BOOK REVIEW : Get Real, Jacques : Economique, <i> By Jacques Pepin (William Morrow: $22; 260 pp.)</i>

I have discarded opening paragraphs like so many outer leaves of romaine. I have tried a tortured analogy between Giorgio Armani’s T-shirts and Jacques Pepin’s attempt at proletarian cuisine. I have talked about the new austerity of the 1990s. You can read all about it in my wastebasket or my computer’s clogged memory.

The problem is that this cookbook presents a unique, elusive challenge to anyone who is trying to write about it. What Pepin wants to do is clear enough: He wants to dish up 120 economical recipes that taste great and don’t take too much time, which sounds like just the sort of cookbook that every overworked, underfed modern adult would like to have.

I was eager, since I am, of necessity, a self-taught expert on the half-hour stove-to-table dinner. The first menu sounded promising, since it was based on turkey, which I love. The concept made sense. Rather than spend extra money on turkey parts, just buy the whole bird and use all of it for a tasty selection of dishes.

But the further I read, the more overwhelming the task seemed. I was supposed to cut off the turkey wings for one dish, separate the breasts from the carcass for another, use the legs for a fricasee and then make stock with the bones.

In practical terms, that meant either that my family would be eating turkey for a solid week--not a delightful idea, no matter how many different costumes it wore--or that I would have to freeze my home-butchered turkey parts and use them at a later date. No problem there, since I happen to have saved an old article from the Atlantic about the best ways to freeze food. But wouldn’t this have been the perfect moment for Pepin to speak to the masses about freezer technique?

And to make sure that my frustration congealed into crankiness, the tastiest-sounding dish, the fricasee of dark turkey meat, called for turkey legs cut into five pieces--two from the drumstick and three from the thigh. I read and reread. On the bone or off? It wasn’t clear. Perhaps if I were a master of the fricasee I would know. But I’m not--and, I’m willing to bet, neither are a lot of people who need a book like this.

I don’t want you to turn away. There are some wonderful recipes in this book. The baked chicken with herb crumbs is an incredibly moist, skinless alternative to yet another roast chicken, and it takes little time and less attention. (Yes, he then takes the devil skin and suggests cooking it on a baking sheet until it is an irresistibly crunchy little heart-stopper of a snack. No, he does not mention that in the process the fat runs off and smokes up the oven like crazy. Resist him.)

The tomatoes Provencal, especially in high tomato season, are terrific--briefly cooked and topped with finely chopped garlic and parsley--a mixture that Pepin calls by its French name, persillade. I would argue that a number of people in Pepin’s target demographic group don’t know what a persillade is and shouldn’t feel embarrassed to admit it. That’s another slight example of the gap between the author’s intent and his execution.

The recipe that got the most enthusiastic response from my test panel was the corn tempura, which was nothing more than fresh corn, cut off the cob and cooked in a simple batter. The adults who tried it wanted only some kind of spicy salsa to accompany their second helping. It was a good idea, a nice polish for a very basic dish. The next night, spurred by my success, I took Pepin’s “special tip” and added other vegetables--grated zucchini and carrots--and watched another batch disappear.

But I wanted more. I wanted a context within which I could learn a truly economical cuisine. There are lovely recipes here, and sound ideas, but not enough follow-through. For the details, you have to go to other books. The indispensable seasonal calendar that really helps a cook to shop economically is in “The Chez Panisse Cookbook.” The variations on a theme (what to do with yet another chicken, how to spruce up a turkey) are in Julia Child’s “The Way To Cook.”

Pepin works from the individual recipe down, rather than starting with basics and working up to specific dishes. That means that all but the most accomplished cooks are tied to what they read. In “Cuisine Economique” Pepin keeps one foot firmly rooted in his classier past, but the fundamentals that would really liberate a cook, that would form the basis of a new kitchen philosophy and save the book from being just a collection of pleasant recipes are missing.