TV chefs – Page 2

Restaurant Gordon Ramsay: A Story of Excellence by Gordon Ramsay

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

Buy this book: Restaurant Gordon Ramsay: A Story of Excellence by Gordon Ramsay

as cooked on Tik Tok

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

Buy this book: as cooked on Tik Tok
£20, Ebury Press

Review written by Stephen Rötzsch Thomas a Nottingham-based writer. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @srotzschthomas

Lemon tart with lemon passion fruit curd by Mary Berry

260_Lemon_passion_fruit_tart_V1

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.

Read the review
Coming soon

Buy this book: Mary Berry’s Baking Bible
£28, BBC Books

Banoffee Pie by Mary Berry

356_Banoffee_pie

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.

Read the review
Coming soon

Buy this book: Mary Berry’s Baking Bible
£28, BBC Books

Large All-In-One Victoria Sandwich by Mary Berry

033_Large_allinone_Victoria_Sandwich

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.

Read the review
Coming soon

Buy this book: Mary Berry’s Baking Bible
£28, BBC Books

Ottolenghi Test Kitchen: Extra Good Things by Yotam Ottolenghi, Noor Murad et al

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

Buy this book: Ottolenghi Test Kitchen: Extra Good Things by Yotam Ottolenghi, Noor Murad et al
£25, Ebury Press

Review written by Nick Dodd a Leeds-based pianist, teacher and writer. Contact him at www.yorkshirepiano.co.uk

Cooking by Jeremy Lee

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

Buy this book: Cooking by Jeremy Lee
£30, Fourth Estate

Winner of the 2022 Andre Simon Food Award

Potato by James Martin

What’s the USP? I can’t believe you didn’t get this from the title. It is Potato, a book that celebrates the potato, by the human equivalent of a Maris Piper, James Martin.

I know that name. He’s the Saturday morning guy, right? Martin has been a mainstay of our weekend television for sixteen years now, yes – first on the BBC’s Saturday Kitchen, and more recently for ITV’s Saturday Morning with James Martin. But let’s not pretend those are his only credentials – he won acclaim from restaurant critic Jay Rayner for his work at The Talbot Hotel and, last year, relaunched everybody’s least favourite option at the food court, SpudULike in collaboration with potato company Albert Bartlett.

So this new book is a cynical ploy funded by Big Potato? Now, now. It’s also entirely possible Martin is massively enthusiastic about taters. Whatever the case, ingredient-focused cookbooks are something of a miniature trend right now, from Claire Thomson’s Tomato to the Lea-Wilson family’s Sea Salt. Also, at the very least, the book gives us one of the most unintentionally funny front covers in recent memory: an uncertain looking Martin in front of what may as well be a stock photo of spuds, and, in massive letters at the bottom of it all ‘Potato James Martin’. Brilliant. Five out of five for that then.

So it’s a five star cookbook then? Woah, woah, woah. Easy now. It’s a five-star cookbook cover. The actual book itself is a lot less impressive. Titles that lean in heavy on single ingredients live and die on two things: the insight they offer around that ingredient, and the use they make of the ingredient in the recipes. Claire Thomson, for example, is a passionate champion of the tomato, and offered a range of vibrant and original dishes in her title. Sea Salt, which presented a wealth of recipes that used salt but, for obvious reasons, didn’t make it the star ingredient, struggled.

Martin doesn’t offer us much insight at all into the history of the potato, which is a great shame, given the fascinating impact it has had on our culinary world. A staple of diets across South America for perhaps ten thousand years, they did not find their way to Europe until the late 1600s, and yet have since become an indispensable part of our daily cuisine.

Our potato-loving author doesn’t seem all that bothered with sharing this history with us, though. In fact, the history of the spud gets about two sentences of attention across the entire book. But then, this is not a title for those who are looking for effusive food writing. The recipe introductions occasionally offer a little insight into a dish’s provenance – but frequently Martin phones them in with the briefest filler text. His introduction to a recipe for a sandwich is printed simply as ‘Why not?! The question is: to butter or not to butter…? You know it makes sense!’

It might make sense, James, but do you?

What about the recipes themselves? There are some dishes to play around with here, certainly, but for the most part Martin delivers to a core audience of fans who don’t want to try anything too wacky. Potatoes might be the embodiment of unshowy workmanship in vegetables, but their versatility also opens them up to a much more interesting range of recipes than those on show here.

Martin leans on the most obvious of dishes but does them well. And so, we have Coquilles St Jacques, Tartiflette, Fish and Chips, and Lamb Hot Pot. There’s also plenty of room for the greatest hits that always pop up in the cookbooks of popular TV chefs: beer can chickens and hasselback potatoes.

Does he venture any further afield than France for his recipes? Thankfully, yes – and this is where some of the cookbook’s few unexpected ideas get a look in. There’s the always tempting South African curry-in-a-loaf-of-bread, Bunny Chow, and Sweet Potato and Pecan Cookies. One recipe pairs a humble crab cake with a katsu curry sauce – though Martin is quick to credit this to Ynyshir’s Gareth Ward. And that’s… that’s about it for the book. There’s a short section towards the back that offers up stand-alone potato recipes for those occasions when you want to knock up some Pommes Parisienne or Dauphinoise as a side, and a very handy chart that shares the various uses of twenty-eight of the most common varieties, but neither of these are worth the price of admission by themselves.

Should I buy it? The thing with potatoes is that they aren’t exactly under-represented in cookbooks already. Do you have five to ten cookbooks on your shelf? Are two of them centred on English or French cuisine? Then you’ve probably already got most of what you’ll find here at your fingertips. This is a book for fans of Martin, and people who enjoy owning cookbooks with inadvertently funny front covers, and that’s about it.

Cuisine: European
Suitable for: Beginner home cooks
Cookbook Review Rating: Two stars

Buy this book: Potato by James Martin

Review written by Stephen Rötzsch Thomas a Nottingham-based writer. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @srotzschthomas

Torta pastiera by Theo Randall

This recipe is inspired by my friend Maria Hedley, who originates from Sorrento and has made torta pastiera for me on many occasions. Last Easter (the traditional time for eating it), at her place in Dorset, we had had a magnificent Neapolitan lunch of cannelloni and needed a long walk to burn off the carbs. We walked for miles and miles along the stunning coastline, and throughout the walk we had the happy thought that we still had the torta pastiera to return to. Long strides of anticipation carried us back to Maria’s, where she made a pot of hot coffee, gave us each a small glass of cold, homemade orange liqueur (much like limoncello but with orange) and a slice of her torta… Heaven. As a tip: the great thing about this cake is that it tastes even better after a couple of days.

Serves 8

For the pastry
250g (9oz) tipo OO flour
100g (3½oz) unsalted butter
75g (2½oz) icing (confectioner’s) sugar, plus extra for dusting
pinch of sea salt
1 egg, beaten
2 tablespoons whole milk
1 tablespoon runny honey
zest of 1 lemon
zest of 1 orange

For the filling
150g (5½oz) grano cotto (or, pre-boil some risotto rice in water for 15 minutes until al dente; drain and cool)
350ml (12fl oz) whole milk
zest of 1 lemon
2 whole eggs
2 egg yolks
250g (9oz) caster (superfine) sugar
400g (14oz) sheep’s ricotta
75g (2½oz) candied orange and lemon peel, chopped
seeds from 1 vanilla pod
2 tablespoons orange blossom water (optional)

First make the pastry. Sift the flour into a large bowl, and add the butter, icing (confectioner’s) sugar and salt. Run your hands under the cold tap for a minute to make sure they are really cold, then dry them and, using your fingertips, work everything together until the mixture is almost like breadcrumbs. Add the beaten egg, along with the milk, honey and lemon and orange zests. Mix well to combine, bringing the dough together into a smooth ball. Flatten the ball into a disc about 2cm (¾in) thick with the palm of your hand. Wrap the disc in cling film (plastic wrap) and leave it in the fridge to rest for 15 minutes.

Preheat the oven to 170°C/150°C fan/325°F/Gas 3.

Meanwhile, make the filling. Place the rice in a large saucepan with the milk and lemon zest. Place the pan over a medium heat and bring the mixture to a simmer. Simmer for 15 minutes, then pour the mixture out over a large, clean baking tray to cool down.

In a large bowl, ideally with an electric hand whisk, whisk the whole eggs and egg yolks with the caster (superfine) sugar until pale in colour. In another bowl, again using the electric hand whisk if you have one, whisk the ricotta for about 4 minutes so it is light and fluffy. Fold the ricotta into the beaten eggs. Add the cold cooked rice mixture, candied orange and lemon peel, vanilla seeds and orange blossom water (if using). Gently fold everything together so all the ingredients are well combined. Leave to one side.

Dust your work surface with icing (confectioner’s) sugar and remove the pastry from the fridge. Roll out the pastry to a disc about 5mm (¼in) thick, then transfer the disc to a loose-bottomed cake tin and press the pastry into the tin, leaving an overhang. Using a sharp knife, cut off the excess pastry and shape these trimmings into a ball. Roll out the ball of trimmings to a rectangle about 5mm (¼in) thick and, using a pasta ravioli cutter, cut strips from the rectangle of dough. Leave to one side.

Pour the filling mixture into the raw pastry case, then cover it with the strips of pastry and trim any overhang (see photograph). Bake the torta for 80 minutes, until a skewer inserted into the centre comes out clean. Transfer the torta in the tin to a wire rack and leave it to cool completely. You can eat it on the day you bake it, but Italians tend to eat it at least one day after baking, as the flavour just gets better. Dust with icing (confectioner’s) sugar before serving.

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The Italian Pantry by Theo Randall

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The Italian Pantry by Theo Randall
£26, Hardie Grant

Paccheri with leeks, parmesan and prosciutto di Parma by Theo Randall

I first had a leek pasta dish at a restaurant called Da Cesare in Monforte D’Alba back in the mid-90s. It was probably one of the best meals I have ever eaten. The fresh pappardelle was almost orange in colour as it had so much egg yolk in the dough. The leeks had been very slowly cooked and were so sweet in flavour – a great example of how a single ingredient cooked carefully can turn into something amazing.

In this recipe I have used paccheri pasta, which is lovely as the sauce gets stuck inside the tubes. I think it has the best texture of all dried pastas. The addition of cream brings out the salty prosciutto di Parma flavour. If you prefer, you can use butter.

Serves 4

6 slices of prosciutto di Parma, sliced
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
2 leeks, cut into 1cm (½in) pieces and thoroughly washed
100ml (3½fl oz) double (heavy) cream 1 tablespoon chopped flat-leaf parsley leaves
1 garlic clove, crushed to a paste with a little sea salt
500g (1lb 2oz) dried paccheri
100g (3½oz) parmesan, grated, plus extra to serve
sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

Heat a large, non-stick frying pan over a medium heat. Add the sliced prosciutto di Parma and cook it for a couple of minutes until crispy, then remove it from the pan and set it aside. Add the olive oil to the frying pan, then add the leeks, and cook them for 20 minutes over a low heat, stirring occasionally. When the leeks are soft and sticky, add the cream, parsley, garlic and crispy prosciutto. Stir and keep everything over a low heat while you cook the paccheri.

Bring a large saucepan of salted water to a boil. Add the paccheri one piece at a time so that the pasta doesn’t stick together. Stir well (paccheri is a heavy pasta so can stick to the bottom of the pan if you’re not careful) and cook the pasta for 3 minutes less than the packet suggests. Use a slotted spoon to remove the pasta from the water and add it to the frying pan. Add 2 ladlefuls of pasta cooking water to the sauce and cook the pasta and sauce together for a further 2 minutes, stirring all the time.

Sprinkle in the parmesan and toss the pasta so the sauce emulsifies and coats the tubes. Add a little more pasta water if you need to. Serve in warmed bowls with extra parmesan and black pepper sprinkled on top.

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The Italian Pantry by Theo Randall

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The Italian Pantry by Theo Randall
£26, Hardie Grant