Who is Anna Jones? Anna Jones is an award-winning cook, food writer and pioneer of modern plant based food. She celebrates the joys of food – with vegetables firmly placed at the centre of the table. In recent years her books have taken a bolder stance on sustainability. In her fourth cookbook One: Pot, Pan, Planet (2021) she dedicatedsome chapters to educating readers on how to become more eco-friendly. Her recipes take simple, often side-lined, ingredients and transform them into innovative and exciting dishes inspired by cuisines from around the world.
What is Easy Wins’ USP? Based around 12 hero ingredients (lemons, olive oil, vinegar, mustard, tomatoes, capers, chilli, tahini, garlic, onions, miso and peanuts), Easy Wins promises 125 simple, seasonal, recipes to help you create delicious, veg-centred, dishes all year round.
As Jones explains in theintroduction: ‘Simple ingredients, when shown a little bit of love and attention, come together to make more than the sum of their parts. This to me is an Easy Win. A little moment of kitchen alchemy that reassures me. Recipes that are reliable sources of joy in a world that is ever changing.’
What will I love? A lot. This is a beautiful book full of stunning photography and enticing, ‘cookable’, recipes for every mood and occasion. Jones has made a concerted effort to utilise lesser-known ingredients in several recipes. Instead of asking the reader to buy a whole jar or pot of something only to leave it lingering in the cupboard after one outing, she gives multiple ideas for how to use it up.
Nearly every recipe is accompanied by a photograph which helps give a visual guide for those who like to see what the final dish looks like. Each beautifully shot images manages to be both striking and achievable at the same time.
Flexibility is a running theme of the book; many of the recipes can be adapted for vegans and there are explanations on how to successfully swap ingredients, while still producing a delicious result. Jones includes invaluable advice on how to use flavour and texture to enhance any dish and take your cooking to the next level.
Is it good bedtime reading? If you are interested in seasonality, eating more sustainably, and learning more about how to make the most out of every meal, then hell yes. There is a personal, heartfelt introduction, followed by ‘Golden Rules for Easy Wins’ and informative guides to ‘Planet-friendly Cooking’ and ‘Salt and Seasoning’. There’s also interesting and useful advice on ‘Vegetarian Flavour Swaps’, ‘How to Cook Flexibly’, ‘Layering Flavour’ and ‘Layering Texture’. The ‘Vegetarian Flavour Swaps’ pages are particularly helpful for those looking to incorporate more meat-free dishes into their diet, with paragraph per recommendation to explain why it works, instead of merely offering a bullet-pointed list.
Each chapter begins with a mini-homage to its hero ingredient, followed by information on different types, complimentary flavours, storage tips and which varieties to buy; useful for experimenting with new recipes even beyond Jones’s book. Sections on ‘Herbs’ and ‘Spices’ provide handy information on flavour profiles, origins, flavour pairings, recommended uses and substitutions.
Will I have trouble finding the ingredients? Some ingredients, like Amalfi lemons, can be tricky (or expensive) to get hold of, but Jones has gone out of her way to offer advice on substitutions as much as possible.
How easy are the recipes to follow? Very. Ingredient quantities are listed in the recipe as well as in the ingredient list so you can keep track as you go along. Admittedly there is the usual ‘juice of a lemon’ instead of a specified quantity, but one of the aims of the book is to encourage you to become a more intuitive cook and taste as you go along. The introductions are also genuinely helpful and full of useful anecdotes about each recipe – as well as advice on how to adjust them with seasonal ingredients.
Stand-out recipes? Where to start? One Pot Pasta al Limone (an ingenious dish which relies on the starchy pasta cooking water to make a creamy, zesty pasta sauce), Double Lemon Pilaf with Buttery Almonds (a sublime combination of taste and texture – worth making for the buttery almonds alone), Double Lemon Cake with Streusel Topping (deliciously moist and refreshing – perfect for pudding or with coffee), Cheese and Pickle Roast Potatoes with Chilli-dressed Leaves (a must-try recipe for anyone who likes big flavours), Chipotle Aubergine Parmigiana (wonderfully smoky and cheesy – can also be made vegan-friendly), Confit Garlic Cauliflower Cheese (a decadent side dish for a special occasion), Lemongrass Dal with Garlic and Curry Leaves (subtly spiced, aromatic and soothing – comfort in a bowl), Miso Rarebit with Asian Herbs (an umami-packed twist on the classic – sure to become a firm favourite) and Peanut Butter Chocolate Chip Cookies (gooey, chocolatey and simply one of the best cookie recipes I have ever made).
How often will I cook from this book? Keen cooks will find themselves reaching for the book on a regular basis due to the variety of recipes suitable for every occasion. Think mezze sharing dishes like Smoky Aubergines with Tahini and Spiced Tomatoes, easy lunches like Sesame and Chilli Oil Noodles, flavour-packed sides including Corn on the Cob with Caper and Herb Crumbs, simple suppers like Traybake Lemon Dal with Pickled Green Chillies, quick desserts like Miso Banana Caramel Whip (ready in 15 minutes!), comforting cakes like the Double Ginger Cake with Lemon Crème Fraiche, and beautiful breads like Olia’s Pampushky (a garlic and parsley Ukrainian bread traditionally served with borscht).
Any negatives? This is a plant-based book so a passionate meat eater may feel it’s not for them. However, it’s a testament to Jones’ skill and creativity that none of the recipes feel incomplete due to the lack of meat. In fact, many work as side dishes that could be served alongside meat.
Should I buy the book? A resounding ‘yes’. Easy Wins is one of those cookbooks that you will find yourself returning to again and again – not just for the recipes, but for the culinary advice. Jones writes with genuine passion and this book feels very personal. Her style is considered, almost conversational; encouraging, never dictatorial. Sustainability-focused cookbooks can be a bit too unattainable, but Easy Wins feels realistic and achievable. This is a guide to Jones’ approach to cooking and one that aims to provide you with the tools to build on the recipes, make them your own and become a more confident, sustainable, cook.
Cuisine: Plant based Suitable for: Confident cooks and those who enjoy exploring different tastes, textures and cuisines – and have an interest in broadening their plant based recipe repertoire
Great for fans of: Claire Thomson (5 o’clock apron) and Meera Sodha Cookbook review rating: Five stars Buy this book: Easy Wins by Anna Jones £28, Fourth Estate
This review was written by Freelance Food Writer and Recipe Developer Sophie Knox Richmond. Follow her on Instagram on @sophie_kr_food.
Dear reader of cookbookreview.blog, I have a confession. I’m not that into ramen. I know this isn’t a universally shared opinion but I’ve never had a bowl of ramen that has inspired the awe it’s meant to. The kind that true devotees hunch over steaming bowls of broth like medieval alchemists and whisper in hushed reverence about the exact marination time for soy eggs.
Not that Ramen: 80 Easy Noodle Bowls and Broths was designed to convince this particular chump of the virtues of a globally loved dish but Makiko Sano does present a compelling argument in a punchy, colourful and enlightening book. Although between her other cookbooks, a Japanese restaurant, sushi school and catering company I don’t think she was expecting to add “unwitting couples counsellor” between ramen and I to her overflowing CV.
The book opens with an unexpectedly fascinating history of ramen, one of innovation through necessity, clandestine noodle traders and a burst in popularity in the years after World War II. To co-opt a saying: when life gives you an abundance of wheat flour in postwar aid shipments and the worst rice harvest in decades, make ramen. Due to its inherent versatility and Momofuku Ando’s instant ramen noodles, we now have infinite versions of the noodley, soupy thing we’re all familiar with across the globe.
As Sano details, traditional ramen follows four building blocks: a highly seasoned sauce, the tare, which forms a base layer upon which the second element, the broth, is poured over. The noodles follow and finally a variety of toppings layered on top. I am always appreciative of a cookbook that teaches not only what to cook but how to cook and in theory, you could go no further than here. Make the classic tares, broths and tinker with the recommended toppings list forevermore.
However life is for living and after these more traditional dishes follow a number of varied, sometimes weird, sometimes wonderful but always easy ramen recipes. It’s a fun book to flick through. Bright, well organised and recipes that are incredibly concise with a succinct historical context or introduction. Many of the basic Japanese ingredients won’t be hard to come by but a trip will be needed to an international supermarket or online stockist for ingredients like bonito flakes, nori and saké.
Despite being variations on the same theme, there’s admirable scope. The chapters are arranged by protein, vegetables and a final “Instant Ramen Plus” chapter, an anything goes section that feels like the last day of school, sticking twos up at the Head of Geography, breaking into food tech and concocting a ramen of tinned hotdogs and cheese.
While that last dish wasn’t for me, there are plenty that were. The Vegetable Garden Ramen, various vegetables floating atop a white broth made with soy milk and the Mushroom Miso Ramen were two of my favourites, both eaten when feeling a little under the weather and warming me from the ground up. Another highlight was the Chilli Miso Ramen and delicious as it was, it helps to have a pack of tissues nearby if you inadvertently double the amount of gochujang paste. The Tahini Ramen (made better with its Japanese cousin neri goma if you can get it) was rich and nutty and only slightly less morish than the Coconut Curry Ramen.
Much of the complexity of flavour in ramen and the time taken making it comes from the broth. However much of the ease in this book relies on using a broth made from stock granules. The book does help you to make your own and I would encourage you to do so. It’s an easy kitchen task: plonk meat or vegetable gubbins in a pot of boiling water, leave for a bit, strain then freeze in smaller portions. Failing that, buy the best stock you can afford in gelatinous pots or pre-made pouches. Without it, the simpler recipes become more reminiscent of drinking Oxo with a few ingredients chucked in.
The scope of the book means it’s easy to find something to appreciate. Ramen newbies will have the most joy as Sano removes much of the complexity of the dish in an endearing and uncomplicated way. I’m yet to be converted to a ramen fanatic but I appreciate the endeavour. Perhaps by the time I’ve cooked all eighty, I’ll see the light.
Cuisine: Japanese Suitable for: Beginners Cookbook Review Rating: Four stars
It doesn’t take a genius to work out that there is often a great void between the chef and the home cook. Though both are creating dishes for consumption, the context, methods, and sheer scale of their work differs tremendously. The same considerations should be made when a professional chef – particularly those operating in fine dining environments – write a cookbook.
It’s something I regrettably neglected to aptly reflect on when I reviewed Niklas Ekstedt’s ridiculously lavish entry into the canon a few years ago. How can I, a home cook in urban Britain, be expected to source reindeer hearts, I asked. I don’t even have an Ikea food hall near me.
But, of course, I wasn’t the intended audience. Ekstedt didn’t expect me, of all people, to knock up one of his many dishes that called for the cook to first gather their hay. Hell, he didn’t even expect most of the chefs who bought the book to build a fire from dried grass on his behalf. Most cookbooks by acclaimed chefs are about the theory of cooking as much as they are about the cooking itself. About sharing gastronomical philosophies, flavour combinations, and mutually revelling in what it means to get excited about presenting these bold, delicious ideas for others to taste.
Which is what makes two recent Korean cookbooks so interesting. Both Sohn-mat and The Korean Cookbook have been written by professional chefs with acclaimed restaurants to their name, and both books are aimed specifically at audiences looking to bring Korean flavours into their homes. The challenge here, then, is for the authors to translate their professional interest in cooking into a language that is relevant for domestic kitchens.
Monica Lee, the writer behind Sohn-mat, has a definite head start in this process. Lee was, before she opened her much-loved restaurant Beverly Soon Tofu in LA, a home cook with a small but very loyal fanbase of friends and family. Amongst the many Korean dishes she would recreate in her kitchen was the soon tofu chigae that she eventually became famous for.
Lee’s restaurant, opened in 1986, was entirely focused on this relatively low-key dish – a nutritious bowl normally associated with affordable diners in Korea. Beverly Soon Tofu closed in the midst of the pandemic, and Lee’s book is its legacy; her way of connecting with people one more time, and empowering them to create the food she served for over three decades.
In a move that feels spiritually aligned with the cookbooks of Michelin-starred chefs, most of the first eighty pages of Sohn-mat are dedicated wholly to recreating this dish. This means in-depth looks at the sourcing and handling of ttukbaegi – the clay pot Lee served her custardy tofu in. There are tips on ingredients and methodology, and no less than twenty-two recipes for components and variations so that the reader can recreate soon tofu chigae at home exactly the way they like it best.
Though Lee goes to lengths to make these recipes accessible, and considers almost every obstacle a home cook might come up against, the approach can feel a little overwhelming. To serve up a by-the-book version of the restaurant’s popular Combination Soon Tofu, home cooks will need to commit to making a beef broth from scratch, as well as preparing marinated short rib trimmings, and a seasoned red pepper paste that requires a day’s rest in the fridge before use. It’s not impossible by any means, but it does put the dish firmly into the ‘best saved for the weekend category’.
Beyond soon tofu chigae, Lee offers a wide ranging look at other Korean dishes. Starting with banchan – side dishes served alongside rice – we are presented with plenty of bright vegetable dishes and a select few for carnivores (who are given a much broader selection to choose from in a later section of sharing platters).
Lee’s recipes tend to be relatively wordy and this, combined with ingredients lists that feature those extra recipes to prepare in advance, can make the dishes look like a lot of work. And look, it’s a busy book – filled to the brim with tips and adjustments for different dietary needs – but the dishes are usually easier than they look. Those preparatory recipes only exist because Lee has offered DIY options for ingredients you can just buy off the shelf if you need. Save yourself the time and use standard soy sauce instead of Lee’s seasoned version, or any garlic you like, instead of her pre-blended take. If Sohn-mat has any real flaw, it is not that it is too difficult for home cooks – but rather that the writing and design makes everything look like a lot more effort than it really is.
Offering an even broader look at Korean cuisine is Phaidon’s The Korean Cookbook, written by Junghyun Park and Jungyoon Choi. Park is best known for Atomix, which was this year named the 8th best restaurant in the world by World’s 50 Best Restaurants. It’s one of four Korean-oriented restaurants he runs in New York, which puts him very much at the high-end of chefs-turned-writers. His co-author Choi is a research and development chef for Sempio Foods and – not that I’m claiming any foul play – Academy Vice Chair of Korea & China at World’s 50 Best Restaurants.
The Korean Cookbook is the latest entry in Phaidon’s ongoing mission to publish the definitive tome for any cuisine you care to imagine. The series always has its strengths and weaknesses, which we’ve covered overtheyears here. Historically, one of the series’ biggest issues has been a lack of context for the dishes presented. Here, thankfully, we see perhaps the most in-depth look at a cuisine that Phaidon have yet offered readers. Park and Choi offer an extensive forty-page introductory section exploring the concept of hansik, or Korean cuisine. There are also useful introduction to chapters on fermentation, and the different components that make up a meal in Korea. Perhaps most importantly – and frequently missing in older entries to the series, each recipe is given vital context.
The grand scope of the book means that there are over 350 recipes to choose from. Readers can be certain that any Korean dish they already know and want to recreate will be here – there are two options for the nation’s distinctive take on fried chicken, and three for bulgogi. But the joy is in discovering the unexpected, and there are plenty of exciting new ideas here for readers to explore, from Pan-Roasted Acorn Jelly to Ray with Bean Sprout Jjim and Yuja (Yuzu) Punch.
There are, as is often the case with Phaidon’s books, a large number of cases where audiences not actually based in Korea will struggle to source ingredients. Even the best stocked Asian supermarket is unlikely to provide stonecrop. Of course, this authenticity is what readers come to the series for. But sometimes it feels as though it goes too far – so much of this book is celebrating home cooking, but the authors make no effort to offer advice on substituting hard-to-find ingredients.
This is a particular shame for those looking to recreate those iconic dishes – both The Korean Cookbook and Sohn-Mat are all too keen to include pre-mixed cooking powders in their recipes. Park and Choi use a store-bought seasoned flour mix for both fried chicken recipes, but offer no DIY substitute. The jeon (pancake) recipes across the books almost all call for ‘Korean pancake mix’ but, again, offer no substitute. In offering an authentic view of Korean home cooking, The Korean Cookbook is a success. In making the dishes universally accessible, less so.
But then, do people come to cookbooks that explore other cuisines expecting the author to present every dish as a simple half-hour recipe? It takes millennia to form the way a nation eats – The Korean Cookbook offers a potted history that starts in the neolithic period. It shouldn’t be a matter of rocking up at the tail end of this evolution and demanding simple translations. And, frankly, if that is what you’re looking for, we’re probably only six months out from a six-part BBC2 series and accompanying book: Rick Stein’s Korea.
For now we should relish that we are being offered so many nuanced, informative takes on one of the most unique and flavour-filled cuisines in the world. Time to move beyond bulgogi, and get into the real heart of Korean cooking.
Cuisine: Korean Suitable for: Confident home cooks Cookbook Review Rating: Four stars/Four stars
I tried making these meatballs with minced pork but they were too dry, so I think they are much better made with good-quality sausage meat, by which I mean at least 90 per cent pork. A lot of the brands of tomato passata with flavourings are not to my taste, but the Napolina soffritto is just tomato, garlic, onion and celery.
SERVES 4
400g premium pork sausages, skins removed and discarded
¾ tsp fennel seeds, coarsely ground
¼ tsp chilli flakes
4 tbsp olive oil
250g orzo
3 garlic cloves, chopped
60ml white wine
400ml soffritto passata (I like Napolina)
1 rosemary sprig
Salt and black pepper
To serve
Parmesan, grated
Basil leaves, torn
Mix the sausage meat, fennel seeds and chilli flakes in a bowl and shape into balls about the size of cherry tomatoes.
Heat 2 tablespoons of the oil in a shallow casserole dish or a large pan with a lid and fry the meatballs until lightly browned all over. Transfer them to a plate and set aside.
Add the remaining oil to the pan, add the orzo and fry for a couple of minutes. Add the garlic and fry for a minute, then pour in the wine and bring to the boil. Add the passata and 650ml of water, season and bring to the boil again. Turn the heat down to a simmer and cook for 2–3 minutes.
Add the meatballs and rosemary, season with salt and pepper, then cover the pan with a lid and leave to simmer for about 10 minutes. Remove the lid and cook for a final couple of minutes until the pasta is done and the sauce is thickened.
Serve with plenty of freshly grated Parmesan cheese and torn basil leaves.
Extracted from Rick Stein’s Simple Suppers (BBC Books, £28). Photography by James Murphy Cook more from this book
What’s the USP? A Michelin-starred chef eschews the involved methods and techniques of the professional kitchen and shares his favourite (but not always) simple recipes from home that he cooks for family and friends.
Who’s the author? Michel Roux Jr is restaurant royalty, son of the legendary Albert Roux, father of Emily (who runs the acclaimed London restaurant Caractère). At the time of writing, he is chef/patron of legendary two Michelin-starred Mayfair restaurant Le Gavroche which is due to close in January 2024. He remains head of food and beverage at The Langham hotel in London. He is a regular on TV shows like Saturday Kitchen and has written eight previous cookbooks including The French Revolution.
Is it good bedtime reading? A five page intro and succinct recipe introductions and that’s your lot. Best keep the latest Richard Osman handy.
How much difficulty will I have getting hold of ingredients? You will need a decent butcher to mince some pork fat for you if you’re going to make the delicious sounding venison turnovers (and you could buy the venison leg or shoulder you’ll need while you are there, although you can get it from some supermarkets too), lamb merguez sausages to serve with red rice and herb pesto, pigs trotters and ears to serve with boned and rolled pork shoulder, and the various meaty elements of a game pate or a terrine made with rabbit and green ham hock.
A good cheesemonger or online supplier will probably be required for the Fleur de Maquis or Berkswell cheese for an omelette with mushrooms, parsley and sheep cheese or the Mimolette required for a chicory tart recipe. Your local greengrocer might have dandelion leaves for a salad made with potatoes, bacon and quince vinegar (good luck finding that, although you can substitute the good old cider variety) but you will have to get your wellies on and go foraging for the nettles for a chilled soup with radish tops. If you are in the UK, you can get cod cheeks from The Fish Society to roast and serve with a watercress salad, a whole sea bass to roast with vegetables or a whole sea bream to bake in a salt crust. What they won’t sell you is the smoked eel required for a canape with beetroot and horseradish cream as it’s now considered a critically endangered species.
Although that might seem like a long list, the book is mainly full of recipes with easily accessible ingredients, as demonstrated by the following list of killer recipes.
Killer recipes? Cauliflower and broccoli gratin with Comte cheese; courgette gratin; sausage, pea and potato casserole; barbecued chicken with summer salad; potato and sweetcorn waffles with bacon crumb; prawn French toast with walnut and coriander pesto; linguine with olives, artichokes, sundried tomatoes and herbs; blackberry and apple mille-feuiiles.
How annoyingly vague are the recipes? For the most part, the recipes are specific when you want them to be. For example, the lovely cauliflower and broccoli gratin recipe gives weight indications for both the main ingredients which is extremely helpful given that cauliflowers range from golf ball to beach ball in size (I’m exaggerating for effect, but not much). Elsewhere, however, things are more hazy, with a ‘bunch of asparagus and a ‘bunch’ of spring onions for a barbecued lamb steak recipe. Both of course as sold in bunches, but the number (and weight) of asparagus spears and spring onions in any given bunch can vary wildly. This is a minor niggle, as cooking from the book has been a pleasure, with clear, easy to follow methods and delicious results.
What will I love? With chapters including Breakfast and brunch, quick lunches, simple suppers for two, meals for family and friends, sweet finish, family celebrations at home and kitchen basics, it’s quick and easy to choose a recipe appropriate to your needs on any given occasion. There’s a huge variety of dishes, from simple sweetcorn soup to the more challenging game pate as well as dishes such as pork steaks with summer vegetables that would make a great mid-week meal.
Should I buy it? There’s still a fair amount of Michel Roux the two-star chef in the book with some fairly time consuming preparations and ingredients that are everyday to the French but more challenging for us Brits to get our hands on. That said, there is much to inspire keen home cooks into the kitchen and dishes that you won’t find in your average TV chef’s cookbook, so it’s a hearty ‘Oui chef’ from us.
Cuisine: French Suitable for: confident home cooks Cookbook Review Rating: Four stars
A really special brunch dish, this is my French take on Chinese prawn toast. These are hearty sandwiches, so if you’re serving them as part of a brunch buffet, just a half will be enough – unless you’re not planning to eat again until the evening! The walnut and coriander pesto makes a nice change from the usual basil version. The recipe makes more than you need for the sandwiches, but the pesto keeps well in the fridge for a week and is delicious with pasta.
Makes four sandwiches
450g peeled raw prawns
3 tbsp vegetable oil
3 free-range egg whites
3 free-range eggs
3 tbsp whole milk
Grating of nutmeg
8 slices of sourdough bread
Vegetable oil, for frying
1 tsp red chilli flakes,
to serve (optional)
Salt and black pepper
Walnut & coriander pesto
60g walnuts
Big bunch of coriander
(about 120g),
roughly chopped
1 garlic clove,
roughly chopped
1 tbsp grated Parmesan
1 green chilli roughly
chopped, seeds removed
6 tbsp olive oil
Salt
First, make the pesto. Put the walnuts, chopped coriander, garlic, Parmesan, chilli and olive oil into a blender and blitz to make a smooth mixture. Season with salt.
Put the prawns in a food processor with the oil and egg whites and season with salt and pepper. Blitz until smooth.
Beat the whole eggs with the milk in a bowl and season with salt, pepper and a grating of nutmeg, then set aside.
Divide the prawn mixture between 4 of the slices of bread, spreading it evenly, then top with the remaining slices. Cut the sandwiches in half, then dip each half into the egg mixture.
Pour some oil into a frying pan to a depth of about 1cm and heat. Shallow-fry the sandwiches, a few halves at a time, turning them until golden on all sides – this will take about 4 minutes in total. Drain the sandwiches on kitchen paper, then keep them warm in a low oven while you cook the rest.
Cut the sandwiches in half or into bite-sized pieces. Serve warm with the pesto and sprinkle a few chilli flakes on top if you want your sandwich to have a bit of a kick.
Tarte tatin de legumes Here we have a great French classic made into a vegetarian treat. I’ve suggested a selection of vegetables, but you can vary them according to the season and spice them up with more chilli if you like a bit of heat. Delicious as a main meal or as an accompaniment, this can be made in individual portions as well as a large tart. It’s fine to use shop-bought puff pastry – I do!
Serves four
3 small heads of red chicory
3 small heads of yellow chicory
200g slender carrots,
halved lengthways
300g kohlrabi, cut into batons
100g cauliflower florets or
sprouting broccoli, halved
1 large onion, cut into wedges
2 tbsp olive oil
2 tbsp butter
2 tbsp caster sugar
1 red chilli, deseeded
and sliced
leaves from 1 thyme sprig
350g puff pastry
Flour, for dusting
Salt and black pepper
Preheat the oven to 220°C/Fan 200°C/Gas 7. Cut the heads of chicory in half (or if they are large, into quarters) and put them in a bowl with the other vegetables. Add the oil and toss,
then season with salt and black pepper. Spread the vegetables over a baking tray and roast them in the oven for 8–10 minutes. The vegetables should be partly cooked and have a little colour.
Melt the butter in a large (28cm) ovenproof frying pan, then sprinkle over the sugar. Place the cooked vegetables, sliced chilli and thyme on top, making sure to pack the vegetables tightly.
Roll out the pastry on a floured work surface to 3mm thick. Place the pastry over the vegetables, tucking it in around the edges. Make a few holes in the pastry with the point of a knife, then bake for 20 minutes. Leave to cool a little, then place a plate over the pan and carefully turn the pan over to invert the tart on to the plate. Serve warm.
Serves four
4 oranges
250g crème pâtissière
(see p.238)
6 free-range egg whites
Pinch of sugar
50ml Grand Marnier
20g icing sugar,
for dusting
Pancakes
1 free-range egg
75g plain flour
1 tbsp caster sugar
Pinch of salt
210ml milk
1 tbsp clarified butter
This show-stopping dessert was one of my Uncle Michel’s favourites.
First make the pancake batter. Beat the egg in a bowl, then whisk in the flour a little at a time. Add the sugar and salt and mix well with a whisk. Stir in the milk to make a smooth batter, then leave it to rest in a cool place for at least an hour. To cook, brush a frying pan or crêpe pan with a little of the clarified butter and heat. Ladle in less than a quarter of the batter and cook the pancake for 1 or 2 minutes on each side, turning it with a palette knife. You should get 4 or 5 pancakes.
Segment 2 of the oranges (see page 86) and squeeze all the membranes into a pan to extract any juice. Add the juice of the other 2 oranges to the pan. Place over a low heat and reduce by half, then strain into a bowl and set aside at room temperature.
Put the crème pâtissière in a bowl, place it over a pan of simmering water and heat gently. Meanwhile, beat the egg whites with a pinch of sugar until they form soft peaks. Take the crème pâtissière off the heat, whisk in the Grand Marnier and beat briefly, then add one-third of the egg whites. Mix well,
then carefully fold in the rest of the egg whites with a spatula.
Preheat the oven to 240°C/Fan 220°C/Gas 9. Lay a pancake on a board and spoon a quarter of the crème pâtissière mix over one half. Add a few orange segments, then fold the pancake over and press down gently to seal the edges. Repeat with the remaining pancakes, crème pâtissière mix and orange segments. Put the filled pancakes on a lightly greased baking tray and bake in the preheated oven for 2–5 minutes. Remove and dust them generously with icing sugar, then place under a hot grill for 4–5 minutes, so that the sugar melts and becomes partly caramelised. To serve, slide each pancake on to a plate. Pour some of the reduced orange juice around each one and add a few orange segments. Serve at once.
Cephalopods are amazing. Octopi have been shown to use tools, cuttlefish can camouflage in an instant and squid giggle if you give them ten-tickles (I’m very, very sorry). Giggling Squid really is a fantastic name for a restaurant. It was originally a nickname for the son of co-founders Andy and Pranee and subsequently the name of their first restaurant in Brighton. One place has turned into many and it’s now a chain of Thai restaurants across the UK and their debut cookbook is an attempt to make their menu accessible to home cooks.
On that menu is everything that makes Thai cuisine so brilliant: curries of all colours, noodles that are sweet, spicy, salty and sour in equal measure and vibrant stir-fries and salads. It also has “Thai Tapas”, marketing speak for small dishes like spring rolls, corn cakes and satay.
Cookbooks that come from chains can be a mixed bag. At best it can be a peek behind the curtain, a thrilling glimpse into the kitchen sorcery that goes into your favourite dishes. Dishoom’s debut cookbook is a great example, a comprehensive exploration of their menu and the extensive work behind seemingly simple dishes. It can equally be a disappointment. A cash-in turning high street prevalence into a stocking filler for your sister because she really likes the dough balls at Pizza Express.
Giggling Squid feels like neither. There’s enough good stuff to feel like there’s thought behind it and the wide variety of food that makes Thai cuisine so popular is well represented. A cashew nut stir-fry and coconut rice that’s all the best sweet and spicy bits of Thai cuisine (but I believe owes a debt to The Wok for my improved stir-frying); Lamb Shank Massaman are three words that just can’t fail; and their more unique dishes like Chubby Pork Cheek Stew or butternut squash hollowed out and stuffed with vegetable curry are all decent fodder. It’s straightforward enough and as Thai ingredients are now very easy to source in the big supermarkets you should have no difficulties in finding them unless it’s the more bespoke ingredients like galangal or Thai Basil.
If you’re a Giggling Squid ultra or this is your first introduction to Thai cooking, you’ll probably get a lot from this. There’s the menu’s big hitters and the recipes are accessible and easy enough to make. If you happen to have almost any other Thai cookbook, there’s little to be found that’s new.
Cuisine: Thai Suitable for: Beginners Cookbook Review Rating: Three stars
Mo Wilde is a forager, research herbalist and ethnobotanist. She lives in West Lothian in a self-built wooden house on four organic acres where she encourages medicinal and foraging species to make their home, creating a wild, teaching garden. She lived for a year on a wild food diet, started on Black Friday, 27 Nov 2020. She has a Masters degree in Herbal Medicine, is a Fellow of the Linnean Society, a Member of the British Mycological Society and a Member of the International Lyme and Associated Diseases Society (ILADS). She also teaches foraging and herbal medicine courses, with the aim of “Restoring Vital Connection” – the mantra of the Association of Foragers. She is the author of The Wilderness Cure which was shortlisted in the Andre Simon awards in 2022. Nick Dodd spoke to her for cookbookreview,org.
The Wilderness Cure is such an interesting and thought-provoking read. It’s a pleasure to have spent a year in your company and go on this adventure with you. How do you reflect on that time now, a couple of years later?
My wild food year really feels as though it was just yesterday. I think this is because as soon as I’d finished the year, I was writing my book about it. So I was reliving the year until June 2022 when it was published. Then, after realising that my gut results were fascinating but needed to be approached scientifically, I started working on The Wildbiome Project – 26 people eating wild as a ‘citizen science’ research study – which has just started. This has created a continuum which means my wild year has never finished!
Most of the issues that propelled me into the wild food year are still there, just under different news headings. So the political act of a ‘supermarket hunger strike’ is still relevant. The food shortages of ‘Beast from the East’ and COVID-19 are replaced by salad shortages as climate-induced drought reduces supply of Spanish imports and the cost-of-living crisis has reduced UK poly farmers’ supply. And we need, more than ever, to think about how we provide people with nutrient-rich food while living sustainably on this planet.
There is an incredible array of plant species you eat throughout the year that many readers, including myself, will have never heard of. You reference that in general, we eat an alarmingly low amount of species from the hundreds that are available all around us. How did you find writing about the tastes of these plants assuming the reader wouldn’t have the same reference points?
I ate over 300 species of plants, 87 species of fungi and 20 seaweeds – as well as fish, shellfish and culled game like venison. That’s a lot when you consider that half of the world’s daily calorie intake is from just 3 starchy species – wheat, corn and rice. However, it is a fraction of what is available. It is difficult explaining what things taste like sometimes. That’s why foraging books often say asparagus-like or celery-like. For instance, young Rosebay Willowherb shoots do taste a little like a cross between asparagus and okra; Ground Elder a cross between celery and parsley; wild Fuchsia berries a cross between a fig and a grape. But, young Common Hogweed shoot tempura… it’s undescribable. Either you know what fried Common Hogweed tastes like, or you don’t!
You invest a huge amount of time in the sourcing and preparation of your food, often using ingredients that have taken months or years to cultivate. How did the book begin to take shape alongside this?
Ironically, if you even the time out across the week, I averaged 1 1/2 hours per day in the pursuit, preparation and cooking of wild food. I don’t think that is long but it does take being very organised and thinking ahead. For example, I am not near the coast. But two days a year of dedicated harvesting is all the seaweed I need for a year. It’s a tiny fraction of what is available and I always harvest sustainably so there is little impact on the colonies I pick from. I guess the use of time boils down to what our priorities are. I would rather be outside than at the gym, watching TV, playing video games or losing my time to social media. It’s better for my physical and mental health.
A theme throughout the book was one of reclamation, whether through tools or techniques of our ancestors or eating according to the seasons. You also refer to your “Wild Self’ being reclaimed from your ‘Digital Self’ and I wonder how you’ve ensured they can live together in harmony. Where did you find technology to be of the most help or hindrance throughout your year of wild eating? For instance, you mention using Google Earth to scout out potential foraging spots.
When I’m teaching I’m sometimes asked to forage in a new place. Instead of wasting fuel on a recce trip I will use Google Earth to get a feel for the terrain. That is enough to tell me what I am likely to find there. The rest is up to the plants, fungi and seaweeds to observe the seasons, the weather and their normal patterns. They are usually pretty predictable! Certain technologies are vital as – even if we wanted to give it all up – the very nature of land ownership and exclusion precludes the necessarily nomadic life of an ancient hunter-gatherer. Modern foragers swop car or train trips for relocating with the seasons; a fridge-freezer for a souterrain; a dehydrator for a warm breezy day; an oven for a campfire! These are very different in nature though to the digital technologies that now consume us. Their constant demand for attention and reward-addiction triggers are creating a massive physical and mental health hazard. So many people never feel they are switched off. Without silence how can we hear other species, let alone the voice of our wild selves and souls? The extra blessing of foraging is that it roots you in the present moment, with the same freedom and focus of a child discovering nature. We badly need those moments in our busy lives.
Your year of wild food is one of enormous variety and as you note in the book, it’s all for free. With soaring living costs and climate change making some staples more difficult to produce, the ability to source nutritious and seasonal ingredients from your doorstep would be liberating. You’ve definitely convinced me to give it a go. What would your advice be for a beginner forager?
I’ve added some advice on ‘Getting Started’ at the back of my book. Start with one new species every week, giving it your focus, time and real-world attention. By the end of a year that’s over 50 new species. Books are great, field guides mandatory, but nothing beats going out with someone else who can show you the things the internet and print cannot: texture, smell, taste, context, scale, symbiotic partnerships. There’s a great organisation called the Association of Foragers where you can find a mindful foraging teacher near you. Visit their directory at foragers-association.org
Which other books on food or foraging would you recommend?
My bookshelves are groaning. As well as good field guides I recommend John Wright’s The Foragers’ Calender; Roger Philips’ Mushrooms; and other books by Association of Foragers’ members such as Robin Harford, Liz Knight, Miles Irving, Andy Hamilton, Emma Gunn, Adele Nozedar, Dave Hamilton, etc. This way you avoid the regurgitated errors that Google and Chat GPT make.
The meals you make from wild and foraged food all sound delicious. Could you be tempted to write a forager’s cookbook?!
I certainly could be tempted. I have a huge stash of recipes. There are lots of lovely books already out, Liz Knight’s ‘Forage’ for example, that combine farmed staples with wild ingredients. I am interested in that cookbook for ‘the end of time’ using only foraged ingredients – but also offering farmed substitutes as not everyone wants to go fully hard core!
What does being shortlisted for the Andre Simon award mean to you?
I am delighted, surprised and incredulous at getting on to the shortlist for the 2022 André Simon Food Book Award. I didn’t know Simon & Schuster had entered me so it came out of the blue. I’m still pinching myself to see if its real that I wrote a book, let alone getting such lovely reviews and recognition.
The Food Substitutions Bible is a hefty reference volume offering over 8000 ideas for smart replacements useful on those occasions when you’ve misjudged the contents of your cupboards. Need something to sit in for those fennel seeds you forgot to pick up in the weekend shop? Simply flick through to ‘F’ and discover that while anise seeds are your ideal swap, dill seeds will work in a pinch to offer a slightly milder flavour, or caraway seeds, if you’re happy to forgo some sweetness.
This is the third edition of David Joachim’s book, which first came out in 2005, before being revised in 2010. The way we eat has changed significantly in the past decade, and the new additions here reflect that. From freekeh to katsuobushi, Joachim acknowledges the ongoing global shift in the industry.
But the focus isn’t strictly on base-level ingredients – there are recommendations for tools that might stand in for a blowtorch, a steamer, or various specialist pots and pans. Folks with cookbooks that are more ambitious than their local supermarket shelves will find plenty of use in the suggestions of more readily accessible equivalents to elk, squirrel and crocodile.
There’s still room for improvements in future editions, though: having been diagnosed as coeliac last year, I’m still trying to get my head around substitutions for a long list of ingredients I have been surprised to have robbed from my kitchen (Marmite! Soy sauce! English mustard!) While each of these are addressed in some way in the book, none of them face the gluten question head on. This feels like a waste when the very concept of the book offers so much promise to those suffering from any number of dietary restrictions; those with nut allergies will be among those who might also feel a little underserved in some areas.
You should buy The Food Substitutions Bible for a handy point of reference while cooking. Yes, Google exists, but when you’re deep into a recipe and juggling several pans at once it can be a real faff to discern which citation-thirsty suggestion will actually work in practice. Even in the first week in my house, Joachim came to my rescue on two different occasions, suggesting simple replacements that saved dinner. For that alone, this is a purchase worth making.
Cuisine: Global Suitable for: Beginner and confident home cooks as well as curious foodies and professional chefs Cookbook Review Rating: Four stars
What’s the USP? A follow up of sorts to Ramsay’s 2007 book Three Star Chef that focuses on the food and story of his three Michelin starred flagship restaurant Restaurant Gordon Ramsay in Chelsea, London. Recipes are organised by seasons, each with an introduction to the key ingredients available at the time of year. Interspersed is Ramsay’s anecdotal history of the restaurant. As such, the book is aimed at professional chefs and those who want a memento of what might possibly be a meal of a lifetime and be of less interest to the audience for Ramsay’s usual quick and easy-style cookbooks such as Ramsay in 10: Delicious Recipes Made in a Flash.
Who is the author? That bad tempered shouty bloke from off the telly, that’s who. Born in Scotland and brought up in Stratford-upon-Avon, he is a former aspiring professional footballer turned most-famous-chef-currently-on-the-planet. Trained by some of the leading chefs of the time including Albert Roux, Marco Pierre White, Guy Savoy and Joël Robuchon, Ramsay opened his first restaurant Aubergine in Fulham in 1993 where he won two Michelin stars. The third came when he opened Restaurant Gordon Ramsay in 1998. His restaurant empire currently spans the UK, France, the US, Dubai and Singapore and encompasses everything from the two Michelin starred Le Pressoir d’Argent in Bordeaux to a string of Street Pizza and Street Burger restaurants. Ramsay is a familiar figure on TV both sides of the Atlantic with shows including Hell’s Kitchen, Masterchef, Masterchef Jr., 24 Hours To Hell & Back, Gordon Ramsay: Uncharted and Gordon, Gino And Fred.
The book’s co author is Restaurant Gordon Ramsay Chef Patron Matt Abé who has worked for Ramsay for 16 years. Born in Australia, he worked at Aria Restaurant in Sydney and Vue du Monde in Melbourne before moving to the UK at the age of 21 to work as chef de partie at Claridge’s. He then moved to Restaurant Gordon Ramsay, working his way up from chef de partie to his current position overseeing the whole restaurant.
Are the recipes easy to follow? Well, sort of. Let’s take ‘Veal Sweetbread, Toasted Grains, Ajo Blanco, Malt’ as an example. First you’ll need to make your veal stock and chicken stock (separate recipes for both are included in the ‘basics’ section). You’ll need 4kg of veal bones and 3kg of chicken wings and necks and 24 hours during which you’ll be regularly skimming the stocks. The recipe fails to explain how you’ll get any sleep during this process so you’ll have to figure that one for yourselves.
Anyway, once you’ve had a nap, it’s time to get the malt jus on. You’ll just need a kilo of veal trimmings for this and fair amount of time for browning and reducing and passing. Once you’ve got your beautiful and extremely expensive sauce, it’s time to deep fry some wild rice and amaranth grains to puff them up for garnish. The cost of living crisis means this alone is an horrendously expensive process, but it’ll be worth it.
Once you’ve got those boxed up, all you need to do is trim 2kg of veal heart sweetbreads (they were all out at Asda but I’m sure you can track them down at your local butcher. Do you have one of those? Lucky you) removing the membrane with your razor sharp Japanese-style chef’s knife. Then just fry them up and top with some honey glaze (there’s a separate recipe for that), your puffed grains plus some sobacha and malted oats you just happen to have in the cupboard, along with all those allium buds and flowers you were looking for something to do with. Then you pour over your ajo blanco (sorry, didn’t I mention it that before? Yes, that’s another thing you need to make) and your malt jus and job’s a good’un.
It’s at this point you begin to realise why dinner at Restaurant Gordon Ramsay costs £180 a head just for the food. So to answer the question, the recipes are pretty straightforward, if you take each individual component by itself. But it’s the amount of components, the number of ingredient, the time involved and the skill and equipment required (you’ll need a Vitamix if you are going to follow the recipe to the letter and achieve the sort of velvety texture Abé does in the restaurant for example) that’s the issue.
Will I have trouble finding the ingredients? There are a number of dishes such as canapes and amuse-bouche where you will find it impossible as there are no recipes, just images and a description. This sadly includes the restaurant’s fantastic Parker House rolls. If anything would have been worth the £60 cost of the book it would be a recipe for that bread, one of the highlights of a recent meal I was lucky enough to enjoy at RGR.
While many of the ingredients for most of the dishes in the book are readily available in some form or another, there are quite a few instances of micro herbs/foraged flowers, herbs and leaves and the sort of powders associated with molecular gastronomy (although the food in the book is very far removed from that) being required. So you’ll need for example to track down mustard frills, chickweed leaves and three cornered garlic flowers for a asparagus and morel starter, and some Ultratex (and a Pacojet) to make a herb puree for a cod and Jersey Royal dish. However, it would only take a little thought and ingenuity for an experienced cook (and certainly a professional chef) to work around these requirements without straying too far from the original intention of the dish.
How often will I cook from this book? While this is at heart a coffee table book, it could also have a useful life in your kitchen. If you are a home cook, most of the complete dishes in the book will be quite a serious undertaking. However, many of the individual components are fairly straightforward, so you might make the saffron emulsion (mayo) that accompanies a crab and melon mousse and that’s flavoured with paprika and Espelette chilli powder and serve it with some simply grilled fish.
Does it make for a good bedtime read? This is the story of the restaurant as well as a recipe book so there’s a good amount to read. This is very much Ramsay’s version of events however and key players like Marcus Wareing, Angela Hartnett, Mark Sargeant, Jason Atherton and Mark Askew (none of whom still work for Ramsay) get only a passing mention. There are a few juicy nuggets like the fact Ramsay was paid £200k for the Boiling Point documentary series and that he applies ‘ruthless margins on wine’ (now you know the other reason why your dinner is so expensive). If you’ve read Playing With Fire or Humble Pie, Ramsay ‘s two autobiographies you won’t learn much new here but it’s an enjoyable read nevertheless. There are also some interesting observations on seasonal ingredients including the fact that lobsters are never cooked whole at the restaurant because each part cooks at a different rate.
Should I buy the book? The book looks a million dollars, especially the fantastic food shots by John Carey, is a decent read and has some great, if daunting recipes. Ramsay fans, professional chefs and ambitious home cooks will find much to enjoy and inspire here. What it’s definitely not is a practical everyday cookbook, but there are plenty of those already. Perhaps a book you would gift rather than buy for yourself.
Cuisine: Modern British Suitable for: For professional chefs Cookbook Review Rating: Four stars
In 2004, chefs from the Scandinavian countries of Norway, Sweden and Denmark assembled alongside other Nordic chefs from Finland, Iceland, the Faroe Islands, Greenland, and Åland. After days gathered around what surely must have been an immaculately crafted solid oak table, bathed in natural light pouring in from floor to ceiling windows and set in the middle of a minimalist, yet tasteful, room of bare concrete walls, they emerged with The New Nordic Food Manifesto. The manifesto outlines ten aims of what food from the Nordic regions should be. One states that food should be reflective of the seasons, made with ingredients that are able to be sourced locally while another seeks to provide basic standards for animal welfare and responsible fishing. Noma’s live prawns topped with black ants, could be seen as an extreme example of an aim for purity, freshness and simplicity.
Gravlax, smørrebrød and IKEA meatballs aside, it’s likely that when we think of Scandinavian food, it looks something like the manifesto envisioned: conscious and graceful food, using few ingredients and cooked well. As a young budget traveller many moons ago, my idea of Scandinavian dishes used to be cheap newsagents hotdogs, the ones that pirouette in their own swill for hours before being decanted into a sweet, bleached bun and lathered with sauce from a hand pump.
Simply Scandinavian is thankfully lacking in hotdog recipes and instead, presents the fresh, seasonal and straightforward food Scandinavian cookery is synonymous with. It’s the latest in a line of Scandinavian cookbooks from chef and food writer Trine Hahnemann, with others focusing on comfort food, baking and entirely vegetable-based recipes.
It’s an easy book to drop into, not requiring any special ingredients than what you might already have lurking in the fridge. They’re predominantly vegetable-based and with chapters arranged by a “what do you fancy?” approach like Daily Comfort Food, Feeling Green or Light Dinners it makes selecting what to cook even more accessible.
Most recipes require little investment of time or energy. A meal of Chilled Pea Soup, a creamy Curry with Grapes accompanied by a Black and White Salad of lentils and rice came together within the hour. Most take less than thirty minutes, like a Roast Tomato Soup, featuring a tickle of coriander seeds or the Hot Smoked Salmon, Spinach and Fennel Salad.
There are some that require more involvement, the Roast Pork Loin or most dishes in the slightly misleading ‘Baking on a Whim’ chapter which to me suggests cinnamon rolls in a jiffy but tends to entail a fair amount of effort. Some are definitely whimmy, a Creamy Filo Vegetable Pie can be made in under an hour as can the Beautiful Cauliflower Trees on Filo, whereas the Buttery Leek Tart takes a little over. Rhubarb Sticky Buns are a morning’s work though happen to be entirely worth the effort and everything you’d want from a title like that.
Simple food is hard to get right both for cooks and, I imagine, cookbook authors. In a dish with few parts, so much will rely on the quality of those ingredients and the skill to prepare them well, especially with a cuisine like this, which doesn’t rely heavily on strong flavoured ingredients or spices. And while I don’t judge a book by its cover, I do judge it on how straightforward it claims to be on that cover. Can I make multiple dishes from it simultaneously? Does it inspire me to cook well when time is short? Is it easy to adapt to ingredients I have available?
Resoundingly, yes. The writing is clear, concise and easy to follow and dietary adaptations are made with simple instructions though for my tastes, some dishes would be better with a little more complication. I’d sacrifice the ease of some recipes if it meant not having to eat raw asparagus or cauliflower again.
Simply Scandinavian is ultimately a collection of intentionally unshowy recipes featuring fresh food that’s occasionally hearty, often delicate and almost always as easy as a cycle around Copenhagen.
Cuisine: Scandinavian Suitable For: Beginners/Confident home cooks Cookbook Review Rating: four stars Buy this book:Simply Scandinavian
£27, Quadrille Publishing Ltd
Review written by Nick Dodd a Leeds-based pianist, teacher and writer. Contact him atwww.yorkshirepiano.co.uk
Every now and then you need a good burger in your life, and this one satisfies that craving. This is the kind of dish I make for my non-vegan friends. The sorrel hoisin glaze is quietly delicious and adds a fruity twist. Lettuce and pickles are non-negotiable here. There’s just something about the hot, crispy, sticky glazed oyster mushrooms and the ice-cold lettuce.
SERVES 6
PREP TIME 20 MINUTES, PLUS 20 MINUTES MARINATING TIME
COOK TIME 30 MINUTES
250 g (9 oz) oyster mushrooms
2 tablespoons Green Seasoning (see below)
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1 tablespoon ground allspice
vegetable oil, for deep-frying
1 x quantity Sorrel Hoisin Glaze (see below)
salt and freshly ground black pepper
FOR THE WET DREDGE
400 ml (13 fl oz/generous 1½ cups) soya milk
1 tablespoon lemon juice
2 tablespoons hot sauce of your choice
FOR THE CRISPY COATING
200 g (7 oz/1⅔ cups) plain (all-purpose) flour
50 g (2 oz/scant ½ cup) cornflour (cornstarch)
1 tablespoon all-purpose seasoning
1 teaspoon dried sage
1 teaspoon ground allspice
1½ teaspoons onion powder
1½ teaspoons garlic granules
TO SERVE
6 vegan-friendly brioche burger buns
knob of vegan block butter
vegan mayonnaise
½ iceberg lettuce
gherkins (pickles)
In a bowl, toss the mushrooms with the green seasoning, soy sauce, allspice and some salt and pepper. Set aside to marinate for 20 minutes. Combine the wet dredge ingredients in one bowl and the crispy coating ingredients in another, seasoning the coating mix with plenty of salt and pepper.
Add a little of the wet dredge to the dry coating and mix in – this will create small lumps, which will become crispy pockets. Dip the mushrooms in the wet dredge, then into the coating mix and then repeat for a double coating. Tap off any excess coating mix and set aside on a baking sheet, ready to fry.
Pour enough vegetable oil into a high-sided heavy-bottomed frying pan (skillet) or saucepan to fill to halfway and gently bring to heat. Test the temperature by using a wooden spoon – if lots of bubbles appear around it immediately, it’s ready to go.
Add 4–5 mushrooms to the pan, taking care not to overcrowd. Fry for 5–6 minutes until crisp and golden. Drain off any excess oil on a wire rack. Repeat until all the mushrooms are cooked. Brush the sorrel hoisin glaze on the mushrooms and set aside.
Toast the brioche buns with a touch of vegan butter. On the base of each bun spread a tablespoon of vegan mayonnaise and add a couple of lettuce leaves. Now add the glazed mushrooms and pickles. And another dollop of vegan mayo on the top bun. Serve and enjoy!
GREEN SEASONING
SERVES 10–12
PREP TIME 3 MINUTES
This flavour bomb is great to add to stews, soups and marinades.
bunch of coriander (cilantro)
bunch of flat-leaf parsley
10 springs of thyme, leaves picked
5 spring onions (scallions), roughly chopped
2 celery stalks, roughly chopped
1 bulb of garlic, cloves peeled
1 onion, roughly chopped
1 green (bell) pepper, roughly chopped
1 Scotch bonnet
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper
Put all the ingredients in a food processor and blend for 2–3 minutes to your desired consistency. I like mine quite fine, but you might like yours more coarse. Store in a clean jar and refrigerate for up to 2 weeks.
SORREL HOISIN GLAZE
SERVES 3–4 PREP TIME 5 MINUTES
COOK TIME 10 MINUTES
Sorrel is a hibiscus drink. The floral notes really work with the sweetness of the hoisin sauce. This would work well in various dishes, especially anything crispy and fried.
400 ml (13 fl oz/generous 1½ cups) sorrel soft drink
1 Scotch bonnet
4 allspice berries
100 ml (3/2 fl oz/scant ½ cup) hoisin sauce
Combine the sorrel, whole Scotch bonnet and allspice in a saucepan, bring to the boil, then reduce by half – it should hold on the back of a spoon and be sticky. Add the hoisin sauce, then transfer to a clean jar and store for up to 2 weeks in the refrigerator.
Who is Steve the Bartender? You’ll know Steve Roennfeldt from his hugely popular YouTube channel, launched in 2015 and which at the time of writing boasts 600 videos and 713k subscribers. He has more than two decades experience working in the hospitality industry in Australia and is founder of Threefold Distilling.
What’s the USP? A complete guide to cocktails at home, from stocking up your bar, what barware you’ll need, how to make your own syrups and mixers and 125 cocktail recipes. It’s the perfect introduction for cocktail newbies or more experienced amateur enthusiasts who want to up their game. What more could you ask for?
What will I love? The book is beautifully laid out and leads you gradually into the subject, like a mini-cocktail masterclass. First there’s a short history of cocktails (Roennfeldt suggests they are a British invention – hurrah for us – with roots in the bowls of sprits and fruits served in 18th century punch houses) and cocktail timeline that tracks the development of mixed drinks from those simple punches through prohibition, tiki bars, disco drinks and modern technique driven cocktail bars that emerged from he early 90s until today. You’ll then learn about the various cocktail families such sours and highballs.
Now you’re an instant expert on cocktails, you’re ready to get hands on and start stocking up your own home bar. From my own experience, this can be a daunting task; read a random sample of half a dozen modern cocktails online and you might well believe you’re going to need a small fortune and ton of storage for all those obscure premium spirits and random liqueurs. Roennfeldt has the solution, advising his readers to ‘pick a few favourite cocktails, purchase the select bottles needed and expand your bottle collection gradually’. Wise words. Roennfeldt then offers recommendations for spirits, liqueurs, amaros, aromatised wines including vermouths and sherry bitters.
Recipes for making your own syrups and mixers are followed by a primer on types of ice (cubed, crushed and clear) and garnishes like olives and cucumber. Now you’re ready to buy some essential kit like a shaker and a muddler and purchase your glassware. Roennfeldt lists three essentials including highball and six secondary including a hurricane, the tulip shaped glass you serve a pina colada in, all handily illustrated so you know exactly what you need to get and for what purpose.
Finally, Roennfeldt outlines how to execute the essential techniques you’ll need including shaking (10-12 seconds is enough apparently, any longer and you’re wasting everyone’s time) and stirring (it takes longer to achieve the correct serving temperature than you might think, up to 30 seconds. More advanced techniques include ‘fat-washing’; infusing things like bacon and coconut oil into spirits.
Roennfeldt offers some cocktail menus to simplify to job of hosting a cocktail party for friends and then it’s into the recipes. These are grouped in to aperitivo, whiskey, gin, rum, tequilas/mezcal, brandy/cognac/vodka, fortified wine and liqueurs, so something for everyone.
How easy are the recipes to follow? Every recipe is illustrated with a full page colour photograph which looks great and you can see exactly how your drink should look. Every recipe is headed by the main ingredient written in large type at the top of the page which makes it simple to flick through the book and find the category of drinks you are interested in making. Roennfeldt also lists where the drink originated, the type of drink (e.g. tropical), the method of making, the glassware you’ll need and the required garnish so you can quickly decide if you have everything to hand to make the drink or if you need to go shopping or maybe choose another recipe.
Instructions are clear and comprehensive with both ounce and ml measurements, so you won’t put a foot wrong. How complicated can mixing a drink be? Well, there are more variables than you might expect and Roennfeldt covers them all. For example, in his recipe for Port-au-Prince, a rum-based tropical drink, named after the Haitian capital, that originated circa 1930 by Don the Beachcomber and that’s served in a footed pilsner glass with a lime wedge (I learned all that in seconds just by reading the recipe), Roennfeldt recommends ‘flashblending’ the drink in a milkshake maker, but offers the alternative method of ‘whip shaking’ – a short shake with a small amount of pebble ice that will chill, combine and aerate the drink. He also offers an alternative recipe by increasing the quantity of rum and splitting it between two types, aged Haitian and demerara rum.
Should I buy the book? If you are new to cocktail making, or want to kick your home bartending skills up a notch, this is the book for you. Like any great educator, Roennfeldt has seen his subject from his reader/pupil’s point of view ensuring they have all the information they need. There is no assumption of knowledge or expertise on the reader’s part so you won’t find yourself having to Google jargon related to techniques or equipment or ingredients. It’s an extremely well thought-through book that look great too. What are you waiting for? Order the book, get your shake (or stir) on and take your drinking (of the responsible kind of course).
Cuisine: Cocktails Suitable for: Beginners/Confident home bartenders Cookbook Review Rating: Five stars
The multi-talented Denai Moore is an acclaimed soul singer as well as the vegan chef behind Dee’s Table pop up restaurant and has developed recipes for Leon and Tesco among others. With her debut cookbook, Moore wants to smash preconceptions about Jamaican food which she says is ‘often misrepresented, stripped of its complexity and reduced to being a meat-heavy cuisine’. Instead, Plentiful is a collection of vegan recipes that celebrates the vibrancy and diversity of Jamaican cooking which Moore says is a ‘melting pot of different cultures’ that uses spices in a unique way.
Moore mixes the food of her childhood growing up in Jamaica with influences from East and Southeast Asia. Her take on the Thai salad larb incorporates Jamaican-style ‘green seasoning’ (made with blended coriander, parsley, thyme, green pepper and scotch bonnet) and as well as vegan fish sauce and tofu. Moore’s version of ramen uses the traditional base of Jamaican ‘brown stew’, caramelised brown sugar, then adds a kombu broth flavoured with allspice, another typically Jamaican ingredient. Topped with pak choi, tofu and noodles, the finished dish looks like ramen but it’s a creation all of Moore’s own.
Moore has gone off-piste with the book’s format too. Forget starters, mains and desserts, instead there’s chapters entitled ‘Food That I Dream About Before Going To Bed’ (i.e. breakfasts including a hominy corn porridge inspired by her grandmother’s recipe), ‘Salads That Aren’t Lame’ (beetroot with olive and scotch bonnet jam) and ‘Comfort Grub’ (squash and butter bean curry with spinners, a type of dumpling).
Although Moore says the book is intended to include ‘all the greatest Jamaican hits’, she has included many recognisable elements of the cuisine, albeit in her inimitable way. Callaloo, a leafy green, is turned into pesto for pasta, ackee fruit replaces eggs in a carbonara and there’s vegan versions of Jamaican classics like patties and red pea (kidney bean) soup. From rice and peas arancini to a Jamaican ginger and marzipan loaf, Moore brings individuality and creativity to every dish, ensuring that Plentiful will provide inspiration to any inquiring chef.
Cuisine:Jamaican Suitable for: Beginners/Confident home cooks Cookbook Review Rating: Four stars
Here’s how I eat: first with my mind, and then with my body.
I’m the sort of person who is thinking about what’s for dinner while they’re still munching on their breakfast. A planner who plots a big shop at the beginning of the week, and an improviser, who then adapts those plans as the days unfurl around him.
I am also – whisper this – not exactly rolling in cash. I don’t know if anyone’s told you, but shit is expensive right now. And so a lot of my cooking is based around the food that will offer me the most value. Affordable ingredients are a key part of my eating at the moment, and this is what led me to launch a new recipe newsletter called Ideas with Legs.
Chicken legs are easily the best bit of the bird. Full of flavour, the perfect size for an individual portion and, above all else, really affordable. Even Waitrose and Ocado will sell you a pair of the bad boys for less than £1.50.
Annoyingly, though, the leg doesn’t get a whole lot of attention in cookbooks. Plenty of room for skinned, boned thighs, yes. Not so much for the simple, cost-effective full leg.
Ideas with Legs has been born out of my ongoing quest to find fun, varied recipes that make the most of this underappreciated ingredient. As I toy around with different dishes from all around the world, I’ll be sharing what I find and, hopefully, offering up some new ideas that will help you to enjoy affordable, flavour-filled dinners.
Each month, subscribers will receive a new recipe centred on chicken legs. Last month I opened the Ideas with Legs account by sharing a recipe for a Filipino chicken adobo. Later this week, I’ll spin the globe and explore a Brazilian rice dish called galinhada that I’m enjoying so much I keep forgetting I’m supposed to be working on other recipes too.
If you want to delve into food a little deeper with me, I’m also offering a cheeky subscription version of Ideas with Legs. You’ll get extra recipes that go beyond the leg: I’ll share Offally Good Ideas that make the most of some of the most overlooked cuts of meat. Occasionally I might offer up Ideas with Veg(etables) too. Oh, and everything I share will be gluten free. Mainly because I don’t get a choice in the matter.
I don’t expect to make much money from the paid part of Ideas with Legs, and I’m not really doing it for that reason anyway, so subscriber fees have been set at the minimum Substack will let me get away with. I know this because I tried to make it cheaper and they told me off.
Having spent three years reviewing cookbooks here, it’s probably about time I put my best (chicken) leg forward and offer something up myself. Hopefully some of you will join me. I’ve plenty of delicious ideas in the works, and have even managed to get some gorgeous artwork for the newsletter by the Observer newspaper’s political cartoonist and former Children’s laureate Chris Riddell. Now, I suppose, I just need to get cooking.
What’s the USP? Here’s a book guaranteed to stir up some sort of response in anyone over, say, thirty years of age. as cooked on TikTok is a collection of ‘fan favourites and recipe exclusives’ from over 40 of the social network’s food influencers.
And look, we’re coming into this one with serious trepidation, yes? The front cover promises a foreword by ‘Gordon + Tilly Ramsay’, and the pictures on the back include ‘Cloud Bread’, part of a trend of ‘fluffy’ foods that also included whipped coffee and ‘cloud eggs’, which are both featured inside as well.
In case you were wondering, Cloud Bread looks atrocious. Dyed blue (like… clouds?), and made using only egg whites, sugar, cornstarch and vanilla extract, it looks less like a cumulonimbus, and more like a failed soap that’s been dumped unceremoniously on the Lush factory floor. A good start, then.
Who wrote it? Primarily referred to by their TikTok handles, the names of the 40 influencers here won’t mean much to anyone not actively following foodtok (you’ve got this, really, I’m right here with you, offering my love and support – foodtok is just the corner of TikTok focussed on cooking and eating).
There’s a real sense of variety, though. Most of the featured creators are based in North America, but many are immigrants who are bringing the dishes of their home country to a wider audience. There are students and young professionals who love to share their homemade concoctions, professionals who have found a new way to expand their brand, and retired grandmothers with a penchant for cosplay amongst the contributors. And @newt who, according to his bio, ‘really likes parsley’. Good for @newt.
Is it good bedtime reading? Gordon Ramsay and his daughter Tilly do their best to convince you otherwise with a painful foreword that is meant to read like an improvised dialogue but instead feels like the pained patter of morning television presenters pulled in to replace the usual hosts.
Beyond the foreword, though, there’s more to engage with here than you might expect. as cooked on TikTok could have easily chosen to share nothing but the easiest and most attention-grabbing dishes. Instead, it serves as a pretty decent beginner’s guide to cookery. One that doesn’t assume the worst of its readers, and seeks to teach them some useful skills beyond the basics.
Admittedly, these lessons tend to come in relatively grating formats – recurring segments with TikTok-themed titles like ‘#lifehack’ or ‘I was today years old’. But the information within is usually a cut above keeping your knives sharp, or maintaining different chopping boards for different foods. Instead we get introductions to asafoetida and Chinkiang vinegar, piping bag tips and recommendations of kitchen gear that include sesame grinders.
How annoyingly vague are the recipes? Editorial consistency is always the key in a compilation cookbook. It’s a big part of why I couldn’t get on with the Andre Simon-award nominated Eat, Share, Love – but it’s not an issue here. Ebury Press have reigned in the wildly different styles of their contributors; recipes are simple to follow, with measurements in both imperial and metric. For anyone still unsure, each recipe has a QR code that will take you to the creator’s corresponding TikTok video. Admittedly these vary greatly – @auntieloren’s video for Biscuit Pot Pie is almost meditative, soundtracked by a Janet Jackson slowjam. Aforementioned grandmother @cookingwithlynja, on the other hand, offers up an intense and chaotic video for Ramen Carbonara in which she is mostly yelling, and dressed as anime icon Naruto. Sure, why not?
What’s the faff factor? Dishes here are, as you might expect from a format where most videos come in under three minutes, pretty simple. The #lifehack suggestions often help cut your work down further, too.
How often will I cook from the book? Let’s be very clear here: the target audience for this title skews young. My best guess is that this will mostly be used by students and those in their early twenties – the sort of people who are just starting out on their road of culinary discovery and are looking for quick and exciting meals that they can throw together after a shitty 9-5:30 job with an hour’s commute at either end. And for those people: actually, this could see them through a decent part of the week.
Cookbooks for students in particular remain a sad and uninspired little corner of the market in which the same clichéd dishes are trotted out in drab titles that haven’t evolved that much in the past twenty years. as cooked on TikTok is an excellent alternative to these. Recipes are playful, and really varied – almost every recipe here stands out as unique amongst my entire cookbook collection. Where else would I turn for a Korean/Mexican fusion like Kkanpoong Tofu Tacos, or unexpected twists on classics like Cookies and Cream Kulfi?
As easy as it was for me to approach this book with an entitled sense of superiority over what could easily have been a zeitgeisty money-grab, as cooked on TikTok has a legitimately interesting range of meals that could happily feed mind and stomach alike.
Killer recipes: Marinated Riblets with Guajillo Salsa, Chilaquiles Rojos, Hot Crab and Spinach Dip with Garlicky Toasts, Butter Chicken Pasta, Ramen Lasagne, Sweet Chile-smashed Sprouts, Mini Burnt Basque Cheesecakes
Should I buy it? It won’t be for everyone – and it misses out on input from my favourite foodtok creator, @goodboy.noah, whose recipes are dictated by a rapping cheetah. But ultimately, as cooked on TikTok is delivering much more than it needed to. With dishes that are happy to subvert expectations, and draw on influences from around the world with irreverent joy, it’s a great introduction for those looking to step up their cooking from basic self-preservation to actually enjoying oneself.
Cuisine: International Suitable for: Beginner home cooks Cookbook Review Rating: Four stars
Another lovely tart with a crisp sweet pastry case and a sharp lemon filling.
SERVES 8
For the pâte sucrée 175g (6oz) plain flour, plus extra for dusting
75g (3oz) butter, softened
75g (3oz) caster sugar
3 large egg yolks
For the filling 5 large eggs
225g (8oz) caster sugar
125ml (4fl oz) pouring double cream
3 large lemons
To finish 6 tablespoons lemon curd
2 passion fruits
First make the pâte sucrée (sweet pastry). Measure the flour and butter into a bowl. Rub in the butter with your fingertips until the mixture resembles fine breadcrumbs. Stir in the sugar, then add the egg yolks. Mix until the ingredients come together to form a firm dough. Roll out the pastry on a lightly floured work surface and use to line a 23cm (9in) loose-bottomed flan tin. Prick the pastry all over with a fork. Chill in the fridge for 30 minutes.
Preheat the oven to 200°C/Fan 180°C/Gas 6.
Line the flan tin with non-stick baking paper and baking beans. Bake blind in the preheated oven for 15 minutes, then remove the paper and beans and bake for another 5 minutes until golden and crisp.
Reduce the oven temperature to 160°C/Fan 140°C/Gas 2.
To make the filling, mix the eggs, sugar and cream together in a large bowl. Zest the lemons and add to the mixture. Squeeze the juice from the lemons and add 150ml (¼ pint) to the bowl.
Pour the mixture into the tin and carefully slide back into the oven. Bake for about 30–35 minutes until the filling is set, but with a slight wobble. Leave to cool.
Meanwhile, mix the lemon curd and passion fruit pulp together in a bowl. Serve alongside the tart, or drizzle over the top.
The combination of toffee, bananas and cream makes this one of the most popular desserts around. Make sure you use a non-stick pan for the toffee and watch it very closely as you are making it, as it can burn easily.
BANOFFEE PIE
SERVES 6
For the base 175g (6oz) digestive biscuits
65g (2½oz) butter
For the toffee filling 115g (4oz) butter
115g (4oz) light muscovado sugar
2 x 397g cans full-fat condensed milk
For the topping 3 bananas, sliced
a little fresh lemon juice
300ml (½ pint) double cream
a little grated Belgian milk or dark chocolate, for sprinkling
You will need a 23cm (9in) deep loose-bottomed fluted flan tin.
To make the base, put the biscuits into a polythene bag and crush them to crumbs with a rolling pin. Melt the butter in a small pan, remove from the heat and stir in the crushed biscuits. Mix well.
Spread the mixture over the base and sides of the flan tin. Press the mixture with the back of a metal spoon.
To make the toffee filling, measure the butter and sugar into a large non-stick pan. Heat gently until the butter has melted and the sugar has dissolved. Add the condensed milk and stir continuously and evenly with a flat-ended wooden spoon for about 5 minutes, or until the mixture is thick and has turned a golden toffee colour – take care, as it burns easily. Turn it into the prepared crumb crust and leave to cool and set.
To make the topping, toss the bananas in lemon juice and arrange the slices over the toffee in a neat layer. Lightly whip the double cream until it forms soft peaks and spread evenly over the bananas. Sprinkle the whole pie with grated chocolate.
Remove the ring and transfer to a flat plate.
Serve well chilled.
TIP
Most condensed milk cans now have ring pulls, so the old method of simmering the can in a pan of water for 4 hours to caramelise the condensed milk is not advised.
This must be the best known and loved of all family cakes. The all-in-one method takes away the hassle of creaming, and ensures success every time. Baking spreads give an excellent result, but the cake won’t keep as long.
CUTS IN TO 6 GENEROUS SLICES
225g (8oz) baking spread, straight from the fridge
225g (8oz) caster sugar
4 large eggs
225g (8oz) self-raising flour
1 level teaspoon baking powder
For the filling and topping about 4 tablespoons strawberry jam
150ml (5fl oz) pouring double cream, whipped
a little caster sugar, for sprinkling
Preheat the oven to 180°C/Fan 160°C/Gas 4. Lightly grease two deep 20cm (8in) loose-bottomed sandwich tins and line the base of each with non-stick baking paper.
Measure all the cake ingredients into a large bowl and beat for about 2 minutes with an electric mixer until beautifully smooth and lighter in colour. The time will vary depending on the efficiency of the mixer. Divide the mixture evenly between the tins and level the surfaces.
Bake in the preheated oven for about 25 minutes, or until well risen, golden and the cakes are shrinking away from the sides of the tin. Leave to cool in the tins for a few minutes then turn out, peel off the baking paper and finish cooling on a wire rack.
When completely cold, sandwich the cakes together with the jam and whipped cream. Sprinkle with caster sugar to serve.
TIP
Here are the ingredients and baking times for smaller cakes so that you don’t have to calculate the quantities. Follow the instructions for the Large All-in-one Victoria Sandwich.
For an 18cm (7in) Victoria Sandwich, use 175g (6oz) baking spread, 175g (6oz) caster sugar, 3 large eggs, 175g (6oz) self-raising flour and ¾ teaspoon baking powder. Bake in two 18cm (7in) greased and lined sandwich tins for about 25 minutes.
For a 15cm (6in) Victoria Sandwich, use 115g (4oz) baking spread, 115g (4oz) caster sugar, 2 large eggs, 115g (4oz) self-raising flour and ½ teaspoon baking powder. Bake in two 15cm (6in) greased and lined sandwich tins for about 20 minutes.
These are stunning and make lunchtime extra special, inspired by a version I had at a street food festival. They’re so quick to make that they also work really well for dinner, especially if you’re having friends round. They look so good that people will think you’ve spent ages cooking but the reality is, it’s all done in 15 minutes.
SERVES 3 (331 calories each)
2 tbsp harissa paste
juice of 1 lemon
1 tsp paprika
1 tsp Cajun seasoning
1 tsp ground cumin
500g skinless, boneless chicken thighs
salt and pepper, to taste
3 supermarket gyros, flatbreads or pittas
handful of rocket
3 tbsp pomegranate seeds
small handful of pickled red onions (I use shop-bought – who has time to pickle
stuff?)
Sauce
5 heaped tbsp Greek yogurt
juice of 1 lemon
2 garlic cloves, crushed
1 Combine the harissa, lemon juice, paprika, Cajun seasoning, cumin and salt and pepper in a bowl. Coat the chicken with this mixture – if you can, preheat the air fryer for 2–3 minutes because adding the chicken to the hot drawer will give it an extra bit of char. Air-fry at 200°C for 12 minutes.
2 While the chicken is cooking, combine the yogurt with the lemon juice and garlic.
3 Heat the gyros or flatbreads and assemble, stuffing with the chicken and rocket and drizzling over the yogurt sauce, then top with the pomegranate seeds and pickled red onions.
I absolutely love tacos, and given my choice of filing, I’ll always go with cod. These are simply gorgeous and feel so fresh with the zesty lemon and lime flavours. You can really play around with this recipe – change the protein, add mango or chilli, make them totally veggie – the possibilities are endless.
Makes 8 tacos (224 calories each)
Fish
600g cod fillets
300ml water
1 egg
180g plain flour
1 tsp baking powder
1 tsp lemon pepper seasoning or lemon zest
salt and pepper, to taste
Sauce
6 tbsp light mayo
3 tbsp Greek yogurt
2 tbsp sriracha
juice of 1 lime
1 tsp paprika
1 tsp garlic powder
To serve
soft or hard-shell tacos
lettuce
tomatoes
red onion
coriander
guacamole (see page 46)
1 Season the cod fillets with salt and pepper.
2 In a bowl, beat the water, egg, flour, baking powder and lemon flavouring.
3 Coat the fish in the batter, then cook in a preheated air fryer at 200°C for 14–16 minutes – it’s important that the air fryer is piping hot as the fish goes in. Check after 10 minutes to ensure nothing burns – mine usually take 15 minutes.
4 While the fish is frying, combine all the sauce ingredients in a bowl and prep your filling ingredients.
5 Assemble the tacos with the fish, salad and guacamole and top with the sauce.
I can never resist arancini if I see them on a menu, and they’re even better if they’re made with ’nduja or chorizo. You can either use leftover rice for these or cook some fresh, but if you do this, I find it’s better to cook it the night before, as it sticks together better the next day – just simmer the rice in chicken stock, drain and cool completely before popping in the fridge overnight. I use light or reduced-fat mozzarella but just use whatever you can find.
MAKES ROUGHLY 16 BALLS (140 calories each)
400g cooked risotto rice, such as arborio
3 eggs
3 tbsp light butter, melted
2 tbsp grated Parmesan
100g grated mozzarella
135g panko breadcrumbs
1 tbsp Italian seasoning
200g ’nduja or cooked chorizo
low-calorie oil spray
salt and pepper, to taste
1 Take the rice out of the fridge and allow to come to room temperature.
2 Beat 2 of the eggs in a large bowl, add the melted butter, Parmesan and most of the mozzarella and season to taste.
3 Combine the breadcrumbs and Italian seasoning in another bowl.
4 Take a tablespoon of the rice mixture and press it together into a ball, then flatten the ball and put a piece of ’nduja or chorizo in the middle along with some of the egg and mozzarella mix. Enclose the filling with the rice and roll it into a ball. You might need to wet your hands for this.
5 Beat the remaining egg in a bowl and dip in the rice ball, then roll it in the breadcrumbs to coat. Repeat with the remaining mixture.
6 Spray the rice balls well with a low-calorie spray and cook
in an air fryer preheated to 190°C for 8 minutes
Have you seen the multi-Oscar winning Everything, Everywhere, All At Once? OMG you should, it’s great. Michelle Yeoh travels through the multiverse to save the world from destruction, amongst other much more nuanced things. The film exists in a place where up is not only down but left, right, a circle, a square, you, me, a reasonably priced hatchback, a holiday in Tenerife and every permutation above and beyond.
How else to explain Extra Good Things, the latest from the Ottolenghi Test Kitchen? A book with introductions to recipes such as “Potato slab pie: Think potato dauphinoise, meets quiche, wrapped up in pastry”. It is everything, everywhere, all at once. This has been the Ottolenghi way for years, who now surely exists as a multiversal version of himself: man, brand, restaurant and as the book tries to make the case for, a verb. It defines to Ottolenghify as taking an Eastern inspired, “vegetable-forward” approach to familiar dishes and mix with exotic ingredients from this universe or the next.
The authors are listed as Noor Murad and Yotam Ottolenghi though more broadly, it comes from the Ottolenghi Test Kitchen, a diverse team of chefs assembled in a bespoke North London kitchen tasked with finding new ways to blister pepper skins or marinate swedes. This spirit of adventure and experimentation makes its way into their cookbooks with the first, Shelf Love, reaching into the back of the cupboard to repurpose unloved ingredients into something greater. Extra Good Things looks at filling that space by making recipes featuring sauces, oils, ferments, pickles and salsas to be used again. Each chapter is arranged by these condiments, rather than the ingredients. “Something Fresh” features recipes with added pestos or salsas for instance while “A Little Bit of Funk” plays with ferments, brines and pickles.
It is a typically glossy and considered cooking experience as you would come to expect from Ottolenghi publications. The photography is just on the right side of messy, measurements are exacting and replacements are suggested for hard to find ingredients. Every recipe has an explicit aim for you to take something away with you, whether a bit of extra sauce to pair with other ingredients or pickles to layer onto sandwiches. A peanut gochujang dressing adds a zingy, spicy and creamy edge to the suggested tenderstem broccoli, but I’ve made it repeatedly since to throw onto other green veg, rice and sandwiches. Harissa butter mushroom Kyiv were both a spectacular main dish and a jumping point for stuffing other buttery herby things in between breaded mushrooms. The burnt aubergine pickle has been applied to pretty much everything it can.
While there are a handful of meat and fish dishes, the recipes are overwhelmingly vegetarian. The Ottolenghi approach to vegetables is where I think these books really shine, awarding an indulgence and satisfaction that can be missing in many plant-based dishes. I can understand why they’re not for everyone, recipes can be complicated or like maximalist artistic experiments in flavour. There is, of course, beauty to be found in minimal ingredients cooked well and dressed sparingly. I would also argue there’s beauty to be found in an aubergine Parmigiana pie the size of a Victoria Sponge baked with a spiced tomato sauce and stuffed with cheese and filo. There’s a reason these books are popular: the recipes are diverse, interesting, sometimes spectacular like the Butternut crunch pie or deceptively easy and impressive like 2-scalloped potatoes with chimichurri. I’ve yet to make anything that isn’t delicious.
In my opinion, all good cookbooks should seek for the reader to take something away with them – a new understanding of a cuisine, an introduction to new ingredients or a way of refining your skill in the kitchen. Extra Good Things does all this by putting an outcome at the forefront of every recipe. The book is all the better for it. Your cooking will be too.
Cuisine: International Suitable for: Beginner and confident home cooks Cookbook Review Rating: Five stars
IMPORTANT NOTICE: THIS PRIZE DRAW IS OPEN TO UK MAINLAND RESIDENTS ONLY
THE PRIZE James is a talented chef who has spent his life pursuing his passion for food.
In 2022 James was diagnosed with a terminal brain tumour, which has given him a new perspective on life. Despite his illness, he has remained determined to make the most of his time and has decided to auction his collection of cookery books to raise funds for the Brain Tumour Association.
The cookery books in James’ collection are his pride and joy, and he has collected them over 20 years in the industry. The 150+ books represent a lifetime of learning and exploration in the world of food and butchery.
His treasured collection includes books from the world’s best restaurants and chefs, and it is a testament to his dedication to his craft.
They range from unique and out of print books to accessible books, to say that from new to replace is a £4k + collection. The El Bulli collection alone is retailed at £500 and Sergiology book also retails over £500.
Since the diagnosis of a grade 4 inoperable brain stem tumour, James has discovered that brain tumour research receives only around 1% funding. The importance of raising funds for the Brain Tumour Association has never been more important, and he is auctioning his beloved collection to help others in need. It is a selfless act that speaks to James’ character and his desire to make a positive impact in the world, even in the face of adversity.
James hopes that his contribution will help others who are also affected by brain tumours, and he is grateful for the opportunity to make a difference in this way. He has met amazing people who also want to help, and he hopes that with more available funds, they will be able to help more people in the future.
Find out how to enter the draw by clicking here The draw is open to UK mainland residents only and closes 14th April 2023 at 2:46pm. Full terms and conditions are here.
This is of course an amazing opportunity to acquire an incredible collection of cookbooks, but more importantly to support a truly altruistic act that benefits a worthy organisation, the Brain Tumour Charity who are dedicated to ‘a drive to improve services and outcomes for everyone affected by a brain tumour’.
Follow James on Twitter @chefjamesfpl and Instagram @jamescon198
The Wilderness Cure begins and ends on Black Friday. In what Mo Wilde saw as a symbol of destructive consumer behaviour towards the planet, she made a pledge: to live off entirely free and foraged food for an entire year. As a foraging specialist, ethnobotanist and research herbalist, Mo was more than equipped to meet the demands of her wild experiment.
The book diaries her year, journaling the seasons and weaving in historical accounts and studies to present a compelling argument for more mindful eating habits. She details the highs and lows of the journey from the scarce winter months, her relationship with eating meat, to how her body changes and reacts to a diet of foraged food. And while food may be wild, the meals she makes are as elegant as the writing describing it. Nothing goes to waste, nuts are made into flours, berries into ferments and ingredients dehydrated to last for longer. They are turned into meals that sound as if they’d be at home on the menu of any fine dining restaurant.
It’s written with such charm and an open reverence for the natural world, it’s impossible not to want to join her in examining our relationship with food. For instance, she forages an astonishing amount of different plant species and in doing so, shines a light on the relatively small amount that most of us eat as supermarket consumers. In a time of soaring living costs, the knowledge of how to find nutritious and free food on our doorstep would be valuable to have.
The Wilderness Cure makes a thought-provoking case for us to examine what, how and when we eat certain foods and our relationship with the environment that produces them. It is essential reading, not just for those interested in foraging and food but for all of us as consumers.
Established over four decades ago to celebrate the very best of contemporary food and drink writing, the books nominated for the André Simon Food and Drink Book Awards 2022 cover themes which range from foraged foods to an exploration of grief through cooking, the remarkable medicinal history of alcohol to the colonial roots of the global wine industry.
There are seven food and four drink books in this year’s shortlist. The food books reflect theburgeoning trend of memoir in food writing, intertwining human relationships and stories with food and recipes. As the shortlisted book Eat, Share, Love observes: food can be a universal language and sharing our intimate personal stories behind recipes has the ability to ‘build bridges.’ Unusually, five of this year’s food books also come from first-time authors. Each year the André Simon trustees are guided by independent assessors.
Fozia Ismail is this year’s food assessor. She is a cook, scholar and founder of Arawelo Eats, a platform for exploring politics, identity and colonialism through East African food. Matt Walls is this year’s drink assessor, he is an award-winning freelance wine writer, author and consultant who contributes to various UK and international publications.
“This year’s André Simon Food & Drink Book Awards shortlist is a testament to the remarkable talent and diversity in the world of food and drink writing, as well as some impressive first-time writers. From memoirs to in-depth historical explorations, these books show the power of food and drink to bring people together, heal and inspire. Food is not just sustenance for our bodies but also for our souls. It is a privilege to celebrate and recognise these exceptional works.” –
Nick Lander, Chair of the André Simon Awards.
Breadsong by Kitty and Al Tait tells the inspiring story of how baking changed the lives of the dad and daughter team behind The Orange Bakery in Oxfordshire, transforming teenager Kitty’s life after suffering from crippling depression, accompanied by their favourite recipes. Cooking: Simply and Well, for One Or Many by Jeremy Lee is a masterclass in simple everyday ingredients uncovering the renowned chef’s rediscovery of home cooking; brimming with stories, wit and indispensable advice. Eat Share Love by Kalpna Woolf is an inspirational collection of recipes from home cooks around the world accompanied by the personal stories behind them,revealing touching tales of love, family, friendship, happiness, loss, laughter and much more.
Lune: Croissants All Day, All Night by Kate Reid is the ultimate guide to perfectly and precisely baking the world’s best-loved pastry and Kate’s journey from Formula One engineer to owner of the Lune Croissanterie where precision and innovation remain essential. Motherland by Melissa Thompson is a celebration of Jamaican food and the island’s complex cultural history, taking us on a journey from its roots to the modern dishes now eaten around the world, with in-depth research woven into the recipes and personal stories.
The Wilderness Cure by Mo Wilde is a diary of a wild experiment; a timely and inspiring memoir of Mo’s radical pledge: to live only off free, foraged food for an entire year. She sees foraging as one of the last acts of defiance in the concrete world. The Year of Miracles by Ella Risbridger is a heart warming mix of memoir and food writing. Ella charts a year through the lens of her kitchen, weaving touching reflections on grief, love and hope together with must-try recipes.
This year’s food assessor Fozia Ismail explains: “It’s been a really difficult decision shortlisting these wonderful books. Many of the shortlisted works have a strong narrative quality that speaks to the emotionally challenging times we live in today, as well as providing inspiring food stories and recipes that give solace, learning, and joy. What an achievement for all the authors shortlisted and thank you for such wonderful work!”
The Shortlisted Drink Books
A Sense of Place Dave Broom Octopus
Drinking with the Valkyries Andrew Jefford Academie du Vin Library
Imperial Wine Jennifer Regan-Lefebvre University of California Press
The Perfect Tonic Camper English William Collins
This year’s shortlisted drinks books delve into whisky, wine, colonialism and the history of alcohol and medicine, offering new perspectives. In A Sense of Place, former André Simon winner Dave Broom, travels around his native Scotland visiting distilleries from Islay to Orkney telling the story of whisky’s history, considering what whisky is now, and where it is going, with stunning specially commissioned photography by Christina Kernohan.
In Drinking with the Valkyries author Andrew Jefford shares his fascinating observations from half a century of wine discovery. This collection of revised essays, opinions, and articles explores the beauty of wine difference, offering a philosophy of wine founded on personal discovery. Imperial Wine by Jennifer Regan-Lefebvre provides a deep dive into the colonial roots of the global wine industry. This is the first book to argue that today’s wine industry exists as a result of settler colonialism and that imperialism was central to viticulture in the British colonies. The Perfect Tonic by Camper English is an interconnected history of alcohol and medicine. The book reveals how and why the contents of our medicine and liquor cabinets were, until recently, one and the same.
This year’s Drinks assessor Matt Walls discusses the shortlist: “After much deliberation, our final drinks shortlist contains four contrasting styles of book, all of which are equally absorbing. Dave Broom’s A Sense of Place transports you to Scotland so vividly you can almost smell the whisky, as he looks at its links to people, place, culture and community.
In The Perfect Tonic, Camper English covers the fascinating and peculiar medicinal history of beer, wines, spirits and cocktails with irrepressible flair and wit. In her eye-opening, meticulously-researched Imperial Wine Jennifer Regan-Lefebvre examines how deeply the roots of the international wine trade are embedded in Empire and settler colonialism. And finally, in Drinking with the Valkyries, Andrew Jefford lets us share his wonder of wine through his peerlessly precise use of the English language.”
The winners will be announced at an in-person awards ceremony on Tuesday 14 March, an event that’s become an annual celebration of Britain’s best food and drink writing.
About the André Simon Food & Drink Book Awards
The André Simon Food & Drink Book Awards were founded in 1978 to honour the charismatic leader of the English wine trade André Louis Simon who wrote 104 books throughout his lifetime. They are the only awards in the UK to exclusively recognise the achievements of food and drink writers. Past winners include Elizabeth David, Michel Roux, Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall, Nigel Slater, Rick Stein, Hugh Johnson and Oz Clarke.
There are two categories for entry: food and drinks. For the winner of each category there is an award of £2,000. In addition, there are awards of £1,500 in honour of John Avery and the Special Commendation Award of £1,500 – both of these are at the discretion of the judges.
The André Simon Food & Drink Book Award Trustees are Nicholas Lander (Chair), Sarah Jane Evans MW, David Gleave MW and Xanthe Clay. See further details on the awards, the judging criteria, judges and trustees via the website at www.andresimon.co.uk.
What’s the USP? Compiling 91 recipes that span a broad range of global cuisines, each dish in Eat Share Love comes with a story, a personal connection, and a reminder that food nourishes us in more ways than one.
Who wrote it? The book has been compiled by Kalpna Woolf, a former Head of Production at the BBC, whose previous cookbook offered up spicy food for slimming. Seven years ago she launched charity 91 Ways to Build a Global City, named after the number of languages spoken by residents in Bristol, where the organisation is based. 91 Ways hosts ‘regular community-focussed events’ to bring the residents of the city together while also ‘helping people to make better decisions about their nutrition and well-being’. It’s a fairly messy concept with its heart in the right place. Which could also be a pretty neat summation of the charity’s new cookbook.
Is it good bedtime reading? There’s absolutely loads to read here, so in a sense, this could be a wonderful book to read for pleasure. Each recipe is introduced by its contributor, with stories of family members, different cultures, and the wide array of lived experiences you’ll find in any built up area. Woolf herself shares her father’s story of moving to the UK. Elsewhere, Negat Hussein teaches the reader about Eritrean bun ceremonies, and Reena Anderson-Bickley reminisces about roadside picnics and aloo from a Thermos flask.
Unfortunately, the design of Eat Share Love is consistently over-crowded. In an effort to include everybody’s stories, the type is tiny, and often forced to share a page with the recipe itself. Snuggle down under the sheets to peruse the introductions, but make sure you have extra-strong reading glasses nearby.
How annoyingly vague are the recipes? The problem with a collaborative book is that, unless your editor is really on the ball, the quality of the writing can be incredibly inconsistent. I had a go at Maria’s Cypriot Antinaxto Krasato, supplied here by Athanasis Lazarides.
Lazarides describes his recipe as ‘written by an artisan, not a professional’, and it’s a good warning: the instructions read as though they are being given by a grandmother who is a little annoyed to have you in the kitchen with her. During the entire process we are given no distinct times or temperatures. Ingredients are listed in metric, but we’re told we can add more red wine more or less on our own personal whim. Credit to Lazarides, though, the end result was rich and moreish.
Will I have trouble finding the ingredients? To its credit, Eat Share Love manages to offer up an international array of recipes using ingredients that can almost entirely be sourced from your local supermarket.
What will I love? Though the globe-trotting means the book often feels as though it lacks any coherency or direction, it does uncover a fantastic selection of really interesting foods. There are some familiar dishes here, but many of the ideas were completely new to me. There’s nothing worse than an international cookbook that throws out the same ideas you’ve seen a dozen times before, and that’s not a problem in Eat Share Love.
What won’t I love? The design of the book is absolutely terrible. Pages are clogged up with photos of family members, leaving so little room for the recipes that everything is packed into dense word blocks. This is bad enough when you’re browsing an introduction, but can make missing an ingredient all too easy as well.
Also, that title: a personal gripe, maybe, but I prefer my cookbooks not to sound like something I might see on a fridge magnet at a garden centre, or hanging from the wall of a kitchen that is otherwise decorated entirely in shades of grey.
Should I buy it? It’s tough to review anything with so much good intention behind it, but Eat Share Love is an imperfect collection that scatters through a few delicious treats. If you’ve money to spare, then there’s no harm in supporting what 91 Ways are doing. But if you’re looking for an intuitive cookbook that’s easy to read and navigate, you’ll be better off looking elsewhere.
Cuisine: International Suitable for: Beginner and confident home cooks Cookbook Review Rating: Two stars
Buy this book: Eat Share Love by Kalpna Woolf
£22, Meze Publishing
Review written by Stephen Rötzsch Thomas a Nottingham-based writer. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @srotzschthomas
Eat Share Love has been shortlisted for the Andre Simon Food and Drink Book Awards 2022
What’s the USP? The front cover of Melissa Thompson’s Motherland describes it as ‘A Jamaican Cookbook’, which is something of an understatement, all things considered. Motherland is a cookbook, yes, and it shares with its reader the food and recipes that feed and fuel Jamaicans each day. But it also shares something more than that: a history, both political and cultural, and an addressing of the many factors that create a modern cuisine.
Who wrote it? Thompson is a food writer who regularly pops up in weekend papers and glossy food magazines. Born in Dorset to a Jamaican father and a Maltese mother, this is her first cookbook. There will be no complaints if she chooses to publish a dozen more.
Is it good bedtime reading?Motherland is excellent, if not happy, bedtime reading. In Thompson’s introduction to the book she describes it as ‘a history of the people, influences and ingredients that uniquely united to create the wonderful patchwork cuisine that is Jamaican food today’. This history is scattered throughout the book – partly through the short introductions to each recipe, but mostly through powerful essays that are not afraid to cover the ground our school educations often ignore. These sections do not make for light reading, emotionally, but are fascinating and rich with a love and respect for the native people of Jamaica and its fellow Caribbean islands.
How annoyingly vague are the recipes? Thompson is descriptive without being prescriptive – the perfect balance. Here we have a book that accounts for the way real ingredients might vary, and offers crisp and clear instruction on turning the food you have at hand into something that is more than the sum of its parts.
Will I have trouble finding the ingredients? The eternal question of where to find great cuts of meat remains for many, so you may stumble in your quest for oxtail, mutton or goat. And while many supermarkets still lack the likes of breadfruit and yams, they’re still easy enough to find if you look for a good international market. Otherwise, the majority of dishes here are well within reach.
What’s the faff factor? Thompson is serving up some real comfort foods here, and comfort foods usually go one of two directions. You’ve got your slow and steady options – stews and roasts that you can more or less leave to themselves. From the Red Peas Soup to Roast Chicken with Thyme & Grapefruit, there’s plenty of those on offer. And then you’ve got the fried goodness. These dishes, be they Ginger Beer Prawns, Sticky Rum & Tamarind Wings or Curry Fried Chicken are definitely a faff, but might also be the most delicious things in here.
How often will I cook from the book? This could easily be in regular rotation in your kitchen. Thompson’s ideas are fun, flavoursome and – importantly – varied. There are all the dishes you that may first leap to mind when you think of Jamaican cooking (jerk, curry goat, and even a recipe for homemade ginger beer), but also a wealth of discoveries to be made.
Should I buy it? If you’re looking for a book that delivers real gastronomical insight as well as deeply flavoursome dishes to bring real cosiness to your kitchen, this is a great way into Jamaican cuisine. If you aren’t looking for that, there’s no helping you.
Cuisine: Jamaican Suitable for: Beginner and confident home cooks Cookbook Review Rating: Five stars
Lune: Croissants All Day, All Night – to which is there any other answer than, yes please? Making croissants is something I’ve always thought best left to the professionals. It’s a fine art and while not rocket science, there’s definitely crossover: one requires precision, delicacy and an intricate understanding of weight and heat distribution; the other is rocket science. Kate Reid, owner and author of Lune, originally worked as an aerospace engineer for the Williams Formula 1 Team before a trip to Paris convinced her to apply her skillset to making croissants. Over a decade later, Lune has multiple venues in Australia, queues of people willing to wait hours to try their products and as of last year, a debut cookbook.
Reid has talked at length at how the two seemingly distinct career paths have benefited one another. She compares Lune to a “croissant Formula 1 team”, being driven by a need for an experimental and results driven approach in the pursuit of excellence. The book wears its engineering influences quite literally on its sleeve: starting with the croissant-shaped spaceship logo, a sleek black and reflective silver design, high contrast photography and a rigorously assembled ingredients list and methodology. Recipes are broadly listed by what time of day to have them, from Breakfast to Dinner, all the times in between and interspersed with personal stories of establishing Lune.
The golden thread throughout the book is the croissant dough. Once made, it can be applied to numerous different pastry recipes ranging from croissants, cruffins, danishes, escargots and more. Alongside the classics, are inventive recipes like Chocolate Plum Sake Danishes or Beef Bourguignon croissants. The book gets this out of the way early and it’s only fair I should too: you will not be travelling at speed. It will take at least 48 hours over the course of three days and a decent amount of effort to produce a single batch. Croissant casuals need not apply.
Day one requires a morning making a poolish and an afternoon bringing the dough together. Day two is lamination, the process of layering butter and pastry that gives croissants their flaky layers and if laminated in the morning, can then be shaped in the evening. Day three calls for a 2am start (spoiler: I did not get up at 2am), proving the croissants for five hours before baking to have with breakfast.
It is as time consuming as the book assures you it is but the dough recipe is so exacting, with photographs accompanying every step and measurements to the centimetre and gram there is little scope to go wrong. It is entirely worth the effort. I bake mine at a much more reasonable 1pm, filling the house with croissant pheromones that continually entice us back into the kitchen to check on their progress. The results are ethereal wonders, so lovingly formed and delicate I consider making an application for a UNESCO heritage listing to preserve them forever. They taste even better, as if they descended fully formed, a divine aura sailing them gracefully into my mouth.
Thankfully, the dough recipe returns enough for five batches and leaves plenty of opportunity to explore other pastries. The Cacio e Pepe Escargot is as lavish as its namesake. Danishes filled with strawberries and a burnt miso caramel custard are a rollercoaster of sweet and savoury. Cruffins are surprisingly easy to assemble and, in less of a shock, absolutely magnificent when filled with a peanut butter crème pâtissière and jam.
There are some small barriers to entry, investments in both time and equipment being examples. If you’re already a home baker, you’ll likely have the essentials to make the dough but for certain recipes, you’ll need more bespoke items like small, square silicone moulds for danish pastries. However, I didn’t have some of these and used the best equivalent I could find. The results were, admittedly, misshapen but no less delicious for it.
One of the many joys of this book is its laser focus. All of the recipes start from the same place – the croissant dough – which you’re going to learn to do very well and then apply it in an abundance of wildly inventive recipes. It’s refreshing to be encouraged to hone a craft, that yes, this is a practice of patience and discipline but it’s worth doing well. And once mastered, it can be taken in any creative direction you like – the sky’s the limit as they say, though I think Lune makes me want to shoot for the moon.
Cuisine: International Suitable for: Confident home cooks/professional chefs Cookbook Review Rating: Five stars
Jeremy Lee is one of the shortlisted authors in the food category of this year’s Andre Simon Awards for his marvellous debut Cooking. Dundee born Jeremy Lee one of London’s most celebrated chef and heads up the kitchens at Quo Vadis restaurant and club in London’s bustling Soho. He was previously the head chef of Sir Terence Conran’s Blueprint Cafe in Shad Thames and at Euphorium in Islington where he first came to national attention (Independent news paper critic Emily Bell said that Lee ‘delivers flavour like Oliver Stone serves up violence’, a very 1995 sort of thing to say). Working backwards in time, Lee also cooked at Alistair Little at 49 Frith Street (now home to Hoppers Sri Lankan restaurant and just a ladle’s throw from Quo Vadis in Dean Street) and at Bibendum in South Kensington for Simon Hopkinson.
Cooking has quite rightly been described by ESQUIRE magazine as ‘cookbook of the year’ and also ‘long awaited’ which is equally true. What took you so long!
Ah, you are too kind. This was a greatly appreciated gong. Oh golly, so many factors contributed to the time taken, not least building the confidence to realise that not all had been written about food as food evolves constantly as does cooking, ingredients and seasons. It took so long finding the path that would include, Mum and Dad, childhood, home, becoming a chef and the extraordinary learning curve required to acquire the knowledge to run a kitchen, write menus and find the produce with which to furnish the kitchen to produce the dishes. The book was not so different. It was also hugely impactful learning that writing a book and running a kitchen were not the easiest of bedfellows, played a considerable role in a lengthy delay.
The book is very distinctive, in terms of writing style, content and design. Was it a conscious decision to try and do something different or just the way the book turned out?
Ah, thank you. In truth, the arbitrary approach seemed to fall quite naturally on the pages. There was always just the great hope the book would be good but there was never really a structured plan, more an instinctive and intuitive feeling that grew exponentially as the book progressed. I have written much for newspapers and journals but had never written on this scale. The most fascinating thing was the realisation that the book had to feel quite natural and pleasing.
I’ve had the good fortune to see chef’s kitchen ‘recipes’ in situ which are often no more than a list of ingredients and weights if they are even written down. The recipes in Cooking are brilliantly written for the home cook and work perfectly in the domestic kitchen. Did that take some mental re-wiring on your part to see things from the home cook’s perspective?
Ah, years of writing columns for the Guardian, other broadsheets and a fair few journals had taught me much. The most important quality was a genuine and honest approach avoiding myriad pitfalls. Most importantly, taking nothing for granted and ensuring a place in the finished manuscript. There were too a wealth of memories from years watching my Granny and my Mum in the kitchen cooking for her family which were easily tapped being buried deep in our, my siblings and my subconscious.
I’m guessing that you had a lot of recipes to draw on for the book, how did you go about narrowing down the selection?
Oh that was fun, I would say, mostly trial and the occasional error. Writing a menu, you only ever choose dishes you want to cook and eat yourself. It was the same with the book. Some old, some new, some constant, some occasionally. It seemed natural to pay homage to the great writers, cooks, chefs, restaurants, suppliers and producers enjoyed over the years with a growing awareness of being in the now and dishes that would continue to please. Louise Haines who had commissioned and was to publish the book and Carolyn who edited the book were brilliant at steering with the most subtle of quiet comments ensured nothing went in that had not been fully considered and put down on paper fully. Many chapters grew wildly such as fish, a chapter that could have been twice the size until Louise calmly explained about the flow and balance of the chapters.
What are your three favourite recipes in the book or recipes that best represent your style of cooking for readers who might be new to your food?
Oh no, terrible ask. I love them all. It’s like someone in the dining room asking what they should order. Were I to choose, eek, then, roast leg of pork with bitter leaves, onions and sage might be one, another might be steamed kid pudding and probably that good friend, a smoked eel sandwich. But oh, there are so many more.
You’ve done some TV (Great British Menu obviously but I also remember a magazine programme on Channel 4 I think to which you contributed recipe demonstrations including what I recall as an historic version of mushrooms on toast – hope I haven’t misremembered that!) but isn’t it high time you had your own series? Could Cooking be the perfect springboard for that?
Oh Telly…well thank you, you certainly know how to make a cook blush. I love telly and think often of Michael Smith, Claudia Roden and Madhur Jaffrey who presented cooking with such ease, charm and style. Should the stars align, perhaps something charming in the loveliest kitchen with the glorious family we made when turning a manuscript into a book?
What does being shortlisted for the Andre Simon award mean to you?
Oh my goodness, such a nomination means the world. I have judged books several times and it is a task not taken lightly. I know well from my time as adjudicator that each book had to be scrutinised and each decision made, justified to a scrupulous committee. When the judgement of the judge is under scrutiny , oh lordy, one must be so sure and say so. So this is truly a very great honour and I could not bow lower.
What is your desert island cookbook?
Oh my, there are so many. Yet there is always a pile of constant favourites and I think, the one forever on the or near the top is French Provincial Cooking, beside Italian Food by Elizabeth David. Peerless.
Cooking has been a big success, are you planning a follow up?
Thank you. Tis such a great honour. And, well, as it happens, there is to be another ,4th Estate having just commissioned a second book. We barely touched on puddings, and I can say no more as the scraps of paper covered in thoughts once again litter desk and floor at home.
Two of my friends, Jack and Harry, are brothers. Sometimes it seems as though Jack and Harry have very little in common, besides the fact that they are both singer-songwriters with a satisfying mid-Wales accent. But the truth, of course, is that they share many traits. Perhaps the biggest of these: they each are blessed with a confidence in their own opinions hitherto not seen outside of the central residence of Vatican City.
In most folk, this sort of conviction of belief might come across as arrogant. But Jack and Harry deliver their righteous indignation with a charm and a knowing sense of silliness. After all, absolutely nothing Jack or Harry share their opinions on actually matters, and I think they know it. And so I’m able to enjoy the ludicrous confidence I am faced with as they pretend the first three Billy Joel albums don’t exist, or chastise me for having the audacity to drink Orangina despite not being a Parisian schoolboy. None of this matters. It’s all just supplementary colour; decoration to a life well lived.
Andy Baraghani’s The Cook You Want To Be reminds me a little of Jack and Harry. Baraghani, who trained at Chez Panisse before working for Bon Appétit as a Senior Food Editor, is perhaps as present in his cookbook as any food writer has ever been. Yes, the cookbook can be an intensely personal literary form, and writers like Nigel Slater have made a career out of delivering food-forward diaries. But Baraghani somehow moves beyond this. He is more than the author of The Cook You Want To Be; he is an ingredient in each recipe, his opinions and obsessions worn on his turmeric-stained sleeves.
From the very outset, Baraghani writes with passion and walks a tightrope of self-awareness. The book’s title often seems like a deliberate misdirection – though his advice frequently encourages the reader to grow and develop as a cook, it is only rarely that we aren’t pressed in very specific directions. We are told which brand of Japanese mandoline to use, we are gently pushed to use more herbs, teased if we don’t love garlic. Is this The Cook You Want To Be or The Cook Andy Baraghani Wants You To Be? Does it really matter, when the food tastes this good?
And the food does taste good, that much is not in doubt. Baraghani’s dishes draw heavily on his Persian background, his training at Chez Panisse, and what he eats at home. The result is a book that is, not unlike the author, unpretentious but still a little showy. Take the Buttery Beef and Peanut Stir-fry, which I knocked up on a weekday evening in less than half an hour. Twenty minutes of that was marinating time. The final dish was scrappy-looking but full of depth of flavour. The sort of thing that will catch a visiting friend off-guard, which is possibly the best thing one can do when cooking for someone else. Surprise: this is incredible.
Dishes are split into sections with tellingly possessive titles (‘Snacks to Share… or Not’, ‘Soup Obsessed’, ‘Fish, I Love You’), but the real theme here is always Baraghani’s tastes and desires. Some of my favourite cookbooks are those that focus solely on what the author loves best, from Neil Perry’s Everything I Love To Cook to Colu Henry’s Colu Cooks. But it doesn’t work if the author doesn’t have anything fresh or exciting to put on the table. Baraghani has plenty, and there’s often a tantalising stickiness to his dishes, be they Caramelized Sweet Potatoes with Browned Butter Harissa or Jammy Egg and Scallion Sandwiches. The food here celebrates itself and asks to be relished, to be wolfed down and savoured, lips and fingertips licked for every last speck.
There are irresistible vegetable dishes tucked amongst the sticky goodness and the self-assured writing (“When you make this dish (not if)’, “I wish you could press a button on this page and hear the sound effects of how I feel about this recipe”). From Roasted Carrots with Hot Green Tahini to Fall-Apart Caramelized Cabbage Smothered in Anchovies and Dill, Baraghani is constantly encouraging you to rediscover the most common of ingredients.
The Cook You Want To Be is one of those most glorious of things: a cookbook with real character. Baraghani’s presence is so keenly felt on every page – there’s no dry, anonymous advice here. Everything is served with a little slice of a big personality. And it’s a joy to see this singular vision place so much importance upon something with such low stakes because cooking like this doesn’t really matter, not really. Like all the little things Jack and Harry have needlessly precise opinions on, nothing in this book is a matter of life and death. But finding joy in this small, delicious stuff: that’s what makes life matter in the first place.
Cuisine: International Suitable for: Beginner and confident home cooks Cookbook Review Rating: Five stars
What’s the USP? Somewhat delightfully, there isn’t one. There’s no tortuous concept or shoehorned-in theme. There’s no claim of quick and easy recipes, that it’s the only cookbook you’ll ever need or that it’s yet another of that irksome and ubiquitous ilk, the cookbook for ‘every day’. As Robert de Niro once memorably stated in The Deer Hunter ‘This is this. This ain’t somethin’ else. This is this.’ It’s a cookbook. It’s a very good cookbook written by an outstanding chef with thirty years of knowledge, experience and wisdom he’s like to share with you. What else do you need?
Who is the author? Dundee born Jeremy Lee is the head chef of Quo Vadis restaurant and club in London’s bustling Soho. He was previously the head chef of Sir Terence Conran’s Blueprint Cafe in Shad Thames and at Euphorium in Islington where he first came to national attention (Independent news paper critic Emily Bell said that Lee ‘delivers flavour like Oliver Stone serves up violence’, a very 1995 sort of thing to say). Working backwards in time, Lee also cooked at Alistair Little at 49 Frith Street (now home to Hoppers Sri Lankan restaurant and just a ladle’s throw from Quo Vadis in Dean Street) and at Bibendum in South Kensington for Simon Hopkinson. There’s more, but you can buy the book to find it out (spoiler alert, you really should buy the book). Surprisingly, Cooking is Lee’s first cookbook.
Is it good bedtime reading? It is. There’s a reasonably chunky introduction that skips and hops briefly through Lee’s background and culinary career as well as some thoughts on his approach to food and cooking in general. Each of the 24 chapters, themed most around ingredients, includes a full page or so of introduction and many of the 100 or so recipes have substantial intros. There are also a couple of essays, one on equipment and one on stocking your pantry. That’s how you end up with a 400 hundred page book.
Will I have trouble finding the ingredients? The first line of the book reads ‘The simple truth I’ve learned from a lifetime of cooking is that good food is honed from fine ingredients.’ The simple truth that I’ve learned from a lifetime of shopping at supermarkets is that last thing they sell is fine ingredients. I mean, they’re fine for plebs like us, but they’re not fine. The likelihood is that you’ll be able to get most things that Lee cooks with in the book, but probably not of the same quality, unless you live somewhere that has great butchers, fishmongers, greengrocers and delis. You know, central London.
Some ingredients that might prove tricky if you are reliant on Lidl (or even Waitrose) might include fresh artichokes, samphire, monk’s bread, Tropea onions, Roscoff onions, Treviso, Tardivo, Banyuls vinegar ‘very, very good chicken’, ‘excellent duck’. marjoram, summer savory, Agen prunes, fennel pollen, herring, fresh mackerel, whole lemon sole, cuttlefish, verdina beans, skate knobs, cockles, Arbroath smokies, razor clams, smoked eel, quail, onglet, lamb’s sweetbreads, feuilles de brick, kid, hare, dandelion, puntarelle, Catalonga, lovage, salsify and sorrel.
That might seem like a long list, but do not let it put you off buying the book. Help is of course at hand from specialist internet suppliers and, post pandemic, it’s now easier than ever to get hold of excellent quality fresh fish, meat, vegetables and groceries delivered to your door (for a price of course). The excellent list of stockists at the back of the book will be extremely useful to many readers. There are also many recipes that you will be able to source ingredients for with no trouble or you will be able to make substitutions with reasonable ease.
How annoyingly vague are the recipes? There is the odd ‘handful’ of this and ‘pinch’ of that, but they are few and far between. Methods are as well written as you might expect of such a well experienced chef and are as detailed as they need to be and easy to follow.
How often will I cook from the book? A lot. There’s pretty much a dish for every occasion, every time of day and every cook’s mood. There’s maple walnut biscuits breakfast or mid-morning coffee, chard and cheddar omelette for a quick lunch and chicken leek and tarragon pie for a comforting dinner. There a simple as can be puntarelle and anchovy salad for when time is short or a cottage pie made with braised oxtails for when you want to linger in the kitchen. Lee is also particularly good on baking, desserts and sweet things in general so expect an apple tart in your future soon.
However, this is a resolutely British and European book; a pinch of chilli flakes or a few drop of tabasco is about as spicy as things get. There are no modish Middle Eastern influences and India, Asia and South America don’t get a look in. Lee knows what he likes and sticks to it which gives the book a very strong identity. Cooking doesn’t cover every conceivable culinary base, but that’s no bad thing at all. There are many, many books available that will fill those particular needs, just have a browse around this site. Cooking is not an encyclopaedia of the subject but ‘home cooking rediscovered after a lifetime spent in professional cooking’ and all the better for it.
What will I love? You’ll recognise John Broadley’s intricate yet bold black and white illustrations from the menus at Quo Vadis if you’ve been fortunate enough to visit the restaurant (and if you haven’t, I’d highly recommend rectifying that particular situation, especially now as the restaurant has just been refurbished and expanded). They are a complete joy and give the book a unique style.
Lee’s writing style is also highly individual and charming. He has a turn of phrase like no other food writer. A spiced marmalade steamed pudding is ‘made bold with whole ginger and a spice’ and breadcrumbs are fashioned from ‘husks, heels and buckshee slices of bread’. Open the book at random and you’ll find sentences such as ‘I like the Presbyterian forthrightness of leek pie’ or ‘It is near miraculous how much water is released from the chard but perseverance pays a fine dividend’. There’s a kind of effortless poetry on every page that’s utterly delightful and doesn’t feel in the slightest bit forced. Within a single paragraph, Lee can be informative, instructional and celebratory; that’s fine food writing.
Killer recipes: salmagundy (warm roast chicken salad with summer slaw); maple walnut biscuits; chard potato and celeriac gratin; St Emilion au chocolat; hake with parsley, dill and anchovy sauce; smoked eel sandwich; lamb’s sweetbreads, peas, almonds and herbs; duck pea and cabbage hash (the list goes on…)
Should I buy it? With Cooking, Lee has joined the pantheon of great British food writers that includes Jane Grigson, Sophie Grigson, Elizabeth David, Alan Davidson, Alistair Little, Richard Whittington, Shaun Hill, Stephen Bull, Mark Hix and others. It might be reminiscent of older books, but in the current publishing climate, it’s a breath of fresh air. Rather than advising you on hints and tips that will enable you to spend the least amount of time as possible in your kitchen, Cooking is aimed at a readership that actually enjoys the craft and are happily chained to their stoves (you won’t find air fryer or slow cooker recipes here).
Cooking is worth the cover price just to learn how to cook chard properly. But you will learn so much more including the virtues of making a properly good vegetable salad, how to lift the flavour of a rustic kale soup with a spoon of new season Tuscan olive oil and how to make ‘coupe Danemark’ – a delicious yet simple dessert made from chocolate melted with cream, poured over vanilla ice cream and topped with nuts. Cooking is also full of intriguing kitchen miscellanea. Did you know a wishbone used to be known as the ‘merry thought’? Or that there’s a variety of potato called ‘Mr Little’s Yetholm Gypsy 1899’? Of course you didn’t. That’s why you need to buy this book. A genuine pleasure to cook from and to read, Cooking is an essential addition to any keen home cook or professional chef’s cookbook collection.
Cuisine: European Suitable for: Confident home cooks/professional chefs Cookbook Review Rating: Five stars
What’s the USP? Phaidon are back with the latest addition to their ever-expanding range of globally-inspired cookbooks. Previous entries have included hefty volumes on the food of Latin America, Greece, Mexico and Lebanon, but this time round we’re focusing a little closer to home.
The British Cookbook delivers exactly what it promises: around 550 recipes drawn from across the United Kingdom. This means there’s plenty of room for all the obvious regional specialties (Staffordshire Oatcakes, Sussex Pond Pudding) and a wealth of niche little wonders you may never have heard of (Singin’ Hinnies, Bara Sinsir, or Beesting Pudding, which has absolutely nothing to do with bees).
Who wrote it? Ben Mervis, a Philadelphian native who moved to Glasgow for university and never left. Well, except for his turn in the kitchens at Noma. A man with culinary pedigree, then, and a good deal of love for the food of his adopted home. Mervis has drawn this book together over several years, whittling down from a preliminary list of around 1,500 recipes to bring us this final selection. The recipes themselves have been contributed by a mixture of ‘food writers, chefs, bakers and home cooks’.
Is it good bedtime reading? Phaidon’s international cookbooks rarely are, being so focused on the delivery of hundreds of recipes. Mervis offers up an interesting introductory essay on the meaning of ‘British food’, and there’s a short foreword by man of the hour Jeremy Lee, the one voice in British cooking who seems truly inescapable right now.
Though hardly enough to count as bedtime reading, credit is due to Mervis for his recipe introductions. Phaidon’s titles often skip these altogether, leaving readers baffled over the difference between various Mexican moles that they’ve never previously encountered, nor fully understand. Mervis provides short introductions for every recipe in the book, though. These offer valuable insights into the history of the dish, the best way to serve it, or the colonial influences that often crop up.
How annoyingly vague are the recipes? Mervis delivers again with precise instructions that will even go so far as to define a ‘splash of buttermilk’ for those who aren’t content to judge for themselves (about 20ml, he reckons). Measurements are provided in imperial and metric as well.
Efforts have been made to highlight dietary concerns in each dish, with small symbols denoting whether it will be suitable for vegetarians, vegans, or those suffering from intolerances to gluten, nuts or dairy. This is a thoughtful touch that would be very welcome across the rest of the series.
Will I have trouble finding the ingredients? For the most part, no. Occasionally you may find yourself in need of a good butcher, but besides that everything should be within reach.
What’s the faff factor? We are a nation in love with a good stew, and so there are plenty of recipes here that require a few hours. But for the most part, Mervis strives for simplicity. Alongside the legends denoting dietary concerns there are also symbols highlighting one-pot dishes, as well as those featuring five ingredients or fewer, or deliverable in under half an hour.
How often will I cook from the book? This will come down to very personal preferences. I grew up in a house where 90% of our dinners would have been considered ‘British’, and have responded as an adult by returning to the national cuisine once a week at the very most. But if you’ve a taste for the comforting treats of our home nation, there’s more than enough here to keep you very happy. Mervis’ choice to include dishes we’ve stolen or co-opted from nations we’ve invaded in our past means there’s more variety than the average British cookbook too.
Killer recipes: Tweed kettle, Mussel popcorn, Stargazey pie, Pastai persli, Flummery, Sauty bannocks, Goosenargh cakes and Cumberland rum nicky – there are so many delicious dishes here, sometimes it’s easiest just to hone in on the ones with the most satisfying names.
Should I buy it? It’s no secret that British food has long been maligned as drab and lacking joy. The past thirty years or so has seen us throw everything we have at dispelling this myth, and we’re finally at a point where London is seen as one of the great food cities of the world, and a cooking show is one of our biggest cultural exports. Hopefully Ben Mervis’s excellent book can act as our closing argument, then. By digging deep into the food of our small nation, Mervis has highlighted the variety of flavours we have to offer. From national dishes to delicacies originating from the smallest of villages, The Great British Cookbook delivers the benchmark by which all other Phaidon cookbooks should be measured.
Cuisine: British Suitable for: Beginner and confident home cooks Cookbook Review Rating: Five stars
What’s the USP? Emma Warren’s third cookbook proudly declares to eschew many of the most famous dishes of Spain, the country she has called home for the best part of twenty years. Instead, Spanish at Home explores food popular in domestic kitchens across the country. It’s a nice idea, if one that immediately lends itself to a sort of fantasy. Homecooking, after all, is a concept leaden with romanticism and nostalgia.
We have our own language to describe the food cooked at home. It is honest, and ‘humble’ – another term whose meaning shifts dramatically depending on who is being asked. Home cooking – at least, the concept of ‘home cooking’ that so often is championed in cookbooks, is fuelled as much by the loving intentions of the person making the food as it is by the electricity or gas that powers the stove itself. And so Spanish at Home is about the food made in home kitchens across the length and breadth of Spain – drawing on the ‘generous hospitality’ that Warren has experienced during her time in the country.
Is it good bedtime reading? There are a few short chapter introductions throughout, and a paragraph or so ahead of each individual recipe. Though these are brief, Warren writes enthusiastically, and occasionally slips in little nuggets of information for extra flavour. Nevertheless, this is a book that is intended to be opened on the kitchen counter rather than underneath a bedside lamp.
Will I have trouble finding the ingredients? Unfortunately, I suspect sourcing all the ingredients for dishes featured in Spanish at Home will often seem out of reach. Food writing frequently champions home cooking as though it is one thing that unites us all: our desire to offer good food to the people closest to us. And the sentiment is, I suppose, ultimately true. Whether we cook alone with the kids in the other room, or together as part of a large community, the food we make at home seeks to build up our loved ones, to give them strength and ensure that they are healthy.
But this idea, life-affirming though it might be, doesn’t change the fact that nations differ greatly. Spain is not far from the UK, in the grand scheme of things, but many of the ingredients here will not be practical for home cooks looking to replicate these Spanish dishes.
Sometimes this is a matter of sourcing. The difficulty of finding certain fresh seafood in the UK is not a problem unique to Spanish at Home. I can get my head around the absence of cuttlefish from our high street food retailers, but until very recently it was much simpler to buy fresh mussels that had not been vacuum-packed with a ready-made cream sauce, and I don’t know quite what’s changed there. But difficulty here is not solely the fault of UK retailers: ‘chicken ribs’ feel like a fairly niche ask for the Arroz del Campo, and as the recipe lists other ingredients including rabbit and snail, it is plausible that the recipe will never be in serious contention in any home, at least in its intended form.
Mostly, though, the barrier to getting your hands on all the necessary ingredients will be your budget. Perhaps, in Spain, meat is distinctly cheaper. Perhaps Emma Warren’s experiences of Spanish home cooking have mostly occurred in the houses of well-off families. Whatever the case, something has been lost in translation. These dishes, though desperately good-looking, are also frequently very costly.
Take one of the highlights of the book, for instance: the Ragú de Cordero. Captured by Rochelle Eagle’s sumptuous photography, it should be hard to resist. But once you spot that the recipe (to serve four) calls for both a kilogram of boneless lamb shoulder and a supplementary rack of lamb, the average reader may be less tempted. Readers may not even get to the point where the recipe requires ownership of a bottle of Cognac to finish the dish.
For another exquisitely presented dish, Carrilleras de Cerdo, Warren espouses the affordable virtues of pig cheeks – but short of one extraordinary trip to a Morrison’s in Brighton (also in Waitrose sometimes -ed.), I have never seen this cut of meat outside of a butcher shop. Calling around the butchers of Nottingham, I’ve yet to find it in any of those, either.
How often will I cook from the book? Clearly, not as much as you might like to. But that isn’t to say all hope is lost. There are still plenty of (mostly vegetable-led) dishes that are entirely accessible to British home cooks, from minestrone soup to panzanella salads. The patatas bravas, served with two homemade sauces, were absolutely gorgeous when I made them, and those looking to experience something truly unique would be well advised to try the Arroz Cubano, which somehow allows banana, fried egg, tomato and rice to team up in perfect unison.
Killer recipes: Beans in salsa ‘gravy’, beef fricassee, red wine-poached pears and saffron ice cream.
Should I buy it? Ultimately, the problems with Spanish at Home are not problems with Spanish at Home. Instead, they are problems with our over-reliance on supermarkets, the increasingly homogenised range of meats available to us, and, importantly, with the romanticised view we have of home cooking. When we talk about home cooking in £26 cookbooks exploring other cuisines with hungry eyes, we are talking about the food we make at home when we most want to impress. Food that takes a lot of time or a huge wealth of ingredients. When we talk amongst friends about home cooking, we think of the simplest of dishes, and of cuts of meat that are frugal, yes, but also accessible. I would dearly love to eat a great deal of the recipes in Spanish at Home, but the home we are given access to here is, generally speaking, not one I will be able to visit nearly as frequently as I might like.
Cuisine: Spanish Suitable for: Confident home cooks Cookbook Review Rating: Three stars
A friend does a great impression of a former housemate. It’s at exactly the moment they realise it’s much quicker to make mashed potatoes by chopping it into smaller bits first, rather than boiling one giant potato and mashing it whole. We’ve all been there. A fizzle and a crack as old neurons make new connections, a deluge of endorphins, a brief moment of shame and eureka: a higher plane of consciousness.
Get used to this feeling reading The Wok, a book of such astonishing detail and craft that comparisons to other weighty tomes like encyclopaedias seem somehow derogatory. J. Kenji López-Alt has built his reputation on this meticulous, science-oriented approach to cooking and has seen him garner a huge online following with over a million subscribers to his excellent YouTube channel as well as regular contributions to major publications and a growing collection of cookbooks.
His latest is substantial in both size and scope. Physically, it’s the sort of thing that used to be compared to the Yellow Pages but now is probably more like a stack of iPads. Though the heft is a reward for the sheer breadth of information found on its pages, ranging from the basics of stir-frying and chopping all the way to Scoville units and the glutamic acid content of certain foods.
Woks are versatile creatures and the chapters reflect this, being summarised by either ways of cooking with a wok, like Stir-Frying, Braising or Deep Frying or cooking with wok-centric ingredients like Rice or Noodles. Each chapter mingles technique, scientific explanations and applicable recipes like in the section dedicated to stir-frying chicken for instance, you will find an explanation for velveting, the scientific reasoning behind it and then a recipe for Sweet and Sour Chicken.
If you’ve ever enjoyed something cooked with a wok whether from China, Japan, Thailand or even at your local takeaway, it’s likely to be here. There’s recipes for ramen, tempura, dumplings, curries, all types of noodles, classic takeaway meals, traditional dishes, oils, and condiments. The recipes are written with such exacting measurements and instructions it’s almost impossible to get wrong and are so precise, you’re often told exactly where to place the ingredients into the wok (swirl your sauce around the side!). Trust in the process and it’ll deliver probably the best homemade version of that particular dish you could hope for.
The book has elevated every part of my cooking with a wok. Dishes like Fried Rice, Dan Dan Noodles, Pad See Ew and Lo Mein that benefit from the turbocharged gas burners in restaurants were as good of an approximation I could have wished to achieve at home (I’ve yet to try the suggestion of using a blow torch to achieve more authentic results). Recipes less demanding of high heat like Kung Pao Chicken, Khai Jiao (Thai-Style Omelette), Mapo Tofu and Soy Glazed Mushrooms were all exceptional. Better still, The Wok has improved my cooking even when not following the book. Using the lessons learned like the specific size of the vegetables, the order of cooking the ingredients or how you heat the oil has meant the quick Tuesday night stir-fry is as good as it’s ever been.
There’s no avoiding The Wok is theory heavy, more a Cook’s Book than a cookbook. Scientific explanations are almost always lurking over the next page and how much you engage with these will depend on your appetite for it. They are tiny marvels in themselves, using a data and process driven approach to justify any conclusions though personally, I find overly academic accounts of kitchen alchemy can leave me a little cold, like gazing at a rainbow and being told it’s just water drops and light dispersion, actually.
This however, is a pocket-sized gripe. Much like López-Alt’s The Food Lab, Samin Nosrat’s Salt, Fat, Acid, Heatand Harold McGee’s On Food and Cooking, The Wok is a book that isn’t content with showing you how, it wants to show you why. Sure, you can teach a man to fish but you could also show him how salt interacts with protein on a molecular level until he makes the best Kung Pao Prawns this side of the river. For a little time and energy, this is a book that will change how you cook for a lifetime.
Cuisine: International Suitable for: Confident home cooks/Professional chefs Cookbook Review Rating: Five stars
What’s the USP? Michelin-starred chef shares recipes inspired by dishes developed for his restaurant’s home meal delivery service that launched during the pandemic so you can create a bit of fine dining glamour in your own home without too much fuss.
Who wrote it? Described by The Times as “the godfather of modern Birmingham food”, Andreas Antona is a legend of the British fine dining scene. His flagship restaurant Simpsons opened back in 1993 and he now also runs The Cross in Kenilworth, also Michelin starred. He has mentored many award winning chefs that will be well known to keen British-based restaurant goers including Glynn Purnell, Adam Bennett, Luke Tipping, Andy Walters, Mark Fry, and Marcus and Jason Eaves. he was named restaurateur of the year in 2022 by industry bible The Caterer magazine.
Is it good bedtime reading? There’s an introduction in the form of an interview with Antona that will probably be of more interest to professional chefs than home cooks and that’s about it. There are no chapter introductions or even introductions to the recipes which seems a missed opportunity, given that Antona is one of the most experienced chefs in the country. A bit of hard-earned kitchen wisdom would have been very welcome.
Will I have trouble finding the ingredients? A good butcher, fishmonger, greengrocer , deli and specialist online suppliers will come in handy for things like guinea fowl, chicken livers, ox cheek, blade of beef, bone marrow, sea bream, turbot, halibut, hand-dived scallops, smoked cod’s roe, monkfish, sea bass, red mullet, Roscoff onions, linseeds, mushrooms including shimeji, girolle and hen of the woods, soya bean lecithin granules and xanthan gum. That may seem like a long list but the vast majority of ingredients will be easily obtainable from your local big supermarket. With a bit of thought, you should be able to make reasonable substitutes for most of the above named items too so there should be little to stand in your way making most if not all the recipes in the book.
How often will I cook from the book? It was about five minutes after the book was delivered that I started to write a shopping list for the first dish I wanted to cook from it. The food just looks so attractive and sounds so appealing that I wanted to give it all a go. Many of the recipes such as prawns with chilli, orzo and pesto or roast rump of Cornish lamb with peas a la Française, asparagus and roast potatoes are pretty straightforward and ideal for a mid-week meal.
That first recipe I tackled however turned out to be a bit more involved, but I couldn’t resist the idea of the sweet and sour tomatoes (marinated in honey, coriander seeds, rosemary, garlic, vanilla and sherry vinegar) that accompanied slow cooked beef cheek (I substituted some very nice braising steak) with courgettes, fried polenta, aubergine caviar and balsamic vinegar sauce made from the braising liquor. It was well worth the effort.
What will I love? The book’s bold and colourful graphic design and the clean and simple food styling and photography that really lets the dishes stand for themselves.
What won’t I love? Let’s get the price out of the way. Eureka costs £38 (plus £10 delivery charge!!) and is only available from the restaurant’s online store (linked below) or for £2 more, from the publishers site. That is a lot of money for a 224 page book with just 80 recipes. For comparison, Jeremy Lee’s recently published Cooking is nearly twice the length and has a cover price of £30, although at the time of writing is available for £15.
That makes some relatively minor shortcomings all the more difficult to stomach. Apart from being grouped into chapters headed starters, fish, meat, vegetables, desserts and staples and basics, recipes appear in almost random order. A starter of gem lettuce appears on page 42 and then another pops up ten pages later. Similarly you’ll find confit duck leg on page 108 and confit leg of duck on 122. The garnishes are different but its exactly the same recipe for the duck leg, so why not group them together? There are quite a few other similar examples. It’s a quibble, but it makes the book appear a little bit thrown together, as does the repetition of text in that otherwise lovely recipe for slow cooked ox cheek. If you follow the instructions as written, you’ll be roasting your aubergine for 30-40 minutes twice.
Another irritation is that the staples and basics recipes at the back of the book are reference in the main body of recipes but never by page number, only by chapter, so you have to search through the 18 page chapter to find them. One more annoyance is that it’s not until half way through the introduction that you learn that the book is named after the cooking school at Simpson’s restaurant which explains the otherwise mysterious title. It’s also not immediately obvious that the introduction is an interview with Antona as his name never appears in it. None of these complaints are significant but just a tiny bit more thought and care would have improved the reading experience greatly.
Killer recipes: Leek and potato soup with potato beignets and chive oil; warm Roscoff onion tartlet with herb salad, olive tapenade, lemon and herb crème fraîche; twice baked cheese souffle; scallops with sweetcorn chorizo and red pepper; slow cooked blade of Irish beef with horseradish cream cabbage, potato terrine and bone marrow sauce; Yorkshire rhubarb and ginger trifle.
Should I buy it? If you are happy to pay nearly £50 for 80 recipes then the answer is a hearty yes. If you are a competent cook and love preparing sophisticated, modern restaurant-style dishes at home then this collection will be right up your street with recipes more achievable than many others written by Michelin-starred chefs (I’m looking at you Rene Redzepi). If cost is consideration then you may want to think twice although you will be missing out on some great recipes.
Cuisine: International
Suitable for: Confident home cooks/Professional chefs
Cookbook Review Rating: Four stars
What’s the USP? Food is better in bowls. There. That’s your USP and, equally, my personal culinary manifesto as a millennial who can’t see his way to home ownership and so, for now, simply aspires to having a really nice set of pasta bowls, please and thank you. Bowlful focuses on a little more than the vessel your food arrives in, though, offering a collection of recipes with distinctly south-east Asian origins.
Who wrote it? Norman Musa, a Malaysian chef with a career that has consistently veered off in unexpected directions. Having moved to the UK in 1994 to study ‘Construction Management (Quantity Surveying)’, Musa didn’t turn his hand to cooking full-time for a decade. Since then he’s worked as a chef for Lotus’s Formula 1 team, popped up on your usual suspect weekend cooking shows here in the UK, and hosted a number of television series in his native Malaysia. Bowlfulis his fourth cookbook, and the second to have been published in English.
Is it good bedtime reading? Not particularly – but that’s not what Bowlful is here to do. The front cover pull-quote from Rukmini Iyer tells you everything you need to know, assuring us that the book is ‘certain to add flavour to your weeknight meal plan.’
Like Iyer’s own Roasting Tin series, Musa’s book isn’t meant to be pored over late into the night. Instead, it’s a collection of simple recipes for busy working families. An opportunity to brighten your life a little with quick and easy dinners that are full of flavour. Accordingly, the recipes themselves are short and sweet, and ask very little of the home cook.
Will I have trouble finding the ingredients? The past ten years in British supermarkets have been an absolute godsend for writers of Asian cookbooks. If you live near a Sainsburys or Asda big enough to host a modest collection of affordable clothing, chances are they also stock at least one small bottle of tamarind paste. Good god, you should see the big Sainsburys near me. Three or four aisles in the middle have more inclusive (and less problematic) cultural representation than the entirety of It’s A Small World. As well as extensive Indian, Caribbean, and Kosher sections, there’s a hefty Irish corner, and a stock of Japanese goods that includes Kewpie mayo and Nissin’s exceptional instant ramen. Tucked in the middle of all this, of course, is the real reward for those willing to explore cuisines beyond the Anglosphere – eight shelves stacked with kilogram bags of spices sold at the same price as Schwartz’s little bastard jars four aisles over. Anyway, what I’m getting at is this: kaffir lime leaves no longer present the same existential crisis to your dinner plans that they used to. You’ll be fine, bud.
How often will I cook from the book? The whole idea of Bowlful is that you can dip in readily and knock up something that will more than satisfy you on a Thursday evening after your second hour-long commute of the day. It’s easy to imagine dipping into this once a week, giving yourself little treats like the five-spice duck and kailan stir-fry that, though impressive and flavoursome, are only going to take up twenty minutes of your evening.
What will I love? By opting to cover the fairly broad area of South-East Asia, Musa gives himself plenty of room to manoeuvre. Bowlful has plenty of variety, from Burmese curries to Thai salads. Those really short on recipe collections to draw inspiration from could cook Musa’s dishes two or three times a week without things beginning to feel repetitive.
What won’t I love? Honestly, there aren’t many complaints to make here. This isn’t a book for those looking for great food writing, or even a lot of insight into the cultural history of the dishes on offer. But as simple cookbooks go, this is a very solid effort – the food styling and photography is impeccable, and Musa’s recipes are reliable and repeatable.
Killer recipes: Javanese Lamb Curry, Padang Beef Sambal Stir-fry, Kalio Chicken Curry, Lontong, Wok-fried Noodles with Asparagus and Enoki Mushrooms, King Mushroom Clay Pot Rice
Should I buy it? Too many of us are tied to office jobs that require an hour on the train on either side of the shift and keep us half an hour longer than we were taught to expect (Dolly Parton can count herself lucky that she gets to clock out at 5pm). Books like Bowlful are exactly what we need to inject a little joy and a whole lot of flavour back into that drab daily routine.
Cuisine: South-East Asian Suitable for: Beginner home cooks Cookbook Review Rating: Four stars
What’s the USP? A month-by-month guide to the culinary year, exploring seasonal produce and timely dishes with contributions from a wealth of chefs, writers and other folk with high-functioning tongues. This is the second edition of The Food Almanac, which suggests an earnest effort by publisher Pavilion to make this, if not an annual event (volume one was published two years earlier in 2020) then at least a regular one.
Who wrote it? A picnic basketful of names are involved, though once again the central voice is that of Miranda York. Though York has been a key figure in food and culture writing for a short while now, last year’s inaugural almanac was her first book. As with that edition, this volume draws on a range of voices of varying levels of familiarity. There are entries by Diana Henry and the currently inescapable Jeremy Lee, as well as Rachel Roddy and Olia Hercules. Some of the book’s most enchanting moments come from less established names: Nina Mingya Powles, author of meditative food memoir Tiny Moons, offers up a delightful recipe-as-poem in November.
Is it good bedtime reading? Once a month, for a night or two, The Food Almanac will offer absolutely perfect bedtime reading – at once uniformly thoughtful and exquisitely varied. In each chapter the reader can explore a choice selection of seasonal offerings. An introduction by York that focuses on a specific ingredient, a deeper dive that expands on cultural context, or offers another perspective and a matching recipe. There’ll be a further section or two that might take the form of a guide to the ‘Easter Buns of Europe’, or a collection of ideas for warming tonics for a cold January day. Perhaps you’ll have a short personal essay to follow, before a three-part menu for the month, each curated by a different food writer (Ravneet Gill’s menu for July focuses on seasonal fruits; a month earlier, Nik Sharma presents us with Indian-influenced dishes, including a subtle but delicious Spiced Pea Soup that I couldn’t resist making half a year early).
How annoyingly vague are the recipes? Curated and edited with every bit as much care as the rest of the book, each recipe is presented with clarity and precision. The joy of a collaborative title like this is the sheer variety of approaches to cooking on display – but York reigns everything in to ensure consistency amidst the cornucopia of ideas.
Will I have trouble finding the ingredients? Most dishes are bracingly straight-forward, and based on seasonal ingredients. If you are seeking to source these in the allotted months (or a few weeks either side) you’ll mostly be in luck. Of course, our supermarkets are experts in allowing us year-round access to most fresh produce, so you’ll rarely struggle if you do want to attempt a summer dish in the depths of winter.
That said, occasionally the almanac may tempt you with something a little more difficult to source. Much is made in September of sea buckthorn – a forager’s delight that will be out of reach for many across the UK.
How often will I cook from the book? You would hope at least once a month, but then, that isn’t really the point of The Food Almanac. If you decide to try out one of the five or so dishes on offer in each chapter, you’ll likely find joy on every occasion. But if you instead take the time simply to enjoy the wonderful food writing and spend a little longer thinking about the month’s seasonal offerings, the book will have been well worth the purchase.
Killer recipes: Solyanka, Braeburn Eve’s Pudding with Calvados, Wild Garlic and Prawn Noodles, Sambal Bajak, Strawberry Popcorn Knickerbocker Glory, Mexican Flans with Mezcal Raspberries, Salt Mallard and Pickled Prunes, Deep-Fried Sprout Tonnato with Crispy Capers
Should I buy it? Oh, goodness, yes. The Food Almanac is an opportunity to look at the gastronomical year through the eyes of some of our best food writers, offering a chance to rediscover the seasonality of our homegrown produce in the age of supermarket ubiquity. It’s an absolute joy, and only the strongest-willed amongst us will be able to resist skipping ahead and gobbling it all up in just a few sittings.
Cuisine: International Suitable for: Confident home cooks Cookbook Review Rating: Five stars
It’s a decade since Noma, Time and Place in Nordic Cuisine was published, the book that helped put Copenhagen-based chef Rene Redzepi, his love for foraging and his fiercely locavore culinary philosophy on the map. Now, the appropriately titled sequel Noma 2.0 tells the story of the restaurant’s reinvention in 2018 when it relocated to an urban farm on the outskirts of the city.
The publication of the book coincides with Redzepi’s shock announcement that he will be closing Noma as a restaurant at the end of 2024 and, according to a report in the New York Times, will continue to run it as a ‘full-time food laboratory, developing new dishes and products for its e-commerce operation, Noma Projects, and the dining rooms will be open only for periodic pop-ups.’ Hopefully Redzepi will be able to make the change in a more speedy manner than his Spanish counterpart Ferran Adria who still hasn’t fully launched his research lab and pop up restaurant elBulli 1846 in the grounds of his legendary elBulli restaurant which closed back in 2011. This year, 2023 is the year apparently. We’ll see.
So it’s fitting that, standing a foot high and containing 352 pages, Noma 2.0 is a tombstone of a book. Essays by Redzepi, Noma’s gardener Piet Oudolf and Mette Soberg, head of research and development, are beautifully illustrated by Ditte Isager’s stunning photography. Three chapters mirror the menus served each year in the restaurant; ‘Vegetable’ when Noma becomes a vegetarian restaurant in the spring and summer, ‘Forest’ in the autumn when the menu is based around wild plants, mushrooms and game, and ‘Ocean’ in the winter when when Redzepi says that ‘the soil is frozen and nothing grows’ but ‘fish are fat and pristine, their bellies full of roe’.
Whatever the season, the food is so intricate there’s only enough space in the massive book for descriptions of the dishes; the ‘Noma Gastronomique’ appendix includes full details of building blocks such as ferments, garums and misos but you need to scan a QR to access the complete recipes for the likes of Reindeer Brain Jelly (or maybe you’d prefer Reindeer Penis Salad?) online.
This is not a book for the faint hearted, with dishes such as Duck Brain Tempura and Duck Heart Tartare served in the cleaned and beeswax-lined skull and beak of the bird. His Stag Beetle dessert, fashioned from a leather made with blackened pears, blackberries and Japanese black garlic is all too scarily reminiscent of a bush tucker trial.
Not everyone will have the time, resources or inclination to attempt to replicate Redzepi’s extraordinary cuisine in their own kitchens, but it is nevertheless an essential purchase for any ambitious and creative chef who can’t fail to be inspired by the book’s bounty of surprising and unusual ideas.
Cuisine: Nordic Suitable for: Professional chefs. And very, very dedicated home cooks. Who live in Scandinavia. And have a lot of time on their hands. Or who can persuade 50 odd people to help them make their dinner, for free. Cookbook Review Rating: Five stars (awarded for originality and beautiful presentation rather than practicality)
What’s the USP? As the title (which bears a striking similarity to the BBC TV show Thrifty Cooking in the Doctor’s kitchen with Dr. Rupy Aujla on which Monroe appeared as guest) suggests, this is a ‘bumper’ collection of recipes intended to be wallet friendly without sacrificing flavour. The book also includes Monroe’s ‘Home Hacks’ – money saving tips and tricks to help you budget in the kitchen.
Who is the author? That’s a very good question and one that not even Monroe herself seems to know the answer to. That probably sounds a bit cryptic if you aren’t familiar with the name Jack Monroe but will make perfect sense to anyone who has followed her career over the last decade or so.
If you are new to Monroe, before continuing to read this review, I would recommend reading Tattle’s Jack Monroe Wiki (a word of caution, Tattle is very definitely a site for grown ups. While the Wiki is entirely factual, if you stray to the forums be prepared for some very strong opinions and even stronger language).
For a more potted version of events in Monroe’s public life and career, see the Awfully Molly blog which is partly based on Tattle’s work. Author Katie Roche’s Jack Monroe: An Investigation is also well worth reading. At the time of writing this review, a further investigation into Monroe’s fund raising activities was due to be posted on justpikachoo.com. This recently published Guardian profile is also well worth a read.
If you don’t want to do the reading (although I strongly recommend you do, it is quite the ride) Jack Monroe is the author of seven cookbooks, a food writer, journalist, blogger and activist campaigning on poverty related-issues and in particular hunger relief. She appears occasionally on TV, mostly as a poverty pundit but has demonstrated recipes on This Morning and Daily Kitchen Live among other programmes.
There has been some public debate about her effectiveness as a campaigner as well as her abilities as a food writer and TV presenter. Nevertheless, she has half a million followers on social media and makes what is estimated to be a healthy income from her Patreon account which, at the time of writing had somewhere between 588 and 647 subscribers each paying between £1 and £44 a month. Until recently, subscribers had received little of the content and rewards promised by Monroe. Currently, the account has just one post which is in fact an apology from Monroe for not supplying said content and rewards.
Although she does attract a fiercely loyal following (referred to by Monroe as her ‘flying monkeys’ who vociferously defend her against any negative comment on social media) and has celebrity supporters including restaurant critic Jay Rayner, food writer Tom Parker Bowles and TV cook Nigella Lawson, she is a controversial figure to say the least. Before parting with your hard earned money for this book, it is worth investigating Monroe’s background in order to assess if you are comfortable supporting her financially.
I personally have no wish to do so but was forced to spend my own cash as repeated requests for a review copy were ignored by the publisher (never a good sign when a publisher appears not to want reviews ahead of the publication date). As I don’t want it in my house longer than it takes to review, I plan to donate my copy to my local Amnesty International book shop (I changed my plans and got a refund instead. My thinking was that, even if Amnesty made a few quid from the sale, some poor charitable soul would end up with a duff book so it seemed best for everyone if I just got my money back) .
Is it good bedtime reading? `This is the first book on this blog that comes with a health and safety warning. Prior to it’s release, Thrifty Kitchen trended on social media due to a downloadable preview of the book available via Apple books and other online stores going viral for the contents of an introductory section titled ‘If You Don’t Have This, Try This’. Among some truly bizarre ‘home hacks’ (which bear more than a passing resemblance to to Viz magazines famous top tips) was the advice to use a mallet and ‘a small sharp knife’ as a can opener.
Such was the resulting furore that publishers Pan MacMillan briefly withdrew the ebook of Thrifty Kitchen from pre-sale to make some hasty edits and then published a safety statement saying that ‘Bluebird has amended text in the e-book edition, and will do the same for future reprints, removing or amending some of the content that has been flagged, and adding enhanced safety information at the back of the book.” In a reply to Twitter account @AwfullyMolly (a blogger highly critical of Monroe), food bank charity Trussell Trust, which was due to receive up to a thousand donated copies of Thrifty Kitchen, said, ‘The books that will be donated to our food banks will contain an addendum that addresses any health and safety concerns and we will not be distributing any books via our food banks in the current form.’
Many of the other ‘home hacks’ have been criticised online for being batshit crazy including using a square of cotton, four carabinas and an s-hook in place of a colander or hoarding the water from a condenser tumble dryer in recycled drinks bottles to use for mopping the floor with. There is a very strong sense of a teenager being forced to do their homework by a stern parent about these parts of the book. It may be that they were included at the request of the publisher and Monroe struggled to come up with enough useful and credible hints and tips, was bored and taking the piss to see what she could get away with. And she got away with an awful lot as it turns out.
What has been included either doesn’t work (my wife tested the firelighter made with an empty loo roll tube stuffed with tumble dryer fluff – no, really – and it was literally a damp squib although some people apparently swear by the method), doesn’t really address a real problem (using a flannel to dry yourself after a shower in order to save space in the washing machine – what?!) or saves virtually no money (using old t-shirts as cleaning cloths. I’d rather keep wearing the t-shirt around the house – I have some that are nearly 20 years old – and buy a new cloth. Hasn’t Monroe ever heard of the pound shop?). Also, I have never managed to make icing sugar from granulated sugar by blending it (although apparently food writer Nancy Birtwhistle can).
The less said about ‘The Quarterhack’ the better. OK, I suppose I ought to say something. Basically, this translates from Monroe-speak as checking your kitchen cupboards, fridge and freezer for what food items before you do the weekly big shop so you don’t waste money. That advice is almost so sensible and obvious that it’s not worth writing down, except we’ve probably all done a spur of the moment shop or just couldn’t be bothered to check what we already had and have ended up with five jars of pesto or three bottles of soy sauce. OK, just me then.
Monroe takes things a step further however and suggests dividing a sheet of A4 into four columns (hence ‘quarterhack’. Christ.) and heading them Protein, Carbohydrate, Fruit and Veg and Snacks. You then note down every single item of food you have in your house under the appropriate column and then you…I don’t know, I gave up reading and ordered a Dominoes at that point. All you need to know is that it’s an unnecessarily complicated and unworkable methodology for what should be a very simple thing.
Monroe also claims the ‘quarterhack’ is how she manages to feed two adults (including herself) and her son for £20 a week. This is probably the most pernicious claim in the book. It’s one that Monroe makes regularly and which has seen her compared to Conservative politicians who claim that those living on the poverty line only need to learn how to budget better and how to cook in order to feed themselves. If Monroe does actually only spend £20 a week on food, it’s because she has spent a larger amount in the past in order to stock up her cupboards, fridge and three freezers (yes, she has said on social media that she has three freezers). It’s a ludicrous claim, allowing only 95p per person per day for food. Unless you are serving up plain lentils three times a day, there is just no way to meet that figure. Tellingly, Monroe offers no example meal plan setting out exactly how to feed three people a day for £20 a week, probably because she can’t.
So the short answer to ‘is it good bedtime reading’ is no because you are much better off not reading it. Let’s move on to the recipes. Bound to be on safer ground there, this is Monroe’s seventh cookbook after all.
How annoyingly vague are the recipes? Fucking hell. If I see ‘generous fistful’, ‘a few pinches’ ‘plenty of’, unspecified amounts of oil ‘for greasing’ or ‘for frying’ (it doesn’t matter what it’s for, how much? A teaspoon, a tablespoon? It’s not hard is it?), unspecified amounts of ingredients for garnishing (how much ‘optional bread and blue cheese for the Roasted Roots Soup? FFS, just work it out and write it down!!) unspecified varieties of mushrooms and potatoes (yes they really do matter, especially if you are going to roast the potatoes and you want them to ‘fluff up at the edges’, Charlotte or Ratte for example are not going to work. Just say King Edwards. How could that be difficult? How could it be difficult for an editor not to notice? Did the book even have an editor, at least one that gave a shit?) unspecified ‘soft fresh herbs’ (what if I don’t know the difference between soft and hard herbs. I mean, rosemary is quite soft isn’t it? Is that what you mean? Can’t you just bloody say what you mean?) I will bloody well scream.
And why does every clove of garlic in MonroeWorld have to be fat? Do I have to throw away the skinny ones? That’s not thrifty is it? I was going to count the number of times the world ‘generous’ appears in the book but I’m not an actual nut job. It’s a lot though, and it’s very annoying and very vague (edit – a kind reader of this blog with a Kindle version of the book has confirmed that Monroe uses the word 89 times, which is a generous amount and one way of meeting the publisher’s required word count).
Among all this vagueness, Monroe goes to the effort of specifying ‘cold fresh water’ in her recipe for Lemon and Rosemary Roast Potatoes (annoyingly, there is no rosemary in the recipe, just dried mixed herbs which don’t contain rosemary. Why isn’t it called Lemon and Herb Roast Potatoes? Hello, editor, are you there?). Maybe this is to ensure you don’t use the supply from your collection of 2l bottles of tumble drier water that is no doubt now cluttering up your under-sink cupboard.
Will I have trouble finding ingredients? No. Monroe is famously a loyal Asda shopper so you will have no problem buying any of the ingredients in the book.
What’s the faff factor? Probably not high enough to be honest. Some of the recipes are almost comically short. Lemon sardines on toast are just that, tinned sardines (which are already cooked) fried in their own oil and lemon juice (can you fry something in lemon juice?) served on a thick slice of toast. That’s it. You can buy sardines in oil and lemon by the way. Instant cheesy mash is a mix of instant mashed potato flakes, dried skimmed milk powder and dried hard cheese which you put in a jar and then throw away because no one in their right minds wants to eat a mix of potato flakes, milk powder and rancid dried cheese. Chicken and cannellini soup is a tin of beans that is simmered for 20 minutes for some reason (the beans are out of a tin, they’re already cooked) in water, a stock cube, lemon (why?) and ‘plenty of black pepper’. No fat clove of garlic for some reason, that would have been highly appropriate and added some character and flavour to the soup. But yum I guess. Chicken porridge is oats cooked with milk and a stock cube. Oh stop it, you’re spoiling us.
As with many of the dishes in the book (see below), you will find similar recipes online for chicken porridge. They are slightly more complex in that they actually have herbs and spices and other ingredients that make them worthwhile cooking. It’s a common theme in Thrifty Kitchen; Monroe adapts a recipe found easily online but in the process of making it ‘her own’ she often removes ingredients that make the thing worth the effort of cooking.
She admits in the book that this is the basis of her working method, saying ‘This is how I work when trying something new; I compare and contrast three or four recipes, picking out fundamentals and common denominators, then weave in what I think will be the best bits from each, to my own tastes and intuition. Most of the time it works a charm.’ There is nothing intrinsically wrong with this of course, many recipe writers work in a similar fashion I’m sure, after all, Felicity Cloake based an entire Guardian column and several ‘Perfect’ books on it. The key objective however is to come up with something better than already exists not just something different so you don’t get sued.
How often will I cook from the book? There may be 120 recipes but the same ingredients seem to pop up again and again. Ask yourself how much you like eating lentils, crab and fish paste, tinned tomatoes, lemon in just about bloody everything and endless cans of various beans. One of the utterly astonishing things about the book is that, although Monroe uses cannellini, borlotti, chickpeas and butter beans etc throughout the book, they are always tinned and she never recommends the much cheaper dried versions, surely the staple of any truly thrifty kitchen?
I found little in the book to inspire me into the kitchen. I love a roast chicken and am always on the look out for new ways to cook one. I often use Simon Hopkinson’s famous version from Roast Chicken and Other Stories and there is an excellent recipe in The Bull and Last Cookbook that includes a wonderful red wine gravy. I would also highly recommend spatchcocking a chicken and cooking it in an air fryer if you have a model that’s big enough. A 1.5kg bird will cook to bronzed perfection in about 40 minutes, a more thrifty method than using your oven. Surprisingly, Monroe never mentions air fryers or slow cookers in the book, two thrifty pieces of equipment that would be as much use as the bullet blender she recommends to make the white sauce mentioned below.
So what is Monroe’s signature roast chicken move you ask? Well, you take your chicken and put it in a lightly oiled roasting tin (there is no other fat used in the cooking process. Yeah, I love a dry chicken too), season it with salt and pepper and cook it for an hour or ‘according to package instructions’. That’s right, you’ve paid £19.99 (or if you are thrifty, £9.99 via Amazon, who you can send it back to for a refund once you’ve realised your terrible mistake) for a book to tell you to follow the instructions on the ‘package’ your chicken came in. Bad luck if you bought it from your butcher. She serves it with ‘coronation slaw’. I never want sultanas with my chicken so, fuck that. The introduction to the recipe is bizarre, banging on about geese and her Greek Aunty Helen and not mentioning chicken, or what to do with it once. It’s like no one checked to see if it made any sense or that it might be the introduction to another recipe entirely.
I don’t really want to eat Butter Bean, Veg and Stuffing Stew for my tea, but even less I don’t want to cook a recipe that advises me to toss chopped onion and garlic cloves sliced in half (why do I want great lumps of garlic in my stew?) to a dry cold pan, then pour over oil and seasoning and then turn the heat on. I think this is meant to be some sort of energy saving ‘hack’ (although she doesn’t actually say anything in the book about it) but how much energy do save by not heating you pan for thirty seconds so your ingredients cook properly? And if Monroe is so worried about saving fuel, why does she then say to cook very finely diced carrots and already cooked tinned butter beans for 40 minutes. And then cook for a further 10 minutes after adding thinly sliced courgettes and the stuffing crumbs. Imagine the claggy mess you’ll end up with.
In an introduction by Nigella Lawson, not written for the book but taken from a BBC 4 Radio programme, she calls Monroe a ‘kitchen savant’ with ‘a deep and instinctive understanding of the alchemy of cooking’. Far be it from me to contradict one of our finest food writers, but the butter bean stew recipe and many others in the book read like they were written by someone with little understanding of cooking techniques and not much interest in eating. That appears to be born out by the three recipes I tested from the book.
Instant white sauce
A quick and simple recipe that produced a sauce of sorts. It’s not much of a surprise when you discover that there are dozens of similar recipes online like this one. The only problem was that it tasted rank. Well, what do you expect from microwaved milk, flour, oil and mixed dried herbs (one of Monroe’s favourite ingredients sadly. Who uses mixed dried herbs anymore)?
Monster Bums
Not a spelling mistake, just Jack’s little joke. Spinach and parsley bread rolls that her son squished together before baking so they looked like an arse. Ha. Ha, and indeed, Ha. I’d have more of a sense of humour if the recipe didn’t make me look like an arse too. For a cookbook aimed at non-expert bakers, including a recipe for bread that is around 80 per cent hydrated (i.e. has a lot of water in it. Not unusual in modern baking but a tricky technique to master) makes little sense. The use of plain flour rather than strong bread flour is also perplexing and probably a significant factor in why the recipe didn’t work as it should have done.
I followed the instructions as best as I could. However, the dough was so wet and sticky, made even more slack by the addition of defrosted frozen spinach (the recipe made no mention of draining the veg so I didn’t) which pushed the hydration level up even further, that it was impossible to knead on the worktop as per the recipe. With high-hydration doughs I would usually use the stretch and fold method made famous by US baker Chad Robertson and now much copied, but unfortunately not by Monroe. I ended up manipulating the dough as best I could with a dough scraper, an implement I would imagine few of Monroe’s intended audience would have and not something she recommends in the book’s Basic Kitchen Equipment section. I persevered for the prescribed 10 minutes but the result was less than ‘springy’.
Once ‘kneaded’ the dough needs to rise for three hours. Three feckin’ hours! Instead of doubling in size as per the recipe, the dough just laid there like a food writer sleeping through the Guardian knocking on their door at 12.30pm to get them to a photo shoot for a Saturday supplement cover story that shows them in an extremely bad light, even though they themselves think it’s good PR for them.
The lack of rise may have been due to the way the dough was mixed. Monroe says to blend the spinach and parsley with warm water and then add to the flour and yeast. By the time I’d finished blending, the water had lost most if not all its heat. I often use cold water when making a dough but I then prove the dough overnight in the fridge. So I could have made this work but testing my baking skills and knowledge was not the point here, it was to see if the recipes in the book actually worked.
Using my dough scraper again I managed to form the dough into, well, small bits of dough and left them to prove again for another hour during which time fuck all happened.
I then baked the rolls, if you could call them that for an astonishing 50 minutes at 140C. They needed a further 10 minutes to cook through. Why the long bake at a low temperature I have no idea and Monroe doesn’t explain. The oven needed to pre-heat too. It was the least thrifty bread recipe I think I’ve ever cooked. The result was at least edible if not particularly nice, the baked spinach and parsley gave the bread a faintly metallic taste and the long slow bake didn’t seem to have made any difference to the finished result. They could have been baked at 220C for 10-15 minutes and come out of the oven the same.
From start to finish, the process took close to six hours. As I had planned to spend the day in the kitchen that wasn’t a huge problem as I could get on with things while the dough was resting, but it’s a ludicrous amount of time only to end up with a bog-standard result that a more traditional method would have achieved in half the time. Although its not exactly like for like, compare this one hour pizza recipe from the brilliant YouTube chef Brian Lagerstrom. It’s been properly developed and tested and I can vouch that it works a treat and is delicious. It’s a useful recipe to have when you are stuck for ideas for a weeknight meal, which I’m not sure I would say about any of the recipes in Thrifty Kitchen.
Marmite Crumpets
These didn’t work. I mean, look at them. That’s after 50 minutes of cooking time. Apart from the addition of Marmite ( a nice idea by the way) the recipe ingredients and measurements are virtually identical to any you’ll find online or say, Delia Smith’s version (I like Gary Rhodes’s recipe from new British Classics which works a treat) so the mix should work.
The first problem arose from the amount of mix Monroe says to use. Three tablespoons in a standard poaching ring just isn’t enough so you end up with something closer to a pancake than a crumpet. Secondly, the instructions state to use the smallest ring on the hob at the lowest setting. I happen to have an induction hob (hardly that rare these days) so the lowest setting is really low. Even though I pre-heated the pan at a higher setting as instructed, the crumpets, which should have taken around 10 minutes (that’s the minimum time according to Monroe, but she gives no maximum) just never cooked through. I cooked a second batch using more mix and a higher heat but they still refused to set properly and tasted unpleasant. Everything went in the bin, including the leftover batter which there shouldn’t have been any of. I halved the recipe which should have made four crumpets but the mix would easily have made eight three tablespoon crumpets. Did anyone check?
I intended to test more Thrifty Kitchen recipes, but it was so dispiriting, spending the morning in the kitchen and having very little to show for the time, effort and money spent on ingredients and fuel. Both the crumpets and the white sauce went straight in the bin. The bread was one of the most exasperating and tricky doughs I have ever made, and I bake a great deal, but the result was at least edible.
Killer recipes: Well, you might find yourself a digit missing if you follow the tin opener ‘hack’ but nothing will actually kill you, probably. I am of course kidding. Regular readers of this blog will know that ‘killer recipes’ refers to the dishes that make the book irresistible and a must buy. That doesn’t apply in this case. Thrifty Kitchen remains eminently resistible.
Should I buy it? I’m honestly struggling to come up with a good reason what anyone would want to part with the best part of £20 to own this book. As discussed, its useless from a home hack point of view, the recipes are for the most part unappealing and badly written and there is very little truly thrifty about the book. Yes, there’s recipes for veg peelings and fish paste but who the fuck want’s to eat those? Where are useful budget-friendly meal planners and shopping lists? At Jamie Oliver’s website, that’s where. For free. They don’t even cost £19.99. Nada, zilch. And they are bloody great. So please, do yourself a favour and save your money.
120 reasons you don’t need to buy this book (a project that will never be completed)
I started out when I wrote this review with the intention of completely negating the need to buy Thrifty Kitchen by finding exactly similar or as close as possible recipes available free on the internet by another author. I decided to stop after two chapters as it was massively time consuming, I felt I’d made my point and I have TV boxed sets to binge watch, bitches. I have included my finding as I think it shows that often, the free alternatives are a more enticing proposition than Monroe’s versions.
It should be noted that there is no accusation of plagiarism, the purpose of this is to provide a resource for those that can’t or don’t want to afford to buy Monroe’s book. Recipes titles on the left are Monroe’s from the book and, unless otherwise indicated, the linked recipe has the exact same title, although ingredients and method differ to varying degrees. The recipes linked to here are not necessarily the earliest posted online, just the first I came across so I’m not claiming they are necessarily any more original than Monroe’s versions.
I am aware that some of the recipes published in the book and billed as ‘brand new’ on the back cover have already appeared, either on Monroe’s blog or as part of commercial tie-ins with companies such as Del Monte and Netflix (Refried Potatoes with Blue Cheese is available here and a similar but much nicer sounding version by US chef Paula Deen here. It should be noted that Paula Deen is a very controversial figure too so I’m not endorsing her in anyway, but that recipe does sound bloody good) but I haven’t listed these as I am only one man and this is enough work by itself and I’m pulling 100 hour weeks and DO YOU WANT ME TO STOP BREATHING!
Many cookbooks have emerged recently that started development during the lockdowns of the last few years. Sam and Sam Clark looked for ways to simplify their cooking to feed a five person household while compelled to stay under one roof. Luckily for the rest of the family, the Clarks are professional chefs and the husband-and-wife team behind Moro and other restaurants that focus on Southern Mediterranean dishes and flavours. The result of this endeavour is Moro Easy, a cookbook aiming to make their restaurant’s dishes accessible to the home cook through uncomplicated methods and ingredients.
Moro Easy delivers on straightforward and interesting dishes with many living in the sweet spot between undemanding and delicious, the kind of recipe that makes cooking tasty food deceptively easy and makes you think maybe one day, you too can open your own restaurant. On the menu could be the fish tagine with potatoes, peas and coriander requiring you to just whizz up a spice paste and bake fish in it for 8 minutes. Or a series of labneh recipes that are about as quick to make as they are to read.
Then there’s the ones that are a little more involved and bring you back to reality. For instance, it would be wise to stay focused on the kale purée with polenta unless you’re looking to paint your kitchen green.
However, books that have time limits or difficulty levels in their names set a high threshold of success. How easy is easy? How quick is quick? I remember the furore over the release of Jamie’s 20 Minute Meals when it transpired they did not in fact, take exactly 20 minutes. If you have a food processor at your disposal some recipes will take minutes of preparation. Without one, it’ll depend on your tolerance for chopping. Simple recipes also live and die by the quality of the ingredients you can source. A recipe with few components like Peas with Jamón and Mint will be inherently more delicious if the ingredients are of a higher quality.
There is a joy to be found in simple food, using the smallest amount of ingredients and effort to produce something remarkable. The best recipes here are the ones that just let the ingredients do their thing, roasted squash covered in cinnamon and a sweet and spicy vinegar is outstanding, as is aubergine dotted with tomatoes and tahini sauce. Mostly, they’re rustic and wholehearted dishes, the sort of thing you could eat entirely with chunks of bread. This isn’t a bad thing, I’ll be friends with anything that can be eaten using carbohydrate cutlery. On the whole, it’s an enjoyable book but something that’s more solid than spectacular.
Cuisine: Southern Spanish and Mediterranean Suitable for: Beginner and confident home cooks Cookbook Review Rating: Four stars
What’s the USP? The latest entry in the Japaneasy series of cookbooks keeps it simple, offering up a selection of simple to make dishes that recall the bento options found at conbini convenience stores across Japan. There’s also, as the name suggests, a heavy focus on food served in bowls – which is very often the most comforting way to have one’s food served.
Who wrote it? Tim Anderson, the American-born, British-based Masterchef winner who specialises in Japanese cooking. Like, really specialises in it. Anderson is currently knocking out a cookbook a year, it seems, and they’re usually very accessible and filled with delicious ideas.
Is it good bedtime reading? Cookbooks that focus on simplicity often carry that through to every element of their composition too, from design to the food writing itself. Thankfully, while Anderson sticks with the clean, attractive layouts returning readers will be used to, he also continues to inject a few sections to peruse between recipes. As well as your standard equipment sections, there are asides on bento culture, and the best way to enjoy rice. They aren’t exactly essays, but they make for a much more readable and enjoyable experience than comparable offerings from other publishers.
Will I have trouble finding the ingredients? Anderson tries, as ever, to keep his dishes as accessible as possible. There’ll be plenty of requests for staple ingredients of the cuisine, like mirin, dashi powder and sesame oil, but none of these are particularly hard to source these days. Where more unusual ingredients are suggested, Anderson offers a readily accessible alternative.
What’s the faff factor? As the title suggests, everything here will be relatively simple to knock together in your kitchen at home. Thankfully, he’s dropped the often terrible puns that the otherwise brilliant Vegan Japaneasy insisted highlighting said ease with. Now the dishes speak for themselves, and are all the better for it.
How often will I cook from the book? This is the sort of book that could be pulled off the shelf weekly. It is filled with simple dinners that will offer new options for a quick meal after work. With its focus on bento lending the book a ‘small plates’ vibe at times, there’s also plenty of opportunity to put on a fairly impressive, hassle-free Japanese dinner party.
What will I love? Japaneasy Bowls and Bento is a bit of an all-rounder. As well as a good selection of weeknight-friendly dinners, the bento-led focus of the book means it also offers great ideas for your packed lunch, or for a dinner party of small plates.
What won’t I love? It’s a small thing, but the lovely shiny blue lettering on the cover is not up to much at all – it only took one trip to my kitchen work-top for some of it to wear away. But all good cookbooks look a little worn in the end – perhaps this one is just keen to skip to that stage.
Killer recipes: Enoki bacon rolls, Microwaved runner beans with yuzu ginger miso, Pork belly bowl with salted leek relish, Crab and spinach doria
Should I buy it? The big question for many will be whether or not they already own a Tim Anderson book. While Japaneasy Bowls and Bento is a solid cookbook with plenty of tempting recipes for easy weeknight meals, earlier titles in the range offer a similar selection. This doesn’t break and new ground, so it’s worth heading to your local bookshop and comparing each title to figure out which one works best for you.
Cuisine: Japanese Suitable for: Beginner and confident home cooks Cookbook Review Rating: Three stars
When anyone asks about the best Thai dishes that have been exported around the world, Pad Thai is certainly among the most sought after. My visit to the country’s capital in search of the best Pad Thai in Bangkok revealed how easy it actually is to cook this dish. It has a wonderful combination of sweet, sour and salty flavours with a good crunch of peanuts. Forget about ready-made sauce in a jar, you can make your own by combining tamarind, palm sugar, fish sauce and soy sauce – it’s as simple as that.
SERVES 2
200g/7oz flat rice noodles ½ tbsp vegetable oil, plus extra for the egg 3 garlic cloves, finely chopped 10 raw king prawns, shelled and deveined, but tails left on 1 egg 125g/4½oz bean sprouts 50g/1¾oz garlic chives (kow choi)
1 spring onion, cut into thin strips and soaked in cold water until curled, then drained 10 sprigs of fresh coriander, leaves picked 2 tsp dried chilli flakes ½ lime, cut into 2 wedges 2 tbsp salted peanuts, lightly crushed
Prepare the noodles according to the packet instructions; drain and set aside. In a small bowl, mix the seasoning ingredients with 2 tablespoons of water and stir well.
Heat the oil in a wok or large frying pan over a high heat. Fry the garlic for 30 seconds, then add the prawns and cook for 1 minute. Push the prawns to one side of the wok or frying pan and drizzle in a little more oil. Crack in the egg, scramble it, cook until dry and then add the noodles and seasoning mixture. Cook for 2 minutes, then stir in the bean sprouts and chives, continue to cook for 1 more minute and then turn off the heat.
Transfer to two serving bowls and garnish with the spring onion, coriander, chilli flakes, lime wedges and peanuts. Serve at once.
I visited Singapore many years ago on holiday and stumbled across a wonderful, well-organized food court whose name I can’t recall, but I vividly remember the stall that served delicious biryani. The chef showed me all the layers in the huge cooking pot he used to cook the aromatic rice. This experience always comes to mind every time I cook or read anything about biryani.
SERVES 4
FOR THE JACKFRUIT & CHICKPEA CURRY
2 tbsp ghee, butter or vegan spread, plus ½ tbsp extra for the rice 4 white onions, halved and thinly sliced 4 medium and ripe tomatoes, finely chopped 1 x 565g/20oz can jackfruit in brine, drained and rinsed 1 x 400g/14oz can chickpeas, drained and rinsed
FOR THE RICE
500g/1lb 2oz/2½ cups basmati rice, soaked in water for 20 minutes then drained 3 green cardamom pods, lightly bruised 3 cloves 1 cinnamon stick 10 black peppercorns 1 tsp cumin seeds 2 tsp salt
FOR THE SAUCE
200g/7oz/scant 1 cup quark or natural yogurt 2.5cm/1in ginger, finely chopped 5 garlic cloves, sliced 1 tbsp ground coriander 2 tsp ground cumin 2 tsp mild chilli powder 1 tsp ground turmeric 2 tsp salt 1 tsp garam masala 10 sprigs of fresh coriander, roughly chopped 20 fresh mint leaves, roughly chopped 4 tbsp frozen peas
TO FINISH
3 tsp saffron water (a pinch of saffron threads soaked in 2 tbsp warm water for 20 minutes) 3 tsp rose water 20 fresh mint leaves, roughly chopped 10 sprigs of fresh coriander, roughly chopped
To make the curry, melt the ghee, butter or spread in a large saucepan over a medium-high heat. Next, stir in the onions and fry for 10 minutes until golden to dark brown. Remove half the onion and set aside for later use.
Stir in the tomatoes and cook for 3 minutes until softened. Add the jackfruit, chickpeas and all the sauce ingredients, except for the peas, and cook for 10 minutes. Stir in the peas, together with 200ml/7fl oz/scant 1 cup of water, and cook for a further 2 minutes. Turn off the heat.
Meanwhile, place 1.8 litres/63fl oz/7½ cups of water in a large saucepan and add the spices and salt, then bring to the boil and stir in the rice. Cook for 8 minutes. After the first 4 minutes, reduce the heat to medium-low and continue to cook for the remaining 4 minutes. Turn off the heat and drain.
Put the remaining ghee, butter or spread in a deep saucepan and scatter over one-third of the rice followed by 1 teaspoon of the saffron water and 1 teaspoon of the rose water. Scatter over one-third of the mint, coriander and fried onions, followed by one-third of the curry. Repeat the same process until everything has been used.
Cover the pan with aluminium foil, put over a low heat and cook for 8 minutes. Turn off the heat and let the biryani rest for 5 minutes, then remove the foil and divide between four serving bowls. Serve at once.
Black Power Kitchen is part cookbook, part manifesto. A combination of 75 mostly plant-based dishes that draw on recipes from across the African diaspora and emotive essays that speak of the power food has in connecting communities and creating shared histories and futures alike.
The authors are Jon Gray, Pierre Serrao and Lester Walker, members of New York food collective Ghetto Gastro. The group, which comprises chefs and food enthusiasts and has been making a name for itself since 2012, breaking into wider public consciousness in recent years as they collaborate with big brands while delivering important social action, feeding Black Lives Matters protesters and offering a thrilling vision of what food can do within a community.
You should buy Black Power Kitchen for both the passionate essays that shine a light on the collective’s vision for food in Black communities and beyond, and for the recipes, which are thoughtfully conceived and playfully reimagined takes on both iconic dishes and bright new ideas. Like last year’s Black Food by Bryant Terry, which also took a collaborative essay-led look at the diaspora’s rich food heritage, Black Power Kitchen is heavy on plant-based recipes, with a smattering of seafood and chicken dishes thrown in for good measure. But this is no clean-eating vegetable-led cookbook. The recipes are bold and creative, from a Jamaican jerk-inspired mushroom dish that includes a barbeque miso glaze, to a thrilling vegan take on the Brazilian feijoada. Pescatarians can add an unmissable take on the Japanese takoyaki that draws on Caribbean cooking to offer up a saltfish-led twist. The recipes can be a little more ambitious than casual home cooks will want to approach regularly, but the results will be amongst the best food you’ve ever made – your only disappointment will be that there aren’t more dishes to draw on.
Cuisine: African/International Suitable for: Confident home cooks Cookbook Review Rating: Four stars
Cookbooks are the cheapest and quickest way of travelling.Escapism through a chopping board and the hob as you explore the world from the kitchen. Some routes are more well-grooved than others with Thailand, China and India being particularly well-represented. You would however, struggle to find more than four titles on indigenous Australian food because well, to my knowledge there aren’t many more than that.
Mabu Mabu is the latest and if we take distance travelled as an indicator of value, then this book is a steal: buying it in the UK will whisk you 8860 miles away to Mer Island, a tiny place in the Torres Strait off northern Australia and the birthplace of Nornie Bero, author of Mabu Mabu and owner of the restaurant that shares its name.
The book opens with a tribute to Bero’s cultural heritage, the indigenous people of the islands of the Torres Strait and an acknowledgement of the lands her Ancestors have lost to imperialism. Mabu Mabu though is much more of a celebration of the ingredients and recipes of these islands rather than mourning anything lost. A vivid colour palette and attractive flat design bring a brightness and energy to the pages and the recipes on them.
The first three chapters are dedicated to Bero’s life, the creation of her restaurant and her use of food to educate and share her upbringing with others. The latter three covers ingredients and recipes with lists of interesting, unfamiliar foods and spices to those of us living on this side of the world. It’s here however, we find a fairly critical issue for a cookbook review: I can source almost none of them. My idea of a good time is spending an hour or five in my local international supermarkets finding new ingredients to cook with. Imagine my delight at being asked to find wattleseeds, crystal ice plant, karkalla, seaberry saltbush, lilli pilli, muntries and quandong. Imagine my despair at completely failing.
Turning to online suppliers didn’t bring much more joy. It would be quicker and more cost effective to fly to Australia than to have purchased every ingredient needed for Saltbush Pepperberry Crocodile. Replacing them is an option but also very much not the point. Swapping out ingredients more accessible for a European palette is how we ended up needing a book like this in the first place.
I did manage to cook a few dishes without any trouble though: Pumpkin Damper, a chunky unleavened bread served with golden syrup butter; Semur Chicken, a salty, hoppy and fragrant stew poured over vermicelli noodles, and Sop Sop, a sort-of hearty simmered mash of root vegetables and coconut milk. All were interesting, some delicious and most tasting vaguely familiar by using ingredients found in South Asian and Oceanic cuisines.
However, it’s ultimately a book for a part of the world much sunnier than here, where the ingredients are accessible in major supermarkets and can be appreciated in the ways they were intended. Which leaves this review to be continued. These ingredients feel exotic now but at one point, so was lemongrass and I can now get that from my local corner shop. It takes books like this to raise different ingredients into the collective consciousness and gain wider usage. For now, Mabu Mabu will sit on my shelf until perhaps one day, I can pick up a packet of quandong and a kilogram of emu from my local Tesco.
Cuisine: Australian Suitable for: Australian-based cooks Cookbook Review Rating: Not rated as we just couldn’t test the recipes properly
Review written by Nick Dodd a Leeds-based pianist, teacher and writer. Contact him atwww.yorkshirepiano.co.uk
What’s the USP? Mamacita is, on the face of things, a cookbook about Mexican food, and the immigrant experience. But it is also a lifeline. It was originally compiled as a self-published cookbook that was sold to help author Andrea Pons fund her family’s legal fees as they attempted to navigate the US immigration system. Now it finds its way into print once more, via a more traditional publisher, with additional recipes and plenty of glossy photos. It’s the American dream come true.
Is it good bedtime reading? There’s much to enjoy as a casual cookbook reader here. Though there isn’t much extended reading besides a thorough introduction at the beginning of the book, Pons shares her story, and that of her family, throughout the recipes themselves. This is a life, and a community, seen through food – and exploring each dish, and understanding how it fits into a bigger picture, makes what might otherwise be a fairly straight-forward collection of recipes a whole lot more enjoyable.
How annoyingly vague are the recipes? Despite listing a UK price on the back cover, this is a very US-centric cookbook, with measurements only listed imperially. If you can work around this, though, you’ll enjoy Pons’ uncomplicated writing.
Will I have trouble finding the ingredients? Where are you cooking? Again, if you’re in the UK, you’ll have a more difficult time – even the most simple authentic Mexican ingredients, from chipotle in adobo to corn tortillas, can be a struggle to source here. Americans will likely fare better. The back pages list resources for immigrants in the US – but a list of resources for those looking to pick up Maseca flour and authentic Mexican cheeses might have been a useful addition too.
How often will I cook from the book? There’s plenty to love here, including showy dinner party dishes like Conchitas de Pescado (a fish gratin served in scallop shells). But the heart of this recipe book is family cooking, and so top of the agenda is simple, delicious food that’s easy to make at home. I tried out the Sopa Azteca at home last week during my lunch hour. It’s a fallacy that a good soup takes a long time, and the rich bowl I mustered up in little over thirty minutes couldn’t make a stronger case for the prosecution.
Many of the dishes here would make fantastic weeknight dinners from families with relatively open minds. Why would anyone bother with an Old El Paso dinner in a box (everything is included! All you need to buy is chicken breast! And an onion! And two bell peppers! And a jar of our branded guacamole!) when the same money and effort will put Pons’ stunning Pork in Green Sauce with Potatoes on the table?
Killer recipes: Chilaquiles, Pollo al Curry, Chicken in Adobo, Pork Chops in Spicy Tomato and Poblano Sauce, Mexican Bread Pudding
Should I buy it? Mamacita isn’t a perfect book. You sort of suspect that being self-published, and then picked up by Princeton Architectural Press (who, unsurprisingly given their name, have limited experience with cookbooks) might explain a few of the simple missing elements that another cookbook wouldn’t have skipped over. But these are relatively small qualms – this is bright and positive food, beautifully written about and passionately presented.
Cuisine: Mexican Suitable for: Beginner and confident home cooks Cookbook Review Rating: Four stars
In 2009, chef Sébastien Bras took over the kitchens at Le Suquet, the world-famous restaurant and hotel that’s perched on a hill above the Aubrac in the southern Massif Central of France. Sébastien’s father Michel won three Michelin stars there for his nouvelle cuisine creations including gargouillou (a warm salad of vegetables and herbs) and soft centred ‘chocolate coulant’ that inspired a thousand chocolate fondants. In his first cookbook, Sébastien offers his own updated variations; a ‘raw’ summer gargouillou made with 120 varieties of vegetables, some grown in the restaurant’s kitchen garden, and a curry cream coulant inspired by a trip to India.
Many of the remaining 38 recipes also reflect the chef’s world travels, some of which are documented in the book, including a trip to the Sahara that inspired a dish of sand-baked taguella bread made with millet flour, semolina and honey and filled with air-dried courade sausage, and visits to Japan (until 2020, there was a Bras restaurant in Hokkaido) where Sébastien first tried the fried pork-loin gyoza that he serves with tangy carrot jus and chrysanthemums.
In addition to discovering his feelings about the Michelin guide (Sébastien famously ‘handed back’ the restaurant’s three Michelin stars in 2017), the book also tells the stories behind the creation of two of the chef’s signature dishes. The ‘miwam’ (a made-up word) is a filled wheat and spelt galette/waffle cooked in a special mould made by Sébastien’s engineer brother William and sold at The Café Bras in Rodez in the south of France; the ‘gouttière’ is its fine dining cousin, a potato waffle made from wavy tuiles sandwiched with hazelnut butter cream and drizzled with salted butter caramel.
The stunning photography documenting the food, life at the restaurant and the austere beauty of the Aubrac through the seasons, and essays on the Bras family, restaurant team, producers and culinary techniques add up to a compelling picture of an extraordinary enterprise that will inspire any keen home cook or chef.
Cuisine: International Suitable for: Confident home cooks and chefs Cookbook Review Rating: Four stars
Dear reader of cookbookreview.blog, I have a confession. I’m not that into ramen. I know this isn’t a universally shared opinion but I’ve never had a bowl of ramen that has inspired the awe it’s meant to. The kind that true devotees hunch over steaming bowls of broth like medieval alchemists and whisper in hushed reverence about the exact marination time for soy eggs. 
The Wilderness Cure begins and ends on Black Friday. In what Mo Wilde saw as a symbol of destructive consumer behaviour towards the planet, she made a pledge: to live off entirely free and foraged food for an entire year. As a foraging specialist, ethnobotanist and research herbalist, Mo was more than equipped to meet the demands of her wild experiment.
The lack of rise may have been due to the way the dough was mixed. Monroe says to blend the spinach and parsley with warm water and then add to the flour and yeast. By the time I’d finished blending, the water had lost most if not all its heat. I often use cold water when making a dough but I then prove the dough overnight in the fridge. So I could have made this work but testing my baking skills and knowledge was not the point here, it was to see if the recipes in the book actually worked.
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