Will AI Make Cookbooks Obsolete? A Retired Chef's View

I've been thinking a lot lately about my modest cookbook collection. A shelf or so of well-worn volumes, each one representing a different culinary phase: Forks Over Knives, The Complete Mediterranean Cookbook, The Essential Vegetarian Cookbook, Yotam Ottolenghi's work. Not an extensive library, but curated over 25+ years of pescatarian cooking. I'm starting to wonder if I'll ever open them again.

Not because I've stopped cooking. Quite the opposite, actually. Since retiring, I've been spending more time in the kitchen than I have in years. The difference is where I'm getting my recipes.

From Routine to Adventure

During my working years, cooking was often an afterthought. My wife and I went through distinct phases. Sometimes we'd cook regularly, batch-preparing meals for the week ahead. Other times, for months on end, we'd simply head down to our favorite local fish restaurant, split a whole fish and a bottle of wine at the bar. It became our ritual, a great way to connect each evening without the hassle of planning and preparing. Then there were the phases of what I'll charitably call "survival cooking," quick and easy dishes that got food on the table but didn't exactly inspire culinary passion.

Retirement changed everything. Suddenly I had time to actually enjoy the process. I started pulling out old favorites, reacquainting myself with the rhythms of the kitchen.

But then something unexpected happened.

The AI Kitchen Assistant

It started innocently enough. I asked an AI chatbot to help scale recipes down from four servings to two, a simple mathematical conversion. Then came the real breakthrough: using AI to rescue ingredients before they went bad. You know that moment when you see those tomatoes that have maybe one more day before they cross the line from "perfectly ripe" to "science experiment"? Instead of frantically Googling "recipes with tomatoes," I started describing what I had on hand and asking what I could make.

Then I got bolder. I took photos of the inside of our fridge and pantry and uploaded them. "What can I make with these ingredients?" The AI would analyze the image and suggest complete meals, often incorporating items I'd forgotten were tucked in the back. The results were spooky good. It was like having a professional chef peer into my kitchen and instantly create a personalized menu.

Beyond Recipe Modification

That success emboldened me to push further. I started asking for completely custom recipes based on whatever cuisine we were interested in exploring. "Create a Moroccan-inspired fish dish with ingredients commonly found in American supermarkets." Or "What's a West African approach to preparing cod?" Or "Give me a Peruvian-style meal that uses salmon and quinoa."

Over the past few months, I've probably made 25 AI-generated recipes from scratch. The success rate has been remarkable. I can only think of one recipe I wouldn't make again. Everything else has ranged from good to outstanding. One recipe in particular, a Hoisin-Glazed Salmon with Warm Tomato-Ginger Relish and Sesame Green Beans, earned five stars in my book (see the end of this post for the recipe). The AI even generated a beautiful image showing what the finished dish should look like, which helped me gauge whether I was on the right track during preparation.

The latest evolution has been using AI for dinner party planning. When we have friends over, I describe the group's dietary preferences, the season, and the vibe I'm going for, and ask AI to create a complete multi-course menu with wine pairings. It handles the logistics I used to agonize over: making sure flavors don't clash across courses, timing dishes so everything comes together, suggesting make-ahead options to reduce day-of stress. What used to require hours of cookbook flipping and online research now takes a conversation. The AI becomes a collaborative dinner party planner, and I've yet to have a menu that didn't work beautifully.

This is genuinely creative in ways that traditional cookbooks can't be. A cookbook is static, a snapshot of someone's culinary knowledge at a particular moment. AI is dynamic, adapting in real-time to my specific needs, ingredients, and preferences. It's like having a culinary school graduate who's memorized thousands of cookbooks standing in my kitchen, ready to create custom recipes on demand.

What Cookbooks Still Offer

Yet I find myself hesitating before declaring cookbooks obsolete.

The best cookbooks aren't just recipe collections. They're stories, cultural explorations, personal journeys. When I open Yotam Ottolenghi's books, I'm not just getting recipes. I'm getting his perspective on Middle Eastern cuisine, his philosophy about vegetables, his accumulated wisdom from years in professional kitchens. That context shapes how I think about cooking, even when I'm not following his recipes exactly.

AI can generate an excellent recipe. What it can't do is explain the cultural context, describe the Sunday dinners that shaped a chef's perspective, or share the failures and triumphs that led to each dish. That narrative dimension turns cooking from a mechanical process into cultural education.

The Real Question

There's a deeper question here: is cooking with AI-generated recipes actually cooking?

It reminds me of concerns raised when calculators became ubiquitous. Would students stop learning mathematics? The answer turned out to be more nuanced. Calculators eliminated tedious arithmetic, freeing students to focus on higher-level mathematical thinking.

Maybe something similar is happening in the kitchen. AI handles the mechanical aspects: ingredient ratios, cooking temperatures, timing. This frees me to focus on the creative aspects: flavor profiles, presentation, adaptation to personal taste.

The salmon dish I mentioned earlier? I didn't follow the AI's recipe verbatim. I adjusted the glaze sweetness, modified the ginger quantity based on my preferences, and played with the green bean timing. The AI gave me a framework; I made it mine.

That feels like cooking to me.

A Personal Verdict

Will I ever open a cookbook again? Probably. But much less frequently, and for different reasons.

I'll still reach for them when I need fundamentals or want inspiration from a particular chef's perspective. I'll value them as cultural documents. But for day-to-day cooking? For experimenting with new cuisines? For using what's in my fridge? AI has become my primary tool.

The most interesting part is how it's made me more creative, not less. I'm cooking more adventurously now than at any point in my life. I'm trying flavor combinations I never would have considered. I'm exploring cuisines I previously found intimidating.

My small shelf of cookbooks isn't going anywhere. They're part of my kitchen's history. But these days, they're sharing space with a new kind of tool, one that's fundamentally changing how I think about cooking.

And honestly? That salmon was really, really good.

The Recipe: Hoisin-Glazed Salmon with Warm Tomato-Ginger Relish and Sesame Green Beans

As promised, here's the AI-generated recipe that earned five stars:

Serves: 2–3
Total Time: 30 minutes

Ingredients

For the Salmon and Glaze:

2–3 salmon fillets (about 6 oz each)
1 Tbsp olive or avocado oil
2 Tbsp hoisin sauce
1 Tbsp soy sauce (or tamari for gluten-free)
1 tsp rice vinegar
1 tsp sesame oil
1 clove garlic, minced
½ tsp fresh ginger, grated

For the Warm Tomato-Ginger Relish:

2 medium vine-ripe tomatoes, diced
1 tsp olive oil
1 clove garlic, minced
½ tsp fresh ginger, grated
½ tsp rice vinegar
¼ tsp sesame oil
Salt and pepper to taste

For the Sesame Green Beans:

8 oz fresh green beans, trimmed
1 tsp sesame oil
1 tsp soy sauce
½ tsp rice vinegar
½ tsp honey or maple syrup
1 tsp sesame seeds

Instructions

Preheat oven to 400°F (200°C). Line a baking sheet with foil or parchment paper for easy cleanup.
Make the glaze: In a small bowl, combine hoisin sauce, soy sauce, rice vinegar, sesame oil, garlic, and ginger.
Prepare and bake the salmon: Pat salmon fillets dry and brush lightly with olive oil. Coat the tops evenly with the hoisin glaze. Bake for 10–12 minutes, or until the fish flakes easily with a fork and the glaze is glossy. (For extra caramelization, broil for 1–2 minutes at the end.)
Make the tomato-ginger relish: While the salmon bakes, heat olive oil in a small skillet over medium heat. Add garlic and ginger; sauté 30 seconds until fragrant. Stir in diced tomatoes and a pinch of salt. Cook 2–3 minutes, just until the juices release and thicken slightly. Remove from heat and stir in rice vinegar, sesame oil, and a few grinds of pepper.
Prepare the sesame green beans: In another pan, simmer green beans in a bit of water 3–4 minutes until tender-crisp. Drain and return to the pan. Toss with sesame oil, soy sauce, rice vinegar, honey, and sesame seeds. Cook 1 minute more to coat evenly.
Serve: Place salmon on plates, spoon warm tomato-ginger relish over the top, and serve alongside sesame green beans. Drizzle any extra glaze or relish juices over the plate for added flavor.

Chef's Notes

Add a sprinkle of chopped green onions or fresh cilantro for color.
The relish also works beautifully over grilled shrimp or tofu.
Serve with jasmine rice or quinoa for a complete meal.