What’s up? You haven’t had a look on your face like that since your tortoise died.
I’m not sure I can go through this again
It’s another one. By him.
Have you had a stroke? What are you talking about?
Gill Meller, he’s got a new book out.
Don’t tell me you don’t remember. The last one was during lockdown. I’m still not really over it.
Oh, you mean Gill Meller, alumni of Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall’s River Cottage organization and chef, food writer and teacher. His first book Gather won the Fortnum and Mason award for Best Debut Food Book in 2017 and his other books include root, steam, leaf, flower and Time, both of which you’ve reviewed.
Why are you talking like that? You sound like a newspaper article or something.
I’m not talking like anything. Anyway, I don’t know why you’ve got such a problem with him, I think he’s great. The books always look fantastic, and his recipes are ace. Let me see. Oh, it’s Andrew Montgomery doing the pics. I like him. That one of Meller in the woods, that’s stunning.
Hmm, what do you know? I’m the cookbook blogger. Give it here. Actually, before you do, check something for me.
What? That Gill Meller is still better looking and more successful than you, you bitter old…
Poetry. Is there any poetry in the book?
Oh, good point. That’s what tipped you over the edge last time wasn’t it? Let me have a look. Nope, nothing, unless you count the recipe for ‘The Bacon Sandwich’ which is better than an Amanda Gorman stanza.
It’s called ‘the’ bacon sandwich?
Yeah. Why? What’s the problem with that?
Nothing. Not really, it’s just, you know…
Oh God, I remember, you’ve got a problem with his recipe titles, haven’t you? ‘Unnecessarily overwritten, arch and twee constructions like ‘A tart for May’ and ‘Aubergines and roast tomatoes for everything’ are like fingernails down a blackboard to me’ is what you said. What is wrong with you?
Tell me some other titles, go on. Do your worst, let’s get it over with.
Well, sorry to disappoint you, but they’re all just sort of normal.
What?! Let me see.
Alright, don’t snatch! Learn some manners.
This is weird, ‘Salted cabbage salad with chestnut mushrooms and flaked seaweed’, ‘Wild garlic polenta with barbecued asparagus and crispy stinging nettles’. They are just sort of normal. No poetry, no offensive recipe titles. It’s almost like he’s read my review.
Oh, do not flatter yourself! You sound ridiculous.
I’ll have you know I’m an internationally renowned food writer.
What is Outside actually about? Let me have a look at the back cover. ‘We shouldn’t be shutting doors anymore – we should be opening them’. That’s terrible advice. One, obvious security issue, who leaves their front door open? Two, you’re going to let all the heat out and no one can afford to do that, hasn’t he heard about the cost-of-living crisis? And three, you’re not really using the full functionality of a door if you’re just opening it are you? Doors by their very nature open and close. You might as well just have a hole in the wall if you’re never going to shut it. Stands to reason.
Very funny, have you considered a career in stand up? Russell Howard must be shitting himself.
Anyway, it doesn’t make any sense, I’m going to have to read the introduction, aren’t I?
I see you’ve deliberately ignored the bit on the back cover where it also says ‘Gill Meller’s new book Outside is a thoughtful celebration of the joys of cooking and eating outdoors’, but you know, comic effect is more important than accuracy. And it is your bloody job to read the introduction.
Read out the best bits otherwise there’s just going to be a blank space.
You mean a silence?
Erm, yeah, whatever.
I’m through the first paragraph, no problem. I think everything’s going to be OK…
Well done you. Keep going. You’re a hero.
Oh shit…spoke too soon.
What is it now? Jesus.
Writing. Creative writing. So much. Can’t breathe. Heart is racing. Must stay calm.
Read it out, you’ll feel better. We’ll all feel better.
What do you mean ‘we’ll all feel better’? Who is ‘we’?
Just read it, there’s a dear.
So, he’s writing about moving to the countryside from the town when he was a kid and getting into bird watching as way of adapting to the change. Which is all fine, and then he says, ‘the rooks would fall on to the wing and dance up over the pine, tumbling, shrieking, wheeling to the weather. They cut a shifty, marauding form, but squabbled with eloquence as they turned and raked together, a black ballet in the afternoon.’
Gosh. That’s…a lot. It’s very descriptive though, isn’t it? I mean, who wouldn’t enjoy a black ballet in the afternoon. Don’t get distracted, what’s the book actually about?
OK, now were getting to it. He’s having a Proust’s madeleine moment except it involves a flask of soup and some bread. The general idea seems to be that by cooking and eating outside we can reconnect with a kinder gentler time when we were closer to nature and not so tied to technology.
What, by having a picnic?
Well, you can’t beat Ginster’s and a packet of Frazzles in the park can you?
Don’t forget your four pack of Special Brew, will you? That doesn’t sound very ‘elemental’ does it, you’re not going to discover ‘another aspect of our primal hardwiring’ with that heart attack on a paper plate are you? No, Gill has something a little more sophisticated in mind for you, like wild mushroom and thyme sausage rolls or a ham hock, potato and parsley terrine.
Ooh, fancy. Actually, I do fancy that. Go on, what else is in the book?
Why don’t you have a look yourself?
Because you’ve got to tell me. Otherwise, this doesn’t work.
What won’t work? Honestly, you are in a strange mood today. Well, there’s a chapter on cooking over fire, one on eating out (don’t even think about making a joke, it’s beneath even you) that’s based around raw preparations, a chapter on camping out (I’ll just pause for a moment here. Are you done? Good) which is really just more cooking over fire, a section on wild things (foraging) and an early autumn feast that’s based around setting a sheep on fire by the looks of things.
That doesn’t sound very PC.
Hold that call to PETA. It says, ‘A Sheep on Fire’ but what it actually means is ‘A Sheep on a Fire’ which is an entirely different thing. It’s already dead and has had a pole stuck up its…
That’s quite enough detail thanks. So, what are you cooking for us tonight then, oh former Masterchef semi-finalist.
Can you be a ‘former Masterchef semi-finalist’? You either are or you aren’t. It’s a bit like being a president.
What, do you tart about insisting people call you by your title? When they ask you for your name at Starbucks do say ‘Masterchef semi-finalist Lynes’.
No, of course not. At least not since the, er, incident. I’m not cooking anything if you’re just going to take the piss.
Just pick a recipe.
Alright, I’m thinking. I’m not setting fire to a sheep, that’s for sure. I could make the hispi cabbage with miso, honey, tamari and sesame. Sounds nice. Oh, hold on, I’ll need ‘a bed of hot chunky embers’ and some clay to wrap the cabbage in. Maybe not. Smokey anchovies with baked wet garlic? But where am I going to get fresh anchovy fillet and wet garlic from? Venison cured with blackberries, elderberries, juniper and bay…no good, got to marinate the meat for 24 hours.
You’re just looking for problems, aren’t you? Give me the book. Look, what’s wrong with lentils cooked with garlic, chilli and rosemary with baked eggs and kale. Or spatchcock chicken, aioli and toast. Or a lovely vegetarian ‘Campervan’ stew?
Sorry, I didn’t hear you.
I said ‘nothing’.
Right then. Supermarket it is. Well, shall we go?
Yes, let’s go.
They do not move.
Suitable for: For confident home cooks/professional chefs
Cookbook Review Rating: Three stars
Buy this book: Outside by Gill Meller
£30, Hardie Grant