Ours is a house of books. It's a peculiar, eclectic mixture. I'm looking across the room now and I can see Yertle the Turtle next to Evelyn Underhill's Mysticism. My kitchen is full of cookery books, too. My mother began buying them for me when I was growing up. I won't bore you with the whole library, but just list my favourites in the hope that you might read and be inspired by them, too. And yes, I like a proper recipe with no chit chat (that's very obviously not how I'm writing this, of course), but I like the way that foods are put in context. It's so much more, well, appetising. Especially if you are reading Elizabeth David -- so let's start with her. And I won't give them in order because they are all of a jumble on my shelf. Some of my books are now out of print, unfortunately.
An Omelette and a Glass of Wine. Almost my first cook book. A series of essays. I read this when I was thirteen (odd reading for an adolescent, but then, well, I I'm odd)) and two things happened. One that I went recipe spotting when in France with my parents and felt really grown up. (Reader, I was failing at school -- but I had Elizabeth David and who knew?) The second was that I developed the habit, which I have continued ever since, of reading a text about food whenever I was eating alone
French Provincial Cooking. If I had to choose one cookbook and burn the rest, this would be it. I have read and re-read this endlessly. I can tell you about the dishes the hors d'oeuvres were served in in a big dining room overlooking the Seine. The duck was served in a rugged and worn earthenware dish, the langoustines were served alongside pebbly black winkles and herrings and anchovies with their muted tones. and Or the filling station where she and her party once stopped and discovered, inadvertently, a cook of rare quality in the cafe to one side. Or the big round dish of Arles sausage and black olives which made you imagine you were seeing and tasting these things for the first time. You see my point.
It is from this book that I began to learn about Escoffier and Marcel Boulestin, of the great cooks and hotel owners of France and of what good food, in David's opinion, comprised.
Salt, Spices and Aromatics in the English kitchen. It was from here that I first learned about early British epicures, about her larger than life friend Norman Douglas, those who kept a generous table in the nineteenth century and about very simple food which made perfect use of herbs.
Elizabeth David Classics. This pulls together three different texts: Mediterranean Food, French Country Cooking and Summer Cooking. I particuarly like the latter, with an espevcial favourite being its picnic section. Why had I forgotten about the smoked cods' roe sandwiches my father loved? I also love her reminder that the Provencal pan bagna makes delicious out of doors food and that prawns with watercress dressing are nice for a seasside picnic.
You know, if you put your mind to it, nothing's changed that much since Mrs David wrote these books in the 1950s.
Is There a Nutmeg in the House. More essays. If you wanted to learn about John Nott, who compiled his dictionary of 'receipts' from the latter end of the 17th and beginning of the 18th century, then this is where to come. This text is really a sequel to An Omelette and a Glass of Wine. I loved her descriptions of cooks whose food she had known well, of the relishes of the Renaissance and of her loathing of the garlic press. But it was her description of what she would have on Christmas day if she had her way which held me most. An omelette and cold ham and good wine and --particularly-- a smoked sandwich and a glass of champagne to be eaten from a tray in bed in the evening. I do love dinner for six, or four or ten, but just sometimes..
Eastern Vegetarian Cooking. Madhur Jaffrey. I have found this particularly useful and an inspiration in how to use one ingredient --say the chick pea-- in lots of different ways. I find the chapters on 'little things' most enticing.
Rosemary Hempill. Herbs for All Seasons and The Penguin Book of Herbs and Spices. As with many of my favourite books, these were my mother's and published in the early seventies and late fifties, respectively. It was from her that I learned the value of, say, some chives snipped over 'eggs in a glass' -- how you could, therefore, make something luxurious out of something very simple and of very few ingredients, as long as they were good ingredients. It was also from her that I learned to make something I have made from childhood and continue to make to this day: a pomander, with an orange cloves and, ideally, orris root.
The Curry Bible. In this, Jaffrey sets out to define what an curry is the world over. The result is culinary history and a raft of extremely useful recipes. This book introduced me to the curries of, for example, Trinidad and South Africa.
A Taste of India. This is my favourite of the three, as we follow her round the homes or into temples and offices where she tries the food that the outstanding cooks of India turn out on a daily basis.
Appetite. Nigel Slater. How I love this book. Actually, along with Damon Lee Fowler (see below) I think I have a bit of a crush and have had for some time. Comprehensive without being dry, funny and, well, extremely useful. The fact that he writes so well make me come back to this book again and again.
The Kitchen Diaries and Real Fast Food Both of these books are just incredibly engaging and very useful. Practical guides for you to turn to. It had never occurred to me before I read Nigel Slater that it would be good to read a description of a chip butty and of how salty buttery fingers were an incredibly good feast when you've had a few. And that they need not necessarily be your fingers. You don't need the top shelf, gentlemen: you need a culinary education.
Book of Jewish Food. Huge, comprehensive and an education. There's a reason why Simon Schama is quoted on the cover as saying that Claudia Roden is no more a cookbook writer than Marcel Proust a biscuit baker. You can devour this from cover and learn about Jewish communities the world over. She tells you about vanished places and times, too.
Arabesque. Gorgeous photography. It's about Turkish Moroccan and Lebanese food. Three favourites of mine. It is the vegetable recipes that I like best, such as the Lebanese 'Spinach and beans with caramelised onion' or 'courgettes with vinegar, mint and garlic.'
Middle Eastern Food. This was the book that put me on to Claudia Roden. And, as is often the case, my favourite section is that about little dishes at the start of the book. You want to know about the pickle carts of Baghdad or how the savouring of a savoury morsel of something at the start of a meal with a glass of something potent can bring you ecstasy or put you in a mood of deep contemplation? Read this.
Eating the Elvis Presley Way. David Adler (Blake, 2002). This is both a collection of recipes for foods loved by the king (obviously that sandwich is in there) and a sensitive record of Elvis's life and of those around him. It's funny and sad and an interesting historical record of, for example, the South of his youth and of the American army. And the last meal, as remembered by his housekeeper? Peach ice cream, one other, forgotten flavour and 6 chips ahoy cookies. Between 2 and 4 a.m.
The mystery for me is not whether Elvis lives, but why, as with Johnny Cash, I had somehow failed to appreciate the genius of the man until I was 29. I give you the King.
Mrs Beeton Everyday Cooking. How could you not have this on your shelf? It was where I learned, for example, about cuts of meat, how to make a simple sauce and from Mrs Beeton's Book of Household Management how to make beef tea and manage domestic staff.
M.K Fisher. How to Cook a Wolf. This is a book I recommend to everyone. Fisher was writing in time of wartime shortage in America and her theme is economy -- but not the sort of economy you would notice. That's how you keep the wolf at the door. You have money enough in your purse and you also scoff at him because you have made, with care and planning, something good. She will also tell you what to do for a broken heart. If this recession of 2009 is to last, I think we should turn to M.K. Fisher for advice. I have always admired the chapter titles -- such as "How to have a Sleek Pelt" and "How to rise up like New Bread" and the fact that she insists, like Edmund Burke, that some of our energy would best be directed not at saving, but at careful selection.
How to Eat. Now, I know people snipe at Nigella Lawson because she has become somewhat ubiquitous. But this is a superb book. It's a personal compendium of everything she knew about food. It's full of good recipes, conversation and good sense. And the fact that it was Nigel Slater's book of the decade, I notice, should also urge you to read it. I like her 'Basics' chapters best of all --especially her Christmas section. And also the thoroughly sensible chapters on cooking for One and Two and Fast Food.
Floyd on France. Keith Floyd. I have read this many times. I like Floyd's smart, loving and intolerant approach. It's an excellent selection of personal favourites.
Recipes from an Old Farmhouse. Alison Uttley. Read in one sitting. It may seem that you could not use this in your daily life, but use it for inspiration. A prompt to remember that one does not need a complicated list to make something splendid. Remember what you can do with some fresh herbs, some cheese, onions or some potatoes.
From the Southern States...
Southern Cooking: Mrs S. Dull. I love this. A piece of cultural history, but, much as I love the recipes, it's the "kitchen stunts" section that I love best. What daring! Experiment dangerously with your napkins!
Country Cooking by Dori Saunders. I just took to her because you want to go to her house and have her churn peach ice cream for you.
The Church Ladies Celestial Suppers and Sensible Advice. You know it makes sense. You may not want to win a place on a hospitality committee or cook the 'Holy Ghost Supper Party Meatballs' or even 'Pastor's in Trouble Meatloaf', but there is great comfort and kindness to be felt here. Possibly a bit too much jello, too.
Charleston Receipts. You want to know about the Gullah language (never heard of it? go see) or about low country cooking? This is an old and well loved chestnut in our house. And if I wanted to remember why I should be making grits and shrimp as a breakfast dish, I'd come here. As I would if I wanted to learn how to make a she crab soup.
New Southern Baking and Classical Southern Cooking by Damon Lee Fowler. He is funny and learned and compelling. The best introduction for a modern reader to the cooking of the South. And he is from Savannah, Georgia, which makes him, in our household, particularly cool.
And back to Blighty..
Rick Stein's Food Heroes. The best of British ingredients. When I was very young, we would drive over the Mendips to my paternal grandfather and always stop at the Mendip Cheese dairy to buy provisions and presents. And I would taste everything. The sort of cheddar that bites the roof of your mouth and leaves a wonderful aftertaste? Yes. That's what a food hero is.
River Cottage Cookbook. Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall. I read this from cover to cover in the hope that I could manage to keep hens and get a home smoking system going. Hasn't happened yet but I've had a decent introduction to smallholding and a wonderful sense of a man with a passion.
Invitation to Italian Cooking. I am a big fan of Antonio Carluccio and this is the book that has taught me most about Italian cooking. I am charmed by the clarity of the recipes and by his warmth and humour.
There are many more -- like some of my mother's old books (I particularly like the New Radiation Range) and battered old books which must have been brought back from Dhaka by the family just before Bangladesh came into creation. Mrs Zainab Curimbhoy's Joy of Cooking in Pakistan is a particular favourite. Battenburg cake alongside gulab jamuns and recipes for korma .
Then there is my mother's old recipe book, all in her beautiful teacher's handwriting. In blue ink from the decent fountain pen with which she would have liked all older children to write. Plus the giant stack of recipes culled from magazines, newspapers and leaflets between 1950 and 1990. All bound up in a special edition Terry's All Gold selection box, tied with string. My particular favourites being the earliest -- with their invocationto English people to "try foreign food at home!" And to have something called a "Parents' meal", when you eat off your lap with, perhaps, the television on. And afterwards you might elect to play cards. There is a real frisson of excitement around some of these recipes. Perhaps the notion that you were being a little too adventurous. Reading these, though, does make me think that maybe Philip Larkin was right when he said that sex began in 1963.
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