Ariel de Guzman: The Bush Family Cookbook

It was the carrot carved into the shape of a palm tree, topped by green peppers shaped to resemble its fronds and designed to decorate an otherwise simple dish of cold salmon, that made me realise this was no ordinary cookbook.

Then there were recipes, a strange assortment, particularly a concoction called "Grandmother Pierce's Creamy Salad Ring", of which more later.

These dishes are not really of the modern world — there's not a rocket leaf or sundried tomato in sight. These are dishes laden with cream and butter, where tinned peaches and frozen vegetables are key, and bits of bacon top a chicken curry; dishes in which the ring mould rules.

But this is not some ironic retro-cuisine. Neither is this a republished work from the culinary Dark Ages. This is The Bush Family Cookbook, by Ariel De Guzman, personal chef and house manager to George Bush snr and his wife Barbara, from the White House onwards. This is the food George W. and brother Jeb, the Governor of Florida, eat at home, this is what the President gets when he returns to the bosom of his family.

It's what the Bushes and their circle like to eat at "informal family buffet suppers" and "casual pool parties" at their homes in Houston and Walker's Point, Maine. And frankly, most of it is odd, bizarre even. Guzman's book suggests that out there in America's heartland, there are people still eating as if it's the 1950s.

The Bushes keep this tradition alive with recipes such as baked chicken breasts, which, we are assured, has been in Mrs Bush's family cookbook since the time she and George were at Yale. It goes: "One pack of onion soup. One can of mushroom soup. One pint of sour cream ... which you mix with the chicken breasts before baking."

Vast amounts of cream and sugar are bunged in at every opportunity, egg yolks are used as thickening, and even with a simple tomato and mushroom sauce for pasta, butter instead of olive oil is used to fry mushrooms — and, incomprehensibly, flour is added. I could feel arteries clogging reading about this stuff, let alone eating it. And why frozen peas and beans (and mayonnaise and cream) in a vegetable casserole? Don't they have fresh vegetables? Are they trying to economise?

Not that we can see what most of these dishes are supposed to look like. In an age when food photography is positively pornographic, this book contains some rather small and slightly artificial images of dishes, including a couple involving the carrot palm trees, one of a carved pineapple and many of de Guzman — including one with George W. with his arm around the cook and a strained expression on his face. Perhaps he was digesting lunch.

To be fair on de Guzman, originally a Navy chef, he is presumably cooking to order, although one should be wary of anyone whose "signature dishes" are Chicken Kiev and Chicken Cordon Bleu.

But what does all this taste like? I was determined to discover whether culinary treasures lurked here and enlisted friends to sample a range of de Guzman's creations. That meant tackling Grandmother Pierce's creamy salad ring which has been passed down from Barbara Bush's grandmother. It is a sugared sauce of tinned tomatoes, with diced salad vegetables, horseradish, cream and mayonnaise, set with gelatine in a ring mould.

All went fine until I took it out of the fridge, eased it out of the ring, dressed it with seafood and brought it into a warm room. It melted rapidly, a pinkish creamy sauce slowly oozed out, exposing bits of cucumber and celery and turning the crabmeat in the centre into a mush.

The reaction was polite: "It ... er, tastes exactly like a prawn cocktail." No one asked for seconds — perhaps put off by the acid aftertaste. Next was a Walker's Point seafood chowder, a soupy dish made with fresh instead of de Guzman's tinned clams and thickened with cream and egg yolks. Colleague Matthew Hoffman, a token Yank, was unimpressed: "There's something wrong, this isn't the chowder I'm used to."

Someone else thought it OK, if a bit heavy and again, no seconds. A corn spoon-bread, consisting of sweetcorn (tinned) and cornmeal, baked with milk, eggs and cheese. Tasty but stodgy.

Surprise hit (almost) was a dish Mrs Bush snr apparently brought home from Las Vegas from the wife of Steve Wynn, "owner/builder of many Las Vegas casinos and resorts".

Fabulous noodle kugel — apples, cinnamon, eggs, cream, raisins and cottage cheese baked with flat noodles — struck a chord with Matt: "I know this very well, it's an old Jewish dessert, common throughout central Europe. It's a variation on lokshen pudding, although not as sweet."

In the tradition of comfort dishes, it was filling. But there's a problem. Between central Europe and Houston, via Las Vegas, someone decided the best topping for this venerable Jewish dish was crushed cornflakes. And in the Bush household, it's not a pudding: "Mrs Bush thinks the recipe is great served during brunch meals or as a side dish to complement beef tenderloin or roast leg of lamb."

So, misses and near hits in a meal confirming that the Bushes like bland, creamy food that is somewhat out of touch. Draw whatever dietary or political conclusions you want.                                              


* The Bush Family Cookbook (Lisa Drew Books) can be ordered via amazon.com. The price has already been halved to $US15 ($21.60).


- THE INDEPENDENT