Welcome to Off The Shelf, the monthly series where we dust off the cookbook shelves and commit to cooking properly from one book every month. Rediscover the joy of flipping through the pages of a well-thumbed cookbook, add some new meals to your repertoire and see what happens when you step away from the endless scroll of online recipes.
Of all the cookbooks I own, I feel most at home in the kitchen of Nigel Slater. It is often simple cooking, with recipes rarely taking up more than a page, occasionally just a few sentences which conjure to mind a soothing moment in a quiet home - quite the opposite from my own, I might add. But the ethos is something we share, cooking doesn’t need to be complicated or stressful, it can be a ritual which grounds you in a time, place or season, a thing of welcome solace or companionship. ‘A Cook’s Book’ is rooted in seasonality and a life enriched by food and experiences, Slater doesn’t anchor himself to a particular cuisine but is clearly influenced by his travels to Japan, Scandinavia and upbringing in a nostalgic 1960s and 70s England.
Why ‘A Cook’s Book’?
Where last month’s book, ‘A Table for Friends’, celebrates a rich menu studded with stars and sides, Slater takes a more simplistic approach. I imagine his table is less laden with a plethora of vintage serving platters and instead one simple pot, exquisitely made and filled with a rich meaty stew of some sort, diners presented with one perfectly formed bowl, perhaps with a chunk of bread with which to soak up the remnants. More so than any other food writer, Slater’s cookbooks are so rich and warm with detail that the recipes feel almost secondary to the storytelling, able to evoke such a feeling of connection that you almost feel like you are there with him, sitting on a train puttering through the rural Japan countryside or making the perfect cup of tea in a candlelit kitchen in the early hours. Recipes may often only include a handful of ingredients, some you may have in the store cupboard and some which may require a bit of forward planning. There are no unnecessary frills or gimmicks, no overcomplicated techniques. It is almost a stream of consciousness as Slater takes you with him on a life spent in the kitchen.
The Show Stoppers: It almost feels like a disservice to Slater to pick apart this book to find a favourite, as it feels so much more like a cooking companion than an instruction manual. Above everything else, what I take away from this book is the sheer understanding of food and a fine tuning of technique led by experience. His chapter, ‘A Chicken in the Pot’ is so nostalgic and conjures such an image that one is tempted to rush to the butchers there and then, nestle a chicken into a roasting tray and do very little other than tenderly care to it whilst enjoy the sounds and scents which escape the oven. And then there is the bread. Perhaps the only thing that could lure me back into the weekly ritual of sourdough making is Slater’s glorious description, but for now, I stick with the focaccia. Made over two days and pocketed with dimples in which olive oil happily pooled, the focaccia garnered such praise for such little effort that I almost want to keep the recipe all to myself.
The New Regular’s: Some of Slater’s best recipes aren’t recipes so much as they are an idea, take ‘A green sauce for almost everything’ or ‘The za’atar marinade’ - it is no more than a suggestion of flavours that work together, and which can be repurposed in almost endless ways. The za’atar marinade was mixed in a matter of moments, tossed over a few chicken thighs which were left in the fridge for the day, only to be rewarded with a zesty and lightly spiced feast later on, piled high with flatbreads and hummus. Everything a simple weeknight dinner should be.
The Other Side: Truthfully, there isn’t one. Even if the recipe isn’t for you, there’s no fault to be found here. The recipes allow for - perhaps even encourage - nuance; don’t like anchovies? Fine, just use an extra sprinkle of salt instead. Don’t want to make your own puff pastry? Then don’t, ready rolled is perfectly acceptable. If there is a team of hard-working chefs and writers behind the scenes endlessly testing and perfecting each recipe then they’re very well hidden, Slater’s voice being so prominent behind the pages that it’s hard to imagine they are made by any other hands.
What we actually learned
Slater’s writing is as comforting as arriving home after a long day, his words are the soft glow of a lamp at a window, the sound of a kettle as it clicks into life, the key in a lock as a loved one arrives. It isn’t about big menus and themed meals with endless sides, but more so about the conversation which is to be had around the table, the rituals which are to be found and the memories to be made. They are recipes to be cooked again and again, until the process becomes muscle memory and elements of a dish can be reimagined and repurposed at length. If there is a single cookbook that could encourage someone to start cooking, this would be it.
Next month
Join us as we delve into Julius Roberts’ debut book, ‘The Farm Table’, chronicling a year of seasonal eating on a first-generation farm, where the ingredients are respected and valued above all else. Roberts has a deep respect for the animals and vegetables he cooks with and invites audiences to join him to understand more about the farming process and its equal challenges and rewards.