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If you’re looking for bran muffins fit for an heiress, Bert Greene’s got you covered.

My father gave me my first Bert Greene cookbook, “Greene on Greens,” back in the mid-eighties. I’m pretty sure this was the result of his forgetting to send in the postcard rejecting his book club’s selection of the month, but my dad isn’t one to look a “gift” book in the mouth, so he passed it along to me.

Even as a youth, I knew this book was something special. It’s not just the butter and bacon fat that Greene slathers on everything. And it’s not only the amazing breadth of vegetables covered — from artichokes to zucchini with fennel, kohlrabi, and rutabagas in-between —  you name it, Greene has a brilliant preparation.

All this is enough for a good cookbook, but Greene’s stories are what make this a great cookbook. Greene thoughtfully expounds on how the French writer Colette inspired his love of provincial cookery, among other things, in the celery chapter. He tells a sweet story about introducing his mother to the avocado. All the while, he is chatty and entertaining and incredibly knowledgeable about how to make everything taste good.

One of my favorite recipes in “Greene on Greens” is his Tomato Devil’s Food Cake with Tomato Butter Cream Frosting. I’m always drawn to unusual combinations and the tomatoes lend a subtle and mysterious sweetness to this dessert.

Great Grains

I found Greene’s “The Grains Cookbook” years later in a used bookshop, and it’s just as entertaining. Published just after Green passed away in 1988, it opens with memories of Greene from the likes of Julia Child and M.F.K .Fisher.

I’ve been leafing through this book lately, and the Kiddo actually asked me to read him the chapter on barley the other night. It was informative and full of great stories and tasty-sounding recipes. I was inspired to try my hand at making Chollent, a pot roast with beans and barley, and everyone around here seemed to enjoy the results.

I was inspired to share my love of Greene with you all when I cracked open the bran chapter and was treated to Bert’s tale of his pursuit of the “madcap heiress” and bran enthusiast Peggy Guggenheim. He sums up their post-WWII parting thusly: “My involvement with Peggy was short and sweet, terminated by mutual disinterest. And her decision to leave America once the armistice was signed to open a new gallery in Venice – Palazzo Venier dei Leoni.”

As a parting gift, Guggenheim had planned to leave Greene a large Jackson Pollock painting. Greene was horrified at the thought because he “never truly appreciated Pollock’s style (and he was far from famous at the time).” So he suggested she send along a dozen oxford-cloth Brooks Brothers shirts instead.

His offering to Guggenheim? Six dozen bran muffins for her journey.

Kitchen Credentials

In the 60s and 70s, Greene ran one of the first gourmet takeout stores in the country. “The Store” in Amagansett supplied salads, pates, and mousses for summer parties, and inspired Greene’s first cookbook. He went on to write several more cookbooks as well as a syndicated food column that was later collected in a book.

Greene didn’t write only about food – he was also a playwright. He adapted “The Trial” by Franz Kafka, “Daisy Miller” by Henry James, and “My Mother`s House” by Colette into theatrical productions.

The International Association of Culinary Professionals continues to celebrate Greene’s legacy of great writing and great recipes with the annual Bert Greene Awards for food journalism.

Greene’s books are out of print, but you can still find used copies pretty easily. If you’re looking for a good read and a steady kitchen companion, I’d recommend giving Bert a try.