The publication of Claude Monet's cookery notebooks reveals the father of Impressionism as a tyrannical gourmet who could fly into a rage over a sauce. ``Monet's Cookery Notebooks,'' by Claire Joyes and published recently by Editions du Chene, is a delightful look at the private life of the man who immortalized haystacks in the haze and water lilies floating under a quaint Japanese footbridge. The book is to be published in the United States in the spring by Prentice Hall. A must for art buffs and food lovers alike, Monet's cookbook _ with recipes tested and adapted by award-winning chef Joel Robuchon _ is an authentic record taken from family notes. Like a social and cultural chronicle of the half century Monet spent at his Normandy country home in Giverny from 1883 to 1926, the notebooks detail Monet's likes and dislikes, what he served to his friends and what his second wife Alice had prepared for their eight children (two were his, six were hers) on ordinary days and holidays. It even tells how tables were set for picnics. Joyes, an art historian, found the handwritten notebooks tucked among letters, photographs and other Monet archives inherited by her husband, Jean-Marie Toulgouat, a great-grandson of Alice Hoschede Monet. ``Claire was the storyteller, Jean-Marie had the memory,'' said Benedicte Servignat, Joyes' editor at Chene. ``He never knew Monet, but he spent all his childhood vacations at the Giverny farmhouse and remembered the cook Marguerite and, of course, Monet's step-daughter Blanche, who carried on all the culinary traditions after Monet's death.'' Toulgouat, an artist, and Joyes live in the village of Giverny, near Vernon, but have nothing to do with Monet's renovated farmhouse, now open to the public as a museum. Monet was a solid, middle-class bon vivant, but his daily routine was strictly regimented and it revolved totally around painting. He rose before dawn to capture the variations of early morning light, took a cold shower and breakfasted English-style _ on eggs and bacon, grilled tripe sausages and cheese, toast and orange marmelade. He would spend the morning working on his studio-boat with Blanche, also an artist. Back by 11 a.m., they were ravenous and impatient to sit down to lunch. Joyes decribed Monet as ``a demon for punctuality. A first, then a second stroke of the gong would assemble the scattered family in the dining room for lunch, which was served at 11:30 precisely. Monet would cough irritably on the very half second, causing panic in the kitchen,'' she wrote. Lunch invariably was a five-course extravaganza, which included a fish course, meat dish, salad, cheese, a different homebaked dessert every day and cakes at 4 p.m. _ all prepared by the family cook Marguerite. Monet never lingered over his food. Service had to be quick so he could get back to work. He even ordered servants never to pass dishes around twice when his American stepson-in-law Theodore Butler was lunching with them since Butler's slow eating habits drove Monet mad. Lunch was a social affair, often with guests. Tea was served under the lime trees, always at 4:00. Friends were never invited for dinner because Monet was always in bed by 9:30. The uninvited, even close friends, were politely turned away. Though Alice ran the house, she consulted Monet in planning menus, which revolved around the fruit and vegetables in season and which catered to the special tastes of a roster of illustrious guests like Renoir, Cezanne and Premier Georges Clemenceau, who loved the waterlilies. Monet and his family arrived in Giverny in May in 1883. Despite their precarious financial situation, they immediately set about renovating the kitchen and landscaping the wild gardens which sloped gently down to wide meadows and a small pond. Monet was obssessed with order in his flower gardens, but he was fanatical about the picking schedule of his fruit and vegetables grown and nurtured in a 2{-acre walled kitchen garden on the other side of the town. Constantly looking to expand and improve an impressive array of herbs and vegetables, he would spend evenings leafing through scholarly publications to find new seeds to test in the rich and often wet Norman soil. Joyes described Monet as equally fanatical about the poultry he was served, spending an ``inordinate amount of time choosing ducks and hens to be used for breeding stock.'' He just didn't trust local farmers.
