海角大神

James Beard has been called the Dean of American Cookery and America鈥檚 first foodie. In his juicy new biography, 鈥淭he Man Who Ate Too Much: The Life of James Beard,鈥� John Birdsall paints a portrait of an epicure who was 鈥渄evoted to pleasure at the table as an essential part of the good life鈥� 鈥� but also of a public persona who had to hide a part of himself in an era of rampant homophobia.

Beard (1903-1985), known for his robust appetite and encyclopedic knowledge of food, was a huge presence in the mid-20th century culinary world. His influence helped seed the current farm-to-table movement and the popularity of farmers鈥� markets. Birdsall writes that Beard, who weighed close to 300 pounds, 鈥渙wned his indulgence.鈥� His 1946 cooking show, the first on national television, was called 鈥淚 Love to Eat.鈥澛�

At a time when industrially processed frozen foods and TV dinners were the rage, Beard was an early and adamant proponent of fresh ingredients.聽 He championed taste over convenience in his many cookbooks, countless magazine columns, and popular cooking classes, creating 鈥渁 rough blueprint for what writers a quarter of a century later would dub New American.鈥�

But Birdsall, who won a James Beard Award for his 2014 essay, 鈥淎merica, Your Food Is So Gay,鈥� writes of a darker side of Beard鈥檚 life: the strain of keeping his homosexuality carefully under wraps. Although Beard came out to his mother and friends at an early age, during his freshman year he was expelled from Reed College in Portland, Oregon, for homosexuality. The experience devastated him, and led indirectly to the creation of an avuncular figure whose 鈥渙nly lust was for food.鈥�

Birdsall鈥檚 biography determinedly excavates what Beard and his friends tried to cover up permanently. This includes his decadeslong, choppy relationship with Italian-born architectural draftsman-turned-pastry chef Gino Cofacci, with whom he shared his Greenwich Village townhouse albeit in separate apartments.

鈥淭he Man Who Ate Too Much鈥� can be viewed as a sort of companion volume to David Leavitt鈥檚 2006 biography of computer scientist Alan Turing, 鈥淭he Man Who Knew Too Much鈥� 鈥� though Turing鈥檚 persecution for his homosexuality had far more serious consequences.

This essentially chronological biography opens with a vivid (if overly long) account of 10-year-old James鈥� annual spring migration with his mother from their gloomy home in Portland to the bliss of oysters and long swims in coastal Gearhart Park.聽聽

His iconoclastic, English-born mother, Elizabeth, was a seminal influence. A businesswoman who ran a Portland guest house known for its good food, she married Beard鈥檚 widowed father, a customs house inspector, because she wanted a child. The marriage was a disaster. Her great love was a woman she rarely saw, and her life 鈥渨as a never-ending revolt against anyone who ever tried to enclose her.鈥�

Beard鈥檚 story highlights life鈥檚 unpredictability. His early ambition was to become an opera singer, but he failed his conservatory tryout in London. His attempts at a theatrical career were also 鈥渇ruitless and frustrating.鈥� His 20s and 30s were filled with odd jobs 鈥� teaching drama at a private girls鈥� school, working in the interior decorating department of a Portland store, playing an extra in movie crowd scenes in which he stood out by virtue of his size.聽聽

It was in New York City that he parlayed his ability to cook into a career. A social creature, he made crucial connections on the party circuit, which led to the creation of a catering company, Hors d鈥橭euvre, Inc., which in turn led to his first book contract.

More cookbook contracts followed in rapid succession 鈥� despite聽some problematic practices聽that Birdsall reveals in this warts-and-all portrait. Beard鈥檚 manuscripts were a mess, requiring extensive editing that essentially amounted to co-authorship. His ghostwriters, who helped shape Beard鈥檚 voice as a 鈥渟pirited yet pedantic professor,鈥� received a cut of the advance, but that was usually it: No royalties, nevermind bylines.

Beard, Birdsall tells us repeatedly, was notoriously 鈥渟tingy with acknowledgments.鈥� This extended to crediting the sources of his recipes. He borrowed without permission from friends and associates, practically verbatim, and also reprinted his own recipes in book after book with only minor tweaks, if any. Birdsall doesn鈥檛 excuse him but explains that 鈥渃uration was James鈥檚 mode of authorship.鈥�

What comes through in this sometimes sobering portrait is that the impresario was overextended. Beard rarely said no to a project, even when faced with ridiculously tight deadlines. Although he was good at delegating, he often felt burned out, depressed, and lonely.聽

Birdsall鈥檚 book is replete with delicious details 鈥� like the centerpieces of bread dough slowly rising at Beard鈥檚 80th birthday celebration 鈥� but there are some noticeable gaps. Less focus on Beard鈥檚 book deals and more of his recipes would have been welcome. So, too, would consideration of his central role in the creation of the remarkable Four Seasons restaurant. Also missing is a nod to the James Beard Foundation, which carries on Beard鈥檚 legacy by nurturing chefs and food writers, in part with its annual awards, the Oscars of the gastronomic sphere.

And what a legacy it is. 鈥淏eard argued for taste,鈥� Birdsall writes in this rich biography. 鈥淗e made food central to American identity.鈥�

In addition to 海角大神, Heller McAlpin reviews books regularly for NPR, The Wall Street Journal, and The Los Angeles Times.