Fresh Air - Ina Garten's Biggest Hosting Fail
Episode Date: September 30, 2024The host of the Food Network's Barefoot Contessa tells Tonya Mosley about a disastrous party she threw when she was 21. Garten invited 20 guests, with the intention of making an individual omelet for ...each person — except she barely knew how to cook an omelet. Her new memoir is Be Ready When Fate Happens.Ken Tucker reviews The 1974 Live Recordings, a newly released recording of some of Bob Dylan's most raucous rock and roll.Learn more about sponsor message choices: podcastchoices.com/adchoicesNPR Privacy Policy
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This is Fresh Air. I'm Tanya Mosley. Like so many of us, one of my favorite pastimes is watching a good cooking show and
deluding myself into thinking that I can make every single dish I see on screen to perfection.
Well, no one makes me feel more like a culinary queen than our guest today, Ina Garten. She first
appeared on our screens in 2002 with her popular food network show Barefoot Contessa. For years, the show was shot
in her real-life kitchen, and it allowed us to follow along as Garten shopped for ingredients,
giving her honest and sometimes hilarious commentary as she tested her recipes. The
ultimate payoff followed, a sit-down meal with her real-life friends and husband Jeffrey.
Well, in a new memoir, Ina Garten takes
us to where it all started, her painful childhood, growing up in Connecticut, and how she went from
working in the White House to becoming a beloved culinary voice, despite having no prior experience
in the food industry. Ina Garten has authored 13 best-selling cookbooks and is returning to
the Food Network with new episodes of Be My Guest. She's won five Emmy Awards and three James Beard Awards. Her new
memoir is titled Be Ready When the Luck Happens. Ina Garten, welcome to Fresh Air.
Thank you so much, Tanya. It's so good to be here.
To say the least, your life is fascinating. And I want to start with your show and then go backwards because Barefoot Contessa is such a beloved show. It's aired for 29 seasons. But your first stab at the show in 2001, about a year before the show we know debuted, you were writing for Martha Stewart Living at the time, and Martha Stewart approached you to ask you if you wanted to host your own show.
They wanted you to be Martha Stewart 2.0.
What kinds of things were they trying to make you do?
Well, for example, I wanted, I mean, very simple things, but I think they were stylistically very important.
They wanted me to have all the ingredients measured out in a way that Martha
has always done. And I said, no, no, no, what I want to do is I want to do it the way you would
do it in your own kitchen. I have a big glass jar filled with flour. I wanted to dip the cup into
the flour and show people how to measure it properly. And they were like, that's not the
way we do it. And I was like, well, that's the way I do it. I think they were so used to producing Martha that they wanted to try and get me to be the
same person. And I kept saying to them, no, you have Martha. You need me to be me. You need me
to be authentic. And so we had this push-pull that just never got resolved.
Well, the Food Network, as you tell us in the book,
begged you to take another stab at it, because you basically told those producers, I'm not doing this,
it's over. You hung up this idea of television at a time when the Food Network, I mean, having a show
on the Food Network, it was just exploding at that time as a network, so everyone was clamoring to be
able to have a show on it if you were in the culinary world.
It was a moment when the Food Network, there was a producer there named Eileen Opetut who decided that it shouldn't be restaurant chefs with toques making very fancy mousses with raspberry sauce and all kinds of things that you would never make at home.
She decided that it should be home cooks. And so she came looking for several people.
And it was Rachel Ray, Paula Deen, and me. And she thought that I could do it. She had seen what
I had done with the Martha Stewart Production Company and liked it. And I said, what did you see that you liked?
And she said, well, when you made it, I had made some kind of a tea sandwich,
and I took a bite out of it, and I said, oh, this is really good.
And she said, that was real.
And the producer said, cut.
You can't talk with something in your mouth.
And I'm like, it's a cooking show.
Lighten up.
I mean, this should be fun.
It shouldn't be like do this and go there and do that.
Because real cooks actually taste their food as they're cooking.
Of course.
And she liked that I thought, oh, this looks so good,
I have to take a bite out of it.
So she came after me for probably another year,
and I just kept saying no.
And at some point I thought maybe she thought I was negotiating. But I. And I just kept saying no. And I, at some point,
I thought maybe she thought I was negotiating. But I finally just said to her, No, I'm not
negotiating. I just don't want to do this. And then somebody found a show that they thought
they really liked a cooking show that was doing really well in England. And it was Nigella Lawson's show. And I said to Eileen, could you just get me a copy of this show
so I could see what people are talking about?
And she got it for me.
She knew the producers, and she got it for me.
And I thought, well, it's gorgeous, but, I mean, it's Nigella.
It's not me.
And the producers were British, so I thought they wouldn't really get my sensibility.
And she said, do me a favor, just have a conversation with them.
And I did, and I thought, wow, they really get what I do.
So reluctantly, I agreed to do 13 shows, and I thought, okay, I'll do them.
They won't be great, but at least it's limited,
and then they'll know I'm not good at this.
Can I have you read actually from the book,
because I think this is a really fascinating part of the story.
Because this is then when you really sat into what you were bringing to this space that was different from Nigella and Martha Stewart and some of those other folks that you were talking about.
Do you have the book in front of you?
I do.
Okay.
I found the challenge of bringing Barefoot Contessa to life terrifying, but totally engaging.
The show's primary focus was food and cooking, but we wanted to make it more than that.
Cooking for me isn't an end. It's a means to an end.
I cook for people I love, and when you cook, everyone shows up.
How many times has somebody called you and said, come for dinner?
And you said, nah, I don't really want a home-cooked dinner and an evening around a table with friends. Never. I wanted the show to be true
to my life and about the world I'd created with great friends and good food in East Hampton.
I would invite people who were genuinely a part of my life, Jeffrey and our friends. No endorsements,
no product placements, just me cooking delicious
dinners and sharing them with the people who meant something to me in the places I loved.
I wanted viewers to feel that they were right there with me through the whole day, as though
they were sitting on a stool on the other side of the counter in my kitchen, watching me cook,
or by my side when I went grocery shopping.
Thank you for reading that, Ina. I really loved reading the behind the scenes of how
the feel of your show came together because everything does feel so natural on your show,
as if we're genuinely watching you think about and prepare a meal for Jeffrey and your friends.
Was there ever a point where you felt self-conscious about the cameras?
Because I think while it feels natural, you've got to do hair and makeup and think about stuff like what you're wearing.
And I know when I'm in the kitchen, I'm not thinking about how I look and what I'm wearing, you know?
Well, I always kind of joke, talking and cooking doesn't come naturally.
I mean, I'm not an easy cook.
I find cooking really hard, so I concentrate a lot.
But at the same time, I have to be talking to this inanimate object that's right in front of me.
So, no, we're going to send the film of the show that we just filmed back to London,
have it edited, and bring it back,
and show you that it's actually really good.
And I thought, oh, it's going to be terrible.
So they sent it out, and it came back.
And I remember watching it, and I said to them,
it's not as bad as I thought,
but just think it's going to be so much better when I get good at this.
And they said, not necessarily.
They said that nervous energy is actually great on film because you really show up.
And I have to tell you, here I am like 25 years later, and I still feel the same way.
You still feel that when you go out in the kitchen in front of those cameras.
I do.
And I just have to say to myself, that's good.
Right. Well, because it's television, though, you all have to do multiple takes, too, right?
I mean, does that come easy? Because it feels so natural, and you have to continue to have it feel natural, even though you're doing multiple takes of a particular scene.
Well, in the beginning, the deal was that we would do every
single take three times. We would do, I have to remember this, we would do one wide shot,
one detail on me, and then one detail on what I was cooking. And I think we had one, maybe two,
but certainly not more than that cameras.
It was so difficult to do the second take because I had to tell exactly the same story I was telling.
I had to pick up the wooden spoon with exactly the same hand
as I did in the first take at exactly the same moment in the story.
Otherwise, they couldn't edit them together.
And then I'd have to do a third take where I was cooking and it was a detail shot of the food and the eggshell going into the sink
and you could hear it. The second and third takes were so difficult because it's impossible to
remember what you just did. And so we did that for several years until I finally said, I just can't do TV anymore.
And they said, you know what?
Your first take is actually better than the other two.
And that's what we end up using.
So let's just lose those.
You said cooking comes hard for you.
What do you mean by that?
Cooking's hard.
I think the people that find cooking easier are, I mean, I watch Bobby Flay
cook, for example. He's just such a natural cook. But also, he's worked on a line in a restaurant
for years. So he's making the same thing over and over and over again. He can do it without
thinking about it. When I'm working on a recipe, I've probably never made it before. And maybe I'll
make it five times or 20 times when I'm working on it for a cookbook. But it's not something I've probably never made it before, and maybe I'll make it five times or 20 times when I'm working on it for a cookbook.
But it's not something I've done over and over and over again.
What you get to experience with people and your work is the joy of being around food and company.
It almost is like you have the best of humanity show up for you because of what you're giving them in the food.
That's interesting. I think that I love cooking for people I love. And the cooking is just the
medium. The thing that I care about is the connection. And so when you cook for people
you love, they feel taken care of. And you make great friends and you create a community for yourself.
And I think that's really what we all need and what we all kind of hunger for.
And the other thing, a lot of people cook to impress
and it's so counterproductive to having relationships with people.
I just find if I make a roast chicken with vegetables in the pan,
people are just thrilled that it's really simple and it's delicious. Did you always know that or did you have to learn it? Well, I think I learned it. The
first party I ever had was a total disaster and it was counter to everything that I believe now.
And I invited 20 people, which is a terrible number because you can't really entertain 20
people that don't know each other. And I
decided to make an omelet for every one of them. I barely know how to make an omelet now. I can't
imagine that when I was 21, I could make 20 omelets, but I did. And I was in the kitchen
the entire time. And it was such a bad party. I almost never had another party again.
Right. I mean, so what you learned in that was the simpler, the better.
And also the guest configuration.
So small, intimate gatherings.
Like when is too much, too much, especially when people don't know each other?
I just like six people around a round table and a small round table, not a big one.
I think the size of the table can just wreck a dinner party.
Very often people have long rectangular tables that are way too wide and people are seated too far apart.
I like when everybody's kind of like their knees are almost touching and it feels very intimate with a candle, the darker room and a candle in the middle.
It brings everybody's attention in,
and everybody in a round table is equidistant from everybody else.
Okay, Ina, let's go back. Let's go way back to the 70s. You're a 20-something working in the White House. What was your job? I worked in a group called Office of Management and Budget. And what we did was
write the president's budget that was sent to Congress. And I worked in nuclear energy policy.
So I wrote the budgets, or I oversaw the budgets of the Nuclear Regulatory Commission and the part
of what's now the Department of Energy that oversaw nuclear material.
What you were doing and what you do now, I mean, it feels like it's on like two different sides of like a spectrum.
There is a connection, actually.
And certainly, I'm much happier making chocolate cakes than I was nuclear material.
But I've always been very interested in science.
And the way I feel about what I do now is it's science, but you end up with something delicious instead of enriched uranium.
Right, right. Well, the story of how you went from that job to owning then a specialty food shop in the Hamptons and then going on to becoming this dominant force in the culinary world, It actually started with an ad that you saw in the New York Times.
What did that ad say?
It was a tiny little ad in what was the business opportunity section in the New York Times where they advertised like dry cleaners in the Bronx.
And actually my collaborator, Debra Davis, went back in the archives and surprised me by finding the ad, which was stunning.
I mean, why would anybody answer that ad is beyond my comprehension.
And it turned out it was the first day that the owner had decided to advertise.
And I just happened to see it.
It's the craziest act of luck I can possibly imagine.
But, Ina, what was it about the ad that made you believe you could own a shop?
It was a specialty food store and cheese shop, and it was spelled S-H-O-P-P-E, which is even crazier.
I think that I loved cooking, and I thought, well, maybe it would be fun to own a specialty food store.
So I thought, well, I was just going to investigate it.
I didn't know it was anything that would end up being my life.
How old were you again?
I was just—I had just turned 30.
And you and Jeffrey, how long had you been together at that time?
Ten years.
We got married when I was 20. Yeah, he's had you been together at that time? Ten years. We got married when I was 20.
Yeah, he's thinking what at the time when you brought this home and said, hey, check this out.
Well, I actually didn't.
I came home and I said to him, I really just, this just isn't me.
You know, I'm not interested in budgets.
I'm not interested in nuclear energy.
And I really need to find something creative that feels like me.
And he said such a great thing.
He said, you know, why don't you just think about what would be fun?
Just if it's fun, you'll be really good at it.
Just don't worry about making money.
Just think of something that would be really fun to do.
And I said, funny you should mention that.
I saw this ad for a business for sale that
was a specialty food store in a place I'd never been, the Hamptons. It was in West Hampton.
And he said, let's go look at it, which was stunning. I'm sure he, looking back now,
I'm sure he would say he was just humoring me. But the two of us got into the car that weekend
and drove from Washington, D.C. to West Hampton Beach, New York.
Which is about, like, what, five hours?
Oh, God, more than that.
It's got to be six or seven hours.
And we pulled into this little town.
And I mean to say that there was nothing happening in this town in April.
It's a summer resort.
There's nobody in town.
I mean, my image
is that there was tumbleweed going down the middle of the street. And there was this tiny little
store. It was 400 square feet. And I walked in and they were baking chocolate chip cookies.
And I just remember thinking, wow, this is where I want to be. I actually remember we were staying in a hotel nearby
that was one of those places that looked like it was so cold and austere
that it looked like there were no sharp objects in the room,
like it was an insane asylum.
And I remember thinking, we're about to do something totally insane.
This hotel is perfect for us.
And I thought, I just want to be here. I just don't
know why, but I just need to be here. And so we met with the owner and I made her a low offer.
She was asking for $25,000, which was more money than we had in the world. And I just, on a whim, offered her $20,000, thinking, well, we'll go home, we'll negotiate, I'll have time to think about this.
And we drove back to Washington.
And Monday morning, I was in my office, and the phone rang, and it was Diana, the owner.
And she said, thank you very much, I accept your offer.
And I remember thinking, oh, right, I, thank you very much. I accept your offer. And I remember thinking,
oh, right. I just bought a food store. I remember going to my boss and going,
you're not going to believe what I just did. Right. I got a new career. I mean, you didn't
have any experience running a store. Of course, I'd never had an employee. I had never worked in the food business.
I had never even waitressed in a restaurant.
I literally had no experience.
I'd never run a business.
Well, the store, it already had a name, Barefoot Contessa, named by the previous owner, Diana Strata.
Her family had nicknamed her that because she's Italian. Did you ever
consider changing the name? I actually was certain I would change the name. But the deal I made with
Diana, since I obviously had no experience, is that she would stay with me for a month
so that she could teach me when the brie was ripe, how to do the payroll, how to slice smoked salmon.
I mean, I literally knew nothing. I could make 12 brownies, but I had no idea how to do the payroll, how to slice smoked salmon. I mean, I literally knew nothing.
I could make 12 brownies, but I had no idea how to make 100.
And I thought to myself,
I'm going to keep everything exactly the way it is for the summer,
and then in the winter when it was closed,
I can work on the recipes and decide what the name should be because I felt it should be the name should tell you what it is,
where it is, who it is, something personal.
And the name really related to Diana, not me.
But then as the summer progressed, I realized it actually had a resonance that was really
nice because it was about being elegant and earthy at the same time.
And I think that really was what the store was about.
And also you?
Maybe not yet, but I was hoping to be.
Yes.
But I think my style was that I like things that are elegant and simple.
And I think that's what Barefoot Contessa really connoted.
My guest today is Ina Garten,
and we're talking about her new memoir,
Be Ready When the Luck Happens.
We'll be right back after a short break.
I'm Tanya Mosley, and this is Fresh Air.
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This is Fresh Air. I'm Tanya Mosley, and I'm talking today to Ina Garten about her new memoir, Be Ready When the Luck Happens.
Garten is best known for her award-winning show Barefoot Contessa, which debuted on the Food
Network in 2002. Beyond her cooking prowess, Garten is known for her enduring marriage to
Jeffrey Garten, whom she met at age 16 and married in 1968. In her new book, she gives us a candid
look into her life, including her challenging childhood and the pivotal moments that shaped
her career. Okay, Ina, I want to talk with
you a little bit about your childhood and growing up in Stanford, Connecticut with your parents and
your brother Ken. You say that they were into appearances. Can you describe a little of what
that meant for you as a child? I think my parents, remember, this is the 50s. It's not the era of
helicopter parents who are encouraging their children to do extraordinary things. This is
an era where you did what the parents told you to do. And my parents were particularly harsh about
it. I think my brother and I recently were talking and we both came to the same conclusion
that I think my mother was somewhere on the spectrum, that she did not have a relationship.
And so she dealt with it by pushing us away and making sure that she didn't actually have to
spend time with us. So I spent most of my time in my bedroom and my brother spent time in his.
And then my father was a really, really harsh authoritarian figure.
If you didn't do exactly what he wanted you to do, it was met with pretty serious anger and sometimes, I want to say violence, but hitting.
And it was a very difficult way to grow up.
You felt like your parents didn't have many expectations of you.
My parents had no expectations of me.
In fact, I think the only thing I remember is just total disappointment because I wouldn't do what they
wanted me to do. They never gave me an opportunity to do what I wanted to do. And, you know, I talk
about this in the book, not so much because it was such a terrible childhood. It certainly wasn't a
happy one, but there were so many worse childhoods. But I wanted people to know that the story of your childhood doesn't necessarily need to be the story of your life.
That you can, with total determination, which is what I did.
I remember when I was 15, I remember thinking to myself, if I'm dating someone who so much as raises his voice to me, let alone his hand, I was out of there.
That I needed to do this differently. And I think a lot of people make that determination, but then forget and follow through
and end up having the same kind of family they grew up in. And I decided I was absolutely doing
it differently. And I really did. You made that declaration to yourself at 15, and it wasn't long after that you met Jeffrey.
I know. Isn't that amazing?
I mean, literally, we've known each other for 60 years, and we've literally never had a fight.
I just can't even—I mean, if there's something you disagree about, you just talk about it and figure it out.
You all really could write a book about marriage.
But one of the revelations that has come from the book is that there was a moment about a decade into your relationship when you thought about divorce.
Well, I think that's a little harsh.
I think I certainly thought about hitting the brakes.
I mean, remember, this is the 70s. And we both assumed
that he would be the husband and I would be the wife, and that he would take care of the finances
and I would have dinner on the table. I mean, we had prescribed roles. But it was a time when
women were becoming aware that just because we were women didn't mean that there
were things that we had to do. I mean, I really credit Gloria Steinem and Ready for Dan for
making us think about it. And it may be that you want to have dinner on the table,
but it doesn't mean that because you're the woman, you're the only one who should have dinner on the table. So I was becoming aware of this,
and Jeffrey, who had no reason at all to change his mind, wasn't.
And so I found some frustration with being in a prescribed role as the wife.
What I really wanted was more of a partnership,
and I just couldn't get him to
see it. Because of course, why should he? It's, you know, life was great for him. He'd go to work
and come home and have a great dinner. And I just, I couldn't quite get through. And so I thought,
okay, I'm going to hit the pause button. And when I think back now, I think how scary that was, because I could have lost him.
And I loved him the whole time. But I just felt, I felt, I just, I loved him, but I couldn't live
with him. So, and now I had a business. I wanted to spend time with a business. I didn't want to be
distracted. So all of those things were happening at the same time. And one weekend in West Hampton, that first summer, we took a long
walk on the beach. And I said, I feel like I need to be on my own for a while. And just as Jeffrey
Wood said the right thing, he said, if you feel you need to be on your own, then you need to be
on your own. And he went back to Washington and didn't come back.
And it was a tough time.
That separation, though, was important.
It was brief, but it was important because it led you all back to each other.
It led us back to a different kind of relationship.
I think I really got his attention.
And it changed him, but I have to say it changed me as well.
And he was at the State Department at the time, and he was going on a trip around the world.
And he said, when I come back in, I think it was November or December, why don't we meet in Palm Springs and we'll see where we are. And so we met in Palm Springs and we talked and we talked
and we figured out the things that were bothering us
and things that, for example, Jeffrey felt,
since he was the husband and responsible for me,
that he couldn't travel so much.
And I said, sure you can, because I'll always be there.
We'll be the anchor in each
other's lives and it will give us more freedom, not less. And so we really changed how we
work together. And what we came out of with is a partnership, a true partnership. And I remember
thinking to myself, oh my God, I'm falling in love with somebody who just happens to be my husband. One of the choices that you made was
to not have children. And that was very much a concerted choice. Can you say more about that
choice? Well, when Jeffrey and I got married, I don't think I really had that in my head. But the more I kind of grew and thought about making deliberate decisions, the more I realized I didn't have a happy childhood.
I have no idea what that even would look like.
And actually, to the extent that I didn't even understand why people had children, because there was nothing happy from my, it was, we didn't spend time together, we didn't talk to each other, we didn't
do things together, we didn't play games. The things that we did together, we had to do,
we had no choice. So I just didn't have any happy memories from being a child.
So the thought of having children and recreating that was just unthinkable, frankly.
Let's take a short break. If you're just joining us, my guest is Ina Garten,
bestselling author and host of Be My Guest and Barefoot Contessa on the Food Network,
now streaming on Max. We're talking about her new memoir titled Be Ready When the Luck Happens.
We'll continue our conversation after a short break. This is Fresh Air.
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This is Fresh Air, and today we're talking to award-winning author and Food Network host Ina Garten.
She's written a new memoir, Be Ready When the Luck Happens,
about growing up in Connecticut and finding her passion for food and cooking.
Garten became a household name in the 2000s
when her show Barefoot Contessa debuted on the Food Network.
And she's written 13 cookbooks and has won five Emmy Awards
and three James Beard Awards.
So much of your world is home and hearth and like warmth and comfort and
the food is comfort food. What kind of foods were you eating when you were growing up? What was your
mom's cooking like? No sane person would call it comfort food. It was nutritious, is what I would
say. My mother was very extreme in the way she cooked. It was never for the
pleasure of it. It was broiled chicken, broiled fish, canned peas. I don't think anybody ever
thought about whether it was delicious or not. She did what she needed to do to get dinner on
the table. And maybe for your birthday, you could have
something special, but that was about it. Nobody ever asked what you wanted for dinner.
And the extreme part was that you were never allowed to have carbohydrates,
and you were never allowed to have anything with fats in it. So it was really just protein and
vegetables, and not even fresh vegetables. It was like canned vegetables.
I remember like Harvard beets. It was just the worst.
When did you discover salt, fat, all of that, like carbs, your famous brownies that you were
making for friends? Was it when you went off to college?
No, not at all in college. I do remember when Jeffrey and I rented our first house.
He was in the military, and we were living in North Carolina,
and we rented a really pretty garden apartment.
And I remember walking into that apartment and looking around and thinking,
oh, my God, I can do anything I want.
I can cook anything I want.
I can decorate this house any way I want.
I was free, and that's anything I want. I can decorate this house any way I want. I was free.
And that's when I started.
And I had bought myself Craig Claiborne's New York Times cookbook, which was a big deal at the time.
And I just started cooking my way through that book.
I want to ask you something about Jeffrey's role on Barefoot Contessa because he's, you mentioned it, he's an investment baker.
He has been an investment baker at the Undersecretary of Commerce in the Clinton
administration. He taught business and foreign policy classes at Columbia and NYU and Yale.
And he's also an author just like you. Has it ever bothered either of you that there is this
perception that he's your sidekick?
Well, he's hardly my sidekick. There's a funny story. There was somebody,
one of the students at Yale was writing an article about him for the Yale newsletter. I don't know
what it was called. The Yale magazine. And the guy came into Jeffrey's office and sat down and said,
so are you really the doofus that you see on Barefoot Contessa? And all I could think is,
here's a guy who worked for the Secretary of State, wrote speeches in his 20s for Secretary
Kissinger and Vance, then became an investment banker and went to foreign governments and restructured the economies of foreign countries that were having financial problems.
And then became undersecretary of commerce in the Clinton administration and then the dean of the business school at Yale.
I mean, he's extraordinary.
He's really smart.
He's funny.
He's sweet. And he leads with his heart. He's an extraordinary guy. And you're right think you found out Taylor Swift is one of your biggest fans.
You're also a gay icon. Yeah, you're also a gay icon. I mean, how does it feel to know that
like just being yourself, people love and accept you?
That's pretty extraordinary, I have to say. I don't know that I'm an icon for anybody, but I
think one of the things I love about what I do is that everybody cooks.
Everybody's interested in food.
And I have people tell me that I watch your show or cook with my grandmother, my daughter, my uncle.
I mean, that they all – it appeals to generations and different people from different walks of life.
And I always love this story.
I was walking up Madison Avenue one day and a woman in a big fur coat and she said, oh, darling, I just love your cookbooks.
And a block later, a truck driver pulled over and said, hey, babe, love your show.
And I thought, that's food.
Everybody's interested in food. And they absorb what I've put out in the world in the way that they want to absorb it,
whether it's watch a show, listen to an interview, or read a cookbook. But it's wonderful that it
appeals to so many different people. And it's things that they do together, which I love.
And I'm not giving people something specific. I'm giving them the tools so that they can do it for themselves. And when people make a coconut cake and they put it on the table
and people say to them, you made this yourself, it makes us feel good.
This has been an absolute pleasure.
Thank you so much for this book and this conversation.
Tanya, thank you so much.
It was such a pleasure to talk to you.
That was cookbook author and Food Network star Ina Garten.
Coming up, rock critic Ken Tucker reviews Bob Dylan's massive 27-disc set of his 1974 live recordings.
This is Fresh Air.
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This is Fresh Air.
Bob Dylan and the band toured together in January and February of 1974
in a series of 40 concerts in 21 cities,
resulting in a live double album called Before the Flood,
released later that same year.
Well, now Bob Dylan is releasing a massive 27-CD set
called The 1974 Live Recordings.
It captures some of the most raucous rock and roll
Dylan has ever made.
Rock critic Ken Tucker listened to all 431 songs in this collection and has this review. You say you told me that you want to hold me
But you know you're not that strong
I just can't do what I've done before
I just can't beg you anymore
I'm gonna let you pass
Just a mouthful less That locomotive power and rhythm, the headlong careening pace,
the way the vocals are shouted into a gale-force wind
created by the guitars, the drums, and the yelling of the audience.
That's the way Bob Dylan and the band commenced many dates on their 1974 tour,
with a steamrolling version of
Most Likely You'll Go Your Way and I'll Go Mine.
The version I played to start this review
is from the January 30th show at Madison Square Garden.
Here's how they grappled with Tough Mama, a rollicking barroom brawl of a song from Dylan's then-current album Planet Waves, in a Philadelphia afternoon show. Me shaking on your bone
I'm gonna
Go down to the river and get some stone
I was in the house
And there I met two
Sisters of the big house
And working days are through
Talk my love
Can I blow the smoke on you?
When Bob Dylan first toured with the band,
then called the Hawks, in 1966,
it was soon after he'd gone electric
and his folky fan base came out to boo him.
Guitarist Robbie Robertson wrote about how depressing it was to go from town to town
and face such hostile disapproval night after night.
One way to hear the beginning of the 1974 tour, therefore, is as Bob's revenge.
He and Robbie and drummer Levon Helm, bassist Rick Danko, keyboardists Garth Hudson and Richard Manuel greet the now adoring fans with shocking aggressiveness, their instruments blazing every night, a high noon showdown. A girl like God
I swear she's a screaming girl
Well, a girl like God
I swear she's a screaming girl
She's gonna need egg She goes, please, you be a hero
So she can tell her lover a friend
That's the song that kicked off the entire tour in Chicago,
a deep-cut obscurity called Hero Blues, which was never played again.
The standard set list for this tour included such Dylan touchstones as Like a Rolling Stone,
Lay Lady Lay, and Forever Young.
But there's not a trace of nostalgia in these performances.
You have to understand, big star acts just did not play their hits live in this manner 50 years ago.
The idea had always been to reproduce, to the best of one's ability,
the sound of the studio recordings, and then toss in some well-rehearsed spontaneity to make the
crowd feel it was getting a unique experience. But Dylan and the band gave new meaning to the
term bang for your buck. They detonated, exploded these songs. You might have known what tune you
were about to get from the opening chords,
but you sure as heck couldn't imagine the frenzy of what was to follow. You're dressed so fine Do the bumps so dime In your frame Didn't you?
People call me beware, doll You're bound to fall
You thought they was all kidding you
You used to laugh about
Everybody that was hanging out
Now you don't talk so loud
Now you don't speak so loud
About having to be scrounging around
To make your next meal
Oh, does that mean To make your next meal
How does that feel?
How does that feel?
To be without a home
With no direction home
Like a complete unknown There was a fair amount of revisionist thinking about this tour in the years following it, with some commentators saying the music was too loud, rushed, and messy,
that Dylan was willfully mangling his own songs.
Dylan himself contributed to this revisionism by giving interviews putting down the tour. He told Cameron Crowe,
it was all sort of mindless. The only thing people talked about was energy this, energy that.
The highest compliments were things like, wow, a lot of energy, man. On stage, Dylan sounds at
various times impatient, cranky, contemptuous, not of
the audience but of his own performance. There are moments when he lures the band into matching his
own foul mood. Listen to the way Garth Hudson mimics on his keyboard the prissy phrasing Dylan
uses to begin a pretty terrible version of Ballad of a Thin Man. ¶¶ somebody naked you say who is that man you try so hard
but you don't
understand
what you're gonna say
when you get home
you know something's happening here
but you don't know what it is
tell you Mr. John You know something's happening here, but you don't know what it is.
Tell you, Mr. John.
That was from a Philadelphia afternoon show.
Now listen to the far better, more animated, more committed version of the same song he performed the next night in the same city.
You walk into the room with your pencil in your hand. next night, in the same city. But you don't understand What you're gonna say when you get home Because something is happening
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mr. Jones?
Bob Dylan and Garth Hudson are now the only ones alive from the six men on stage here.
I had a great time listening to these 27 discs over a number of days,
and I never felt I was dwelling in the past.
Dylan and the band's sometimes exhilarated, sometimes exhausted,
always craving a change music suits the era we're living in.
It's 50 years old, but it's also right on time.
Nobody feels any pain
Tonight as I stand inside the rain
Everybody knows
Baby's got new clothes
But lately I see
Her ribbons and her bows
Have fallen from her curls
She takes just like a woman
She wakes just like a woman, she wakes.
Just like a woman, she aches.
Just like a woman, but she breaks.
Just like a little girl.
Ken Tucker reviewed Bob Dylan's The 1974 live recordings.
Tomorrow on Fresh Air, Ta-Nehisi Coates talks about his trip to Senegal, where he reflected on his ancestors' enslavement, and his trip to Israel and the West Bank, where he got a firsthand look at the ongoing conflict.
He's best known for his book Between the World and Me and his Atlantic Magazine cover story, The Case for Reparations.
His new book is called The Message.
I hope you can join us.
Our interviews and reviews are produced and edited by Phyllis Myers,
Anne-Marie Baldonado, Sam Brigger, Lauren Krenzel, Teresa Madden,
Monique Nazareth, Thea Chaloner, Susan Yakundi, Joel Wolfram, and Anna Bauman.
Our digital media producers are Molly C.V. Nesper and Sabrina Seaworth.
With Terry Gross, I'm Tanya Moseley.
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