100 books like Mediterranean Seafood

An absolute classic, this book has had two subsequent editions since its first publication in 1957, each with a new foreword and epilogue. It depicts the pre-Peter Mayle Provence, primitive and resourceful, naïve and worldly wise, generous and hard-working, that Wylie discovered when he spent a year observing life in the village of Roussillon (disguised as Peyrane) in 1950-51. A typical Provençal village, Peyrane—population just over 300, one café-tabac, one hotel, two general stores, and one butcher—was still largely self-sufficient in terms of food, many families owning chickens and rabbits and cultivating a garden. Wylie writes with humour, warmth, and genuine affection for its inhabitants; I loved his account of the firemen's banquet, the attention to detail in the planning process, the banquet itself, and the post-banquet meditations.

Provence has inspired hundreds of books, but Lawrence Durrell captures better than most what he calls its 'real nature'. His book is both personal response (he lived for many years at Sommières, north of Nimes) and historical reflection, particularly on the Roman legacy – a legacy that includes wine and olive oil, perennial staples of the Provençal table. Although Caesar occupied the whole of France, nowhere is the Roman imprint more omnipresent than in Provence; living near Carpentras, we daily dreamed of finding our fortune in an ancient Roman coin, shining through the dust of a lonely track. Durrell's language is poetic, his imagery evocative: the 'Socratic austerity' of a game of boules, the 'felicity and eloquence' of Provençal skies. As a companion to Provence, Durrell is my pick.

In December 1970, a group of acclaimed American culinary experts met in Provence, where Julia Child had a holiday house, planning to celebrate Christmas together. Joining them were food writer Richard Olney and novelists Sybille Bedford and Eda Lord, all living relatively close. Barr, Fisher's grandnephew relies on her journal and letters to recreate their sumptuous tables in delectable detail. Alas, hopes for a joyous gathering of friends soured as egos clashed and petty rivalries intervened; MFK left abruptly and spent Christmas alone in Avignon. What interests me is how these authorities on French cuisine engaged with the French, the relationship between the 'French' cooking they portrayed and the food of the French, and their response to the changes creeping into France post-1968.

Of that group of 1970 expats, only Richard Olney made France his home. Settling in Provence, he enjoyed Lulu's legendary hospitality at the Peyraud family vineyard Domaine Tempier, at nearby Bandol, and spent many hours in her kitchen recording her recipes and culinary tips ('lots of garlic'). To me, Lulu's recipes represent the heart and soul of gastronomic Provence, with direct lineage to the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, such as her Daube à la Provençale with its obligatory accompaniment of macaroni. Essentially simple, her cuisine revels in the robust accents of anchovies and garlic, thyme and savory as it celebrates seasonal and local—if not quite so local as her own backyard, like our landlady on the cherry orchard near Carpentras. 

I often read this book with kids in libraries and classrooms. They love it and I do too because the pictures are simple, repetitive and often show the opposite of what the words have said. That’s what makes it so funny. The eyes of the characters tell so much of this story and the abundance of black sets a slightly menacing mood, which is a great contrast to the confident naïveté of the little fish. There’s a confession on the first page about stealing and we really hope the little fish will get away with it. It’s a wonderful, ambiguous ending and there’s so much to talk to kids about in this book. 

This is one of the most eye-opening and fascinating books I have read.

Having spent much of my life amongst the islands and coastal communities of the British Isles I was intrigued learn more about the fish and I did learn so much. We all know the fishing industry has shaped these islands, but the author delves deeper into what has created and influenced the many varied communities of coastal Britain, as well as illustrating the development of our many styles of fishing vessels.

It is a colourful and enlightening account.

New York Times bestselling author and ecologist Carl Safina writes about the oceans and their inhabitants with beautiful and elegant prose, and this book is not different. Song for the Blue Ocean takes the readers on a passionate and intimate journey of discovery; Safina is a master in revealing the magnificence and the secrets of the ocean realm using his personal experiences in nature.

I loved Anglerfish because you really feel like you are traveling with this particular creature on her journey to the deepest reaches of the ocean. She starts out this really cute, vulnerable baby and ends up pretty darn ferocious looking (here I should add that I think the illustrations are just outstanding!!)

We see her morph from a regular looking baby fish to one that has ferocious teeth, and more unusually, a lantern sticking out of her forehead! This has GOT to be one of the weirdest creatures on the planet! Plus to see the size difference between the female (big) and the male (teeny tiny) was amazing. I turned back to those pages several times. 

Children love being unique and different. We live in a culture that celebrates beauty and shiny, glittery wealth and even “having” a lot.

The beautiful rainbow fish was indeed beautiful on the outside but this did not endear the fish to her peers. This book teaches that in gratitude and service to others, we show our love.

When we show our heart and share from the heart, this is a sign of true beauty, and this helps us better connect with others. And in this way–when we give love, we feel love. 

In The Little Black Fish, our hero is the black fish who observes, thinks, and decides to do things his or her way. The picture book was banned in Iran because the author of the book, a beloved school teacher and thinker, spoke up passionately to advocate for children. When I lived in Iran, the country was managed by one person, the king. When one king or one idea rules with absolute power, people have minimal or no say in the way their country and lives are managed. Rulers at the top are happiest when people do not read, think, or protest the ways that their society is run. This gorgeous book encourages thinking, analyzing, speaking up, and action.

(Mina Javaherbin has read Little Black Fish in its original text, Persian. She has informed us of numerous translations of this book in English and numerous languages. This particular translation… show more.