A book like this does a critically important service. One could imagine oneself dithering at the Arnaud Larher counter and not knowing what to order. Important life decisions like this need planning. Might I suggest a patisserie tour, rotating hotels so that you would be a decent walk from several in any given timespan?
This book is something else. You will not find pictues of bowls of batter or baking pans this book. It is way too fine for that. No prep work is shown at all. Every photo of a pastry or pasteries is to its' best advantage. And the 160 page main-part-of-the-book is loaded with pictures. No pages are all text, but plenty of pages are all pictures. It is pretty big book which I didn't expect when I pre-ordered it. I've never seen anything like this and I don't say that lightly as I have over a thousand cookbooks. In a sense it is a deep insider book, a book which seeks perfection of art on so many levels, including the incredible photography. This is the culmination of centuries of thinking, perceiving and adjusting. That's the thing about dessert creation at this level... so many senses are involved, some of them barely recognized, leaving one inarticulate. It reminds me a bit of an episode of Julia Child's cooking show I saw when I was a kid. Another woman was there and she ate some dessert Julia Child made and she started to weep. On TV! No words. And Julia Child said reassuringly, "I know, that happens to me with desserts sometimes." That unexpected bit-of-life stuck with me, made me wonder if there was more to dessert than Midwestern cakes, cookies and pies, which, no matter how perfect have never made me want to weep. Sure, I've a bit dumbstruck and inarticulate when the taste of something is beyond words, but weep? Made me wonder. I think there is a clue in this book.
And the book doesn't just include pictures of a perfect and bright confection on a plate, it also contains groups of them, muliples of them, and fabulous patisserie counters and surrounding architecture, inside and out.
The discussion is easy to read, and full of history, the stuff that us cooks like to know. You may think, as did I, that they forgot the recipes, but 25 of them are tucked in the back of the book. The recipes and other information in the back of the book are printed cunningly done on heavy pinky-lilac paper, a color associated with old-fashioned bakery tradiitonal wrapping paper. The dust jacket is heavily glossed, a Parisian peachy pink. so you can see where this is going color-wise. It is all on the exquisite plane of life. (Sigh)
Invaluable information on the best pastry shops and what to look for in each is also indexed in the back. Not simply a list with addresses, but rather intense descriptions of what each place does best, when to buy (what time of day, what days of the week, what season), and so on. One could become an expert with this kind of insider stuff. (I know, I know... "Yes Madam, those stretchy pants are adorable on you.") For people who don't get layered dessert flavors and textures confections like these may look overwrought, but they are works of art to be appreciated on so many levels. For those with simpler tastes, there are stunning rolls, croissants, and bread in the last grouping. The thing is that the photography is really something. Everything catches your interest and it's all "suitable for framing" quality pictures.
Section-wise you are looking at:
-Forward by Pierre Herme
-Cakes from our Childhood: i.e., eclairs, meringues, tartes
-Chocolate Magic: i.e., cakes and gateaux that are works of art
-Contmporary Creations: i.e., macaroons, shot glass desserts
-Viennoiseries and Treats to go: i.e., croissants, brioches, turnovers, cookies
And, in case anyone wonders, the recipe for Pierre Herme's Ispahan macaroons-using an Italian meringue preparation-is included.
So, if you are blowing your life on the likes of Dunkin' Donuts, Baskin Robbin's ice cream cakes, and the grocery store bakery all of whom are reliant on the thrifty combination of white mystery fat scooped out of a tub and whipped with sugar, remember that you only go around once. Think about perusing this book about perfect acheivements, an oh-so-elegant saunter through the pictureseque pinnacle of centuries of mankind's work in the art of patisserie. Think about cashing in the retirement fund (OK, only part of it) and get yourself on a plane to enjoy it for yourself. Evidently, desserts are baking, whipping, glazing, and being arranged perfectly in extraordinarily fetching Parisian settings, patisserie productions for which words of enjoyment have not yet been invented and for which, perhaps, the only response will be to weep.