd, supported my wife as she navigated a master's program that required two three-hour commutes a week, and cared for two small kids, aged 7 and 2. There were a few particularly stressful nights, when the grocery stores and pharmacies were burning, when I would drink a glass of Scotch early in the evening and I could hear the ice cubes jingle because my hands were shaking. Dear friends and beloved family members helped us get through it, but wow, what a year.

2020 was also the year of Stardew Valley.

It's an independently developed game created by one guy, Eric Barone, AKA "ConcernedApe." He made the art, programmed the game, designed the interface, wrote the story and dialogue, wrote the music, and essentially willed the whole thing into existence. It's a farming game, but it's also a fishing / dungeon exploration / crafting / relationship building game, too. It's remarkably immersive, and extraordinarily relaxing. It took the edge off of a very brutal time, and it will have a spot in my heart forever after. 

To give you a sense of what kind of a following the game has built: ConcernedApe put together an orchestral performance of the game's music that has toured internationally to sell-out crowds. He also releases major new expansions of the game on a regular basis - for free. He's leaving millions of dollars of revenue on the table and reaping, instead, massive amounts of goodwill and a tremendously loyal following.

The fact that I pre-ordered my copy of THE OFFICIAL STARDEW VALLEY COOKBOOK and it came with text indicating that it was the book's third printing indicates that it's doing at least reasonably well. 

Now: If I weren't writing weekly columns for The Cookbook Test, I probably wouldn't have otherwise ordered this book. Cooking is kind of a minor sideline in Stardew Valley, and most of the recipes in the game are pretty standard fare - burgers, pizza, cakes, cookies, and the like. But I was intrigued by how a book like this can turn a purely digital property into something physical, and how it can further deepen an already rabid fanbase's appreciation for the game.

In terms of fitting the spirit of the game, the book's a success. It incorporates characters, quotes, and visuals from Stardew Valley throughout, and it doesn't really seem to "break character" - it restates most of the tone and lore of the game, albeit without really building anything new. The writing is workmanlike but clean, and the layout is appealing and bright. It would certainly make a fine gift for someone mired deeply in Stardew Valley's world already, but it wouldn't make much sense for a newcomer or complete stranger.

But, of course, the central question looms: How's the food?

at your service,

James

THE OFFICIAL STARDEW VALLEY COOKBOOK
BY CONCERNED APE (ERIC BARONE) AND RYAN NOVAK
RANDOM HOUSE | 2024 | $28

The editorial philosophy of The Stardew Valley Cookbook is "never use 250 words when 1,000 words will do." Recipes sprawl for pages, overexplain, and lean into a baroque, Serious Eats-at-its-worst tendency toward an "add part of something, heat it for a while, add a little more, season it, split the stuff into half, season each half separately, recombine it, cool it off, and then stir in more seasonings" sort of overthinking. In the Heavy Table, I recently published my gloss on the (essentially excellent) Serious Eats jerk chicken recipe, which cuts the verbiage and total number of steps in half or more, and still yields a fiercely excellent result. Sometimes precision is warranted (see: patisserie), generally it's just OCD manifesting as responsibility. 

The culinary philosophy is similarly ornate. Take, for example, the book's recipe for clam chowder.

AH BIG BOWL'A CHOWDAH!

In order to make Clam Chowder, The Stardew Valley Cookbook wants you to start by buying 3 pounds of live littleneck clams, scrubbing them, immersing them in water, feeding them flour so that they purge dirt, draining them, rinsing them, steaming them, straining them, shelling them, and finally chopping them up.

Even though I literally have nothing but time to cook, I don't have time for this specific brand of malarkey. I'm not feeding my ingredients before turning them into food, that's something professionals in the ranching and fish farming industries can deal with, thank you very much. 

So instead of the suggested method, I bought 18 oz. of good quality canned clams at the co-op. It saved me about nine steps and a solid hour of effort. (I'm guessing that it also saved me money, or was roughly a break-even prospect, at least.)

Now, you may be saying: Ah, sure, you saved some time, but at what cost to the recipe? Considering that clam chowder has been a ritual dumping ground for near-the-end-of-their-usefulness clams since time immemorial, and the thick, rich, peppery broth conceals both funky flaws and exquisite fresh seafood highlights, I would argue: at absolutely no cost whatsoever. 

I don't like to take shortcuts when they compromise the culinary theory of dish. But when they acknowledge and honor the theory? LOVE me some shortcuts. Love them a lot.