Showing posts with label Cookbooks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cookbooks. Show all posts

Saturday, February 15, 2014

Curing and Smoking - Steven Lamb

I love the River Cottage handbooks, every time I write about them I find myself enthusing about the same things - they're lovely to handle, look great, are funny and engaging as well as informative, and generally speaking are as useful as any set of books could possibly be. Book number 13 deals with curing and smoking, it's been my bedtime reading for the past few nights and is the reason I've spent the best part of an hour researching salt on the internet this afternoon. I had no idea there was so much to know about salt.

As someone who lives in a city centre flat deep in the Midlands there are titles in this series which are of limited use to me on a day to day basis - the ones about fishing, sea shore foraging, and chickens don't get quite as much use as I'd like - but at least I have enough garden access through D to have found the allotment and fruit tree volumes more than just inspiring. It's the flat dwelling part of my lifestyle which will hold me back from really exploring the world of smoking and curing. I have nowhere to hang sausages to age them, and although I'm still playing with the idea of buying a stove top hot smoker I suspect that it'll just be something that gathers dust. My father and stepmother however have the space, equipment, and expertise to do all these things (my stepmother's pickled herring is amazing, she does one cure with Christmassy spices which is particularly memorable, it has nothing to do with this book - just thought I'd mention it) so perhaps I can experiment a bit more with the smoking element when I'm next up there.

Meanwhile there are still projects (anything that takes more than a few hours to cook is surely a project) that even I can have a go at. There's a recipe for salt beef which looks especially good, theoretically I could make sauerkraut but despite it being a really good probiotic food I've never really taken to it. What I really want to have a go at though is dry cured streaky bacon. It looks like it can basically be done in the fridge, takes about 10 days to have something ready to fry, and seems like a skill it would be good to have. The required pork belly is easily, and reasonably cheaply, available from local butchers so if I somehow make a mess of it at least I won't have spent a fortune in the process. What I feel I can make from this book though is only part of it's charm for me. I like to know how food is put together, there's a world of cured meat products in here which had hitherto passed me by which means all sorts of things to seek out and try even if I never do get the chance to make them.

'Curing and Smoking' also feels slightly different to the other River cottage handbooks - this is the first one that explicitly deals with the possibility that you might want to sell what you're producing with a short but helpful section on commercial considerations. This is a subject dear to my heart, I would love to see more small producers working on a local basis, I want to buy things from people who really understand what they're selling, who know their product inside out, and who care about them because basically I consider it to be a far more sustainable model. Paying a bit more to support small, quality, producers is future proofing.
That section on commercial considerations is only a couple of pages long but in some way it changes the tone of the whole series - the others have essentially been about hobbies and activities (which is no criticism) but 'Curing and Smoking' has the potential to be something more than a hobby or a weekend activity. I'm hopeful that at some point a book about cheese making will be forthcoming - something else I've always wanted to have a go at but won't be able to do in a flat but meanwhile this is an excellent addition to a brilliant series.    

Monday, November 18, 2013

Traditional Recipes of Laos - Phia Sing

Prospect Books asked me if I would like a copy of this as Laos is now the place to go in South East Asia, I would unhesitatingly say yes to anything from Prospect because their books are excellent - they cover 'food, cookery, food history, foodways, ingredients, and anything else concerning our diet'. They happily publish books I can't imagine anybody else taking on and some of which can't make much money (any money?) but all of which deserve to find an audience. the world at large and book lovers specifically need publishers like this.

My travels have never taken me out of Europe and whilst paying a mortgage is my primary concern I don't suppose that's very likely to change. I sometimes wonder if I should have made more effort to go further afield when I was younger and didn't have so many bills to pay but on the whole I don't really regret not having travelled more (yet). Meanwhile I can explore from the comfort of my own home through recipes. 'Traditional Recipes of Laos' is a perfect exploring book.

Phia Sing was the master of ceremonies and chef in the Royal Palace at Luang Prabang. Towards the end of his life (some 70 years ago) he wrote down a collection of traditional recipes at a time when written sources where almost non existent and oral accounts not as precise as could be wished for. Alan Davidson (who originally founded Prospect Books) was a career diplomat as well as being one of the great food writers, he was posted to Laos in the 1970's just before the country became communist. It was a lucky conversational chance with the then Crown Prince that led to Davidson getting his hands on the original notebooks. They had been talking about fishing when he mentioned how hard it was proving to get authentic recipes, the Crown prince produced the notebooks and happily Davidson got them Xeroxed and translated.

In this edition there are facsimiles of the original notebooks on one page translations on the next. There are also excellent sections on Loa eating habits and attitudes to food, culinary terms and equipment, and ingredients and other practical information for the cook. There are 124 original and authentic recipes from Phia Sing's notebooks - as I write this I keep thinking about how easily these might have been lost - and also a chapter on desserts which come from the Davidson's own research, Phia Sing's notebook's didn't contain any and his family considered it unlikely that he would have written any down.

This is so much more than a simple collection of recipes; it's a glimpse into a different time as well as a different place. There is a lot of chopping, pounding, simmering, and steaming so it's a world where cooking is the main business of the day and where the kitchen is the centre of the world - full of ingredients and preparations that lead into one another, it's a fascinating world to explore.



Wednesday, November 30, 2011

The Gentle Art of Cookery – Mrs C.F Leyel and Miss Olga Hartley


This is part of the classic voices in food series that Quadrille are producing (I quite fancy the Eliza Acton as well) and the first thing you notice about it is what a lovely looking book it is. Christmas tree green, scarlet, and silver with lovely creamy pages - it’s the scarlet coloured page edges that are really doing it for me though. After I’d got over how pretty the book was I read a bit about the authors, Hilda Leyel was an expert herbalist, set up the Culpeper shops and the Herb Society in 1927. Olga Hartley was her assistant as well as a suffragist journalist and author; both women sound fascinating but its Hilda’s voice and tastes that shape the book.

 ‘The Gentle Art of Cookery’ was written in 1925 but feels startlingly modern which says a lot about the cyclical nature of food fashions and perhaps even more about the vision that Hilda had. She veers towards the vegetarian, champion’s seasonal food (although that’s not unusual for the 1920’s) and has a penchant for exotic ingredients and cooking with flowers (in fact many of my own kitchen pre occupations). There is a menu plan for an Arabian night which appeals to me, the memory of a Middle Eastern banquet at my friend Mary’s house in the summer is still fresh, it’s wonderful food for sharing and talking over.

I’ve spent quite a lot of time dipping in and out of this book – I’ve been meaning to write about it for weeks – and really like it, it feels different and imaginative as well as being interesting for the history, but I have to agree (a little begrudgingly) with the introduction. This isn’t a book for inexperienced cooks (Hilda also says this) the recipe’s are given with the same sort of brevity that can make Elizabeth David (by the by this was one of David’s first cook books and she apparently remembered it with gratitude and affection) so frustrating to cook from if, like me and Julian Barnes, you’re a pedant in the kitchen. There are good idea’s aplenty, many of them far ahead of their time (a chapter on cooking for and with children is something I’m not used to seeing but also really liked) but there’s also a lot that’s very much of its period – lot’s of gelatine based creams – and some which call for truly terrifying quantities of things. One recipe calls for a peck of primroses; that’s a unit of volume equal to two gallons/nine litres, or basically a LOT of primroses, so good to read about it, maybe not for making.

I do however fancy mixing up some wassail; 6 pints of beer, 4 glasses of sherry, sugar, lemon and nutmeg, 4 slices of toast – leave to stand for 3 hours, bottle and drink within a few days. I have no idea what the toast is for or would do to the drink (or who I would get to drink it) but it sounds intriguing, as does the Rumfustian... 

Thursday, March 31, 2011

Gifts From the Kitchen – Annie Rigg

Back in February I had a good sort through my cook books and cleared some out with half an eye to making space for some new things on the shelf (a small flat imposes some sort of control on my book acquiring habits). One book I’d been looking at since before Christmas and have since got my hands on is Annie Rigg’s ‘Gifts From the Kitchen’. Annie Rigg’s C.V. is fascinating she’s been a food stylist for all sorts of magazines as well as on tour cook for the likes of Pink Floyd and The Rolling Stones, I can’t help but wonder if she did heart shaped pastel sugar cubes for them as well.

I like the idea of making things for people although in real life juggling the time to create with how long perishable items can be kept, or how long they need to mature – well I think you can see where this is going. It’s at least one of the reasons that I’m always looking out for new/usable ideas. At first glance ‘Gifts From the Kitchen’ looked like a lot of confectionary and some pretty cakes (I can’t tell you how much I want to make marshmallows or how impractical it looks - they don’t keep and I don’t feel up to organising a sufficient number of marshmallow eaters as well as production on a single day.) However there’s more than just cake in here. Lots of chutneys, pickles, liquors, preserves, spicy nuts, even pasta (and okay so it’s sweet but how to make your own Nutella style chocolate spread – now that I can do) all sorts of good things in fact, and for all conceivable occasions.

What really sets this book apart though is the styling. Give or take a couple of things (mostly that chocolate spread recipe, but there are a couple of others I’m very pleased to have to hand) I could probably find most the things in here somewhere else in my extensive assortment of cookbooks but – and it’s a big but as my other new cookbook (Pam Corbin’s ‘Cakes’) highlights - styling is what turns something ordinary but delicious into an extraordinary present. Some of it’s simple enough stuff – toffee would make a nice enough gift, but toffee still in its baking tin tied up with ribbon and a little hammer... Or perhaps homemade herbal tea bags with hand printed labels and a vintage teapot?

I see a trip to tk maxx coming up and a good scour round the market for ribbons and the like, I will be prepared for Christmas this year (a ‘career’ in retail will make you think April = Christmas planning, by August it needs to be locked down). The blonde, my sister, and the Scottish one all have birthdays coming up soon so perhaps there will be some dry runs first. I did think at one point that this might be a good way to save money as well as doing something nice, the saving money thing doesn’t add up, but the more thought I give it the more I like the idea of making instead of buying. On the other hand it’s entirely conceivable that ‘Gifts from the Kitchen’ will be the staple birthday present of the year from me and I’ll just hope to receive the fruits of other people’s labours.

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Capsule Cookbooks – part 2

So much for the cookbooks that I could at a push do without – though they give me a lot of pleasure and almost as much inspiration... What’s on the shelf that’s indispensable? (Indispensable being a loose term here obviously because really all these books are a lovely luxury.)

Ever since I got it last summer I’ve been devoted to Niki Segnit’s ‘The Flavour Thesaurus’. It’s become a key to all my other cookbooks; take one ingredient, look for combinations, find a recipe in one of those many contenders – but better than that (and it would be pretty good if that was all it did) it’s also a great read, lovely to look at, and contains a few good recipes as well. It’s the perfect book for the semi confident cook like me; I like a bit of direction and Segnit does it so well – I’m maybe such a fan because her two key flavours approach is particularly friendly to wine matching and that makes things easier for me too.

Another newish book is ‘River Cottage Every Day’ which was a Christmas present from my sister a year ago. So far it’s been all about the baking, but there’s a lot of good stuff in there. Ideologically the River Cottage way (and sometimes it does feel a little like a cult – but I mean that nicely) is one that appeals to me. Fresh, seasonal, home grown or sustainably sourced – basically food with thought behind it, and all very makeable as well – nothing that the harassed wine merchant/book blogger can’t deal with at the end of the day as long as she’s prepared to get her hands dirty from time to time.

And whilst I’m on the subject of River Cottage there are the handbooks. I love this series and actually think they’re all indispensable. It’s not just food it’s an entire way of life from foraging to fishing via baking and preserving with a bit of gardening. If I was going to be stranded on an island these are the books I’d be hoping would wash up in a packing case and happily if I was going to limit myself to only ten cook books (hell will freeze over first) I could totally cheat the odds with these because so far all but two arguably fall into different categories. Pam Corbin’s ‘Preserves’ and Daniel Stevens ‘Bread’ are the two which are absolutely cookbooks, and I love both of them. ‘Preserves’ has made my kitchen far, far, stickier and jam making has become a bit of a passion, although that’s just the tip of the iceberg. ‘Bread’ isn’t the first bread book I’ve bought (I also have a Ballymaloe version, and actually other books about preserving) but what both of these books have in spades are good clear instructions, and good clear explanations of why you do what they ask. It’s an approach that appeals to my pragmatic learning style, the results have been excellent and they’re not going to be easy books to supersede.

I can’t imagine my kitchen without Nigella Lawson (I’m a child of my times) but though I have all her books – because basically I just can’t help myself – the one that I use more than any other is ‘How To Be A Domestic Goddess’. Hardly surprising given that I’m no stranger to the dark art of baking. There’s something about the philosophy behind this particular book, as well as the absolute reliability of the recipes that makes me think this will always be a great fall back book. It’s certainly been upping my calorie count for the last decade.

I’ve had ‘The Art of the Tart’ (Tamasin Day–Lewis) for almost as long and despite not having a good hand for pastry it’s been responsible for some great tart’s and some awful jokes. I have lots, though not all, of Tamasin Day-Lewis’ books but seldom have the time to use them properly; her thing seems to be food that demands a certain amount of time and pottering, perfect if you have a weekend to spend gossiping in the kitchen whilst giving something the odd stir before unveiling an amazing meal for 8. Not so good when you’re at work till 9pm and back for 9am. Still I can dream/hope and there’s something pleasingly grown up about these books, also once you’ve created your tart it’s very friendly to the work late start early cycle that I can’t seem to escape.

Claudia Roden is another food writer who’s left her mark on me. ‘A New Book of Middle Eastern Food’ (another Christmas present from my sister who’s getting good at this) is a classic that’s not especially pretty to look at but is packed full of not just food but history and culture. For my cooking life Mediterranean food with an emphasis on Italian has been in the ascendancy. It’s all balsamic this and a pinch of fresh basil that, which at one time must have been a nice change from French cuisine but is now so bloody ubiquitous that discovering first middle eastern food and then a whole lot of other culinary cultures (including French) was a real revelation. And delicious.

Better even than Claudia Roden however is Jane Grigson, all her books are fantastic but the ‘Jane Grigson’s Fruit Book’ and ‘Jane Grigson’s Vegetable Book’ are hard to beat. Arranged (just in case anyone’s missed out on these) alphabetically by fruit etc each chapter does sweet, savoury, and history. These are books which absolutely fire the imagination with the romance and promise of mulberries, damsons, pomegranates, carrots...

Which would leave me one book left and I think it’s got to be another newish one Susannah Blake’s ‘Afternoon Tea Parties’ because right now this is very much the kind of thing I love; home grown, a little bit vintage, not to formal, fun, decorative – basically indulgent.



Monday, February 21, 2011

Capsule Cookbooks

Any regular readers and anyone who knows me already knows I have a bit of a cookbook fetish. I love them and I have lots of them – not Nigella into the thousands quantities, but well over a hundred and arguably about a hundred more than I really ‘need’. Now before I go any further I should make it clear that the books are (mostly) staying put, but after an afternoon spent in bookshops considering the merits of a dedicated volume to macaroon making (seriously, I’ve made macaroons once – they were okay, but not as pretty as the ones I can buy and half the pleasure is in the prettiness and why was I even considering it?) Browsing on amazon to see if there’s anything new and exciting out there, trying to herd books back onto their proper shelves and off the floor (where seemingly of their own volition they form teetering islands to be negotiated) and finally actually cooking something (without instructions). Well anyway it makes me wonder how many I need for direction and how many are just because I love them.

The question to answer is this – which ten couldn’t I do without? I do actually get rid of books from time to time and the cookbooks are no exception (goodbye Jamie Oliver and Gary Rhodes; I got you under questionable circumstances, never used you, and haven’t missed you.) But actually cookbooks are harder to get rid of than most because so many of them have been presents – I have a lovely copy of ‘The New Moosewood Cookbook’ for example which I’ve never used but it’s a vegetarian classic from a lovely friend and I wouldn’t willingly be parted from it.

Cookbooks are social history just as much as personal history – my collection spans roughly twenty years with the earliest (Claire MacDonald’s ‘Seasonal Cooking’ and ‘More Seasonal Cooking’, Delia Smith’s ‘Complete Cookery Course’) harking back another decade or more. Delia – when I bought that book I thought it would be the only one I ever needed – wouldn’t make the cut now, for a good 15 years she was my go to woman when in doubt about the best way to do something, but I don’t find her as reliable anymore. Claire MacDonald is a different matter, her fresh and seasonal approach was a little bit different in the age of the kiwi and nouvelle cuisine and she’s aged reasonably well. I don’t turn to these books often anymore but they’re at least assured a place on my long list.

I have a handful of Persephone cookbooks which I’m ashamed to say I’ve never used – perhaps Persephone reading weekend will be a good opportunity... they definitely come under the social history category, I’ve browsed them (but somehow those nice grey covers and cream pages seem out of place in the kitchen, I don’t want to break the spines or get them dirty and in fact the best way to work out which books are essential would be to see which are the dirtiest) and yet I’ve been following the progress of a friend who’s cooking from a 1929 edition of Mrs Beaton, so perhaps the Persephone’s will have their day yet.

I’m doubtful about all the Nigel Slater books I have, ‘Tender’ (volumes 1 and 2) are lovely to look at but ‘The Kitchen Diaries’ sort of annoys me for no very concrete reason unless it’s that his timings never seem to match my oven so things that look quick take forever. I really liked the first Tessa Kiros books too, but ‘Piri Piri and Starfish’ and ‘Venezia’ are more picture than recipe, not pictures of food either – they take up a lot of shelf space without real content and I resent it. These books are so much of this particular time that I wonder what they’ll look like in 10 years.

When it comes to personal history there are yards of books reflecting fads – Japanese food, Polish food, baking, Greek food, Jelly, Persian Cuisine, books about herbs, books and books about soup, cooking with flowers, afternoon tea... They’ve all had their moments and all have their place, but most of them are an unashamed luxury. There are also the books which look serious – Leith’s bibles on technique, fish, and Vegetarianism (all woefully underused – the technique bible didn’t help me with a chocolate mousse disaster, nor did Delia and I’m not very forgiving; I’m still holding a grudge against Sophie Grigson after a lemon curd fiasco in 1994) and the River Cottage ‘Fish’ and ‘Meat’ books. Of all of them ‘Meat’ has been the most useful, and interestingly (to me at any rate) I see that they’re the books provided by our training department at work. Still I’m not a master chef contender and so these probably aren’t really essential either good as they are.

To Be Continued...