cookbook

Sohn-mat by Monica Lee and The Korean Cookbook by Junghyun Park and Jungyoon Choi

It doesn’t take a genius to work out that there is often a great void between the chef and the home cook. Though both are creating dishes for consumption, the context, methods, and sheer scale of their work differs tremendously. The same considerations should be made when a professional chef – particularly those operating in fine dining environments – write a cookbook.

It’s something I regrettably neglected to aptly reflect on when I reviewed Niklas Ekstedt’s ridiculously lavish entry into the canon a few years ago. How can I, a home cook in urban Britain, be expected to source reindeer hearts, I asked. I don’t even have an Ikea food hall near me.

But, of course, I wasn’t the intended audience. Ekstedt didn’t expect me, of all people, to knock up one of his many dishes that called for the cook to first gather their hay. Hell, he didn’t even expect most of the chefs who bought the book to build a fire from dried grass on his behalf. Most cookbooks by acclaimed chefs are about the theory of cooking as much as they are about the cooking itself. About sharing gastronomical philosophies, flavour combinations, and mutually revelling in what it means to get excited about presenting these bold, delicious ideas for others to taste.

Which is what makes two recent Korean cookbooks so interesting. Both Sohn-mat and The Korean Cookbook have been written by professional chefs with acclaimed restaurants to their name, and both books are aimed specifically at audiences looking to bring Korean flavours into their homes. The challenge here, then, is for the authors to translate their professional interest in cooking into a language that is relevant for domestic kitchens.

Monica Lee, the writer behind Sohn-mat, has a definite head start in this process. Lee was, before she opened her much-loved restaurant Beverly Soon Tofu in LA, a home cook with a small but very loyal fanbase of friends and family. Amongst the many Korean dishes she would recreate in her kitchen was the soon tofu chigae that she eventually became famous for.

Lee’s restaurant, opened in 1986, was entirely focused on this relatively low-key dish – a nutritious bowl normally associated with affordable diners in Korea. Beverly Soon Tofu closed in the midst of the pandemic, and Lee’s book is its legacy; her way of connecting with people one more time, and empowering them to create the food she served for over three decades.

In a move that feels spiritually aligned with the cookbooks of Michelin-starred chefs, most of the first eighty pages of Sohn-mat are dedicated wholly to recreating this dish. This means in-depth looks at the sourcing and handling of ttukbaegi – the clay pot Lee served her custardy tofu in. There are tips on ingredients and methodology, and no less than twenty-two recipes for components and variations so that the reader can recreate soon tofu chigae at home exactly the way they like it best.

Though Lee goes to lengths to make these recipes accessible, and considers almost every obstacle a home cook might come up against, the approach can feel a little overwhelming. To serve up a by-the-book version of the restaurant’s popular Combination Soon Tofu, home cooks will need to commit to making a beef broth from scratch, as well as preparing marinated short rib trimmings, and a seasoned red pepper paste that requires a day’s rest in the fridge before use. It’s not impossible by any means, but it does put the dish firmly into the ‘best saved for the weekend category’.

Beyond soon tofu chigae, Lee offers a wide ranging look at other Korean dishes. Starting with banchan – side dishes served alongside rice – we are presented with plenty of bright vegetable dishes and a select few for carnivores (who are given a much broader selection to choose from in a later section of sharing platters).

Lee’s recipes tend to be relatively wordy and this, combined with ingredients lists that feature those extra recipes to prepare in advance, can make the dishes look like a lot of work. And look, it’s a busy book – filled to the brim with tips and adjustments for different dietary needs – but the dishes are usually easier than they look. Those preparatory recipes only exist because Lee has offered DIY options for ingredients you can just buy off the shelf if you need. Save yourself the time and use standard soy sauce instead of Lee’s seasoned version, or any garlic you like, instead of her pre-blended take. If Sohn-mat has any real flaw, it is not that it is too difficult for home cooks – but rather that the writing and design makes everything look like a lot more effort than it really is.

Offering an even broader look at Korean cuisine is Phaidon’s The Korean Cookbook, written by Junghyun Park and Jungyoon Choi. Park is best known for Atomix, which was this year named the 8th best restaurant in the world by World’s 50 Best Restaurants. It’s one of four Korean-oriented restaurants he runs in New York, which puts him very much at the high-end of chefs-turned-writers. His co-author Choi is a research and development chef for Sempio Foods and – not that I’m claiming any foul play – Academy Vice Chair of Korea & China at World’s 50 Best Restaurants.

The Korean Cookbook is the latest entry in Phaidon’s ongoing mission to publish the definitive tome for any cuisine you care to imagine. The series always has its strengths and weaknesses, which we’ve covered over the years here. Historically, one of the series’ biggest issues has been a lack of context for the dishes presented. Here, thankfully, we see perhaps the most in-depth look at a cuisine that Phaidon have yet offered readers. Park and Choi offer an extensive forty-page introductory section exploring the concept of hansik, or Korean cuisine. There are also useful introduction to chapters on fermentation, and the different components that make up a meal in Korea. Perhaps most importantly – and frequently missing in older entries to the series, each recipe is given vital context.

The grand scope of the book means that there are over 350 recipes to choose from. Readers can be certain that any Korean dish they already know and want to recreate will be here – there are two options for the nation’s distinctive take on fried chicken, and three for bulgogi. But the joy is in discovering the unexpected, and there are plenty of exciting new ideas here for readers to explore, from Pan-Roasted Acorn Jelly to Ray with Bean Sprout Jjim and Yuja (Yuzu) Punch.

There are, as is often the case with Phaidon’s books, a large number of cases where audiences not actually based in Korea will struggle to source ingredients. Even the best stocked Asian supermarket is unlikely to provide stonecrop. Of course, this authenticity is what readers come to the series for. But sometimes it feels as though it goes too far – so much of this book is celebrating home cooking, but the authors make no effort to offer advice on substituting hard-to-find ingredients.

This is a particular shame for those looking to recreate those iconic dishes – both The Korean Cookbook and Sohn-Mat are all too keen to include pre-mixed cooking powders in their recipes. Park and Choi use a store-bought seasoned flour mix for both fried chicken recipes, but offer no DIY substitute. The jeon (pancake) recipes across the books almost all call for ‘Korean pancake mix’ but, again, offer no substitute. In offering an authentic view of Korean home cooking, The Korean Cookbook is a success. In making the dishes universally accessible, less so.

But then, do people come to cookbooks that explore other cuisines expecting the author to present every dish as a simple half-hour recipe? It takes millennia to form the way a nation eats – The Korean Cookbook offers a potted history that starts in the neolithic period. It shouldn’t be a matter of rocking up at the tail end of this evolution and demanding simple translations. And, frankly, if that is what you’re looking for, we’re probably only six months out from a six-part BBC2 series and accompanying book: Rick Stein’s Korea.

For now we should relish that we are being offered so many nuanced, informative takes on one of the most unique and flavour-filled cuisines in the world. Time to move beyond bulgogi, and get into the real heart of Korean cooking.

Cuisine: Korean
Suitable for: Confident home cooks
Cookbook Review Rating: Four stars/Four stars

Buy these books:
Sohn-mat by Monica Lee, £25, Hardie Grant US
The Korean Cookbook by Junghyun Park and Jungyoon Choi , £39.95, Phaidon Press

Cook from The Korean Cookbook

Indian Vegan and Vegetarian by Mridula Baljekar

What’s the USP? Why, it’s a big old book of vegan and vegetarian dishes drawn from the eternally diverse world of Indian food. Two hundred of them, in fact, organised by region.

I think you’ve misunderstood the concept of ‘USP’. It is true that this is far from the first Indian cookbook to hone in on the plant-based cookbook trend. There are already much-loved offerings from the likes of Madhur Jaffrey, Meera Sodha and Romy Gill.

This new title comes from Mridula Baljekar, an award-winning cookbook writer who has sold over a million copies of her titles, which frequently focus on the regional cuisines of India. This latest volume has a pretty flashy look by her usual standards – the vibrant cover art echoing the style of Gill’s recent Zaika, as well as Yasmin Khan’s Palestinian doppelgänger Zaitoun.

So a contemporary new look for Baljekar’s books? Well, not quite. The insides of the cookbook feel curiously dated. From the writing to the design, and even the glossy paper of the pages, Indian Vegan & Vegetarian has a distinctly textbook-esque vibe. The lengthy introductory section is filled with sub-headings and stock photos. Regional maps could be drawn straight from a Year 8 Geography lesson.

Textbooks do tend to be rather useful though, don’t they? They do! And Baljekar’s book is no different. Though it lacks stylistic pizazz, it is packed tightly with excellent recipes, pairing suggestions, practical advice and cultural insights. There are tips for variations and techniques that will aid the home cook, and the tremendous range of delicious and varied dishes manage to almost exclusively use readily accessible ingredients.

How often will I cook from the book? For those living their lives out of vegan and vegetarian cookbooks, this could prove a definitive volume on their shelves. The sheer breadth of ideas on offer here mean that you could easily draw from this a couple of times a week without getting bored. The regional chapters allow readers to build up culturally-connected menus with ease too – Baljekar’s recipe introductions frequently include directions to appropriate accompaniments.

Very few of the dishes leap out as being genuinely innovative or even particularly exciting, though. Baljekar offers up plenty of authentic dishes, but those looking for dinner party show-stoppers or even something to brighten up a weekend dinner would be better served exploring other recent releases. Though the design of this book might allude to an era where bold ideas for vegan meals were a rarity, these days few major cookbooks are released where there are not at least a few delicious options.

Killer recipes: Baljekar’s Crushed Parsnips in Mustard Oil represent one of the few occasions where the book rears away from traditional Indian ingredients, and as such comes across not only as one of the most tempting recipes present, but also a potential way to inject some imagination into the sides at Christmas dinner.

Elsewhere the Batter-fried Spinach Leaves bring an echo of tempura to proceedings, and the Cinnamon and Clove Cheese Curry is a stand-out that combines some unexpected flavours in a very satisfying way.

Should I buy it? Baljekar is not offering anything new in Vegan & Vegetarian Indian. In fact, she’s continuing her long-standing tendency towards producing modest but thorough Indian cookbooks that forgo showmanship in favour of authentic regional expertise. This isn’t a must-buy volume, but it’ll be a rare home cook who can’t draw regular inspiration from it nonetheless.

Cuisine: Indian
Suitable for: Beginner / confident home cooks
Cookbook Review Rating: Four stars

Buy this book
Indian Vegan & Vegetarian: 200 traditional plant-based recipes
£20, Lorenz Books

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

Jane’s Patisserie by Jane Dunn

What’s the USP? It’s a baking cookbook from an influencer. Does that count as a USP? It doesn’t feel like it should count as a USP. The cookbook world seems to have almost as many influencers as it does TV chefs these days, and it’s easy to be cynical the moment you see Zoë Sugg’s name on the cover of something. But in a world of rushed out books cashing in on popular Insta accounts and fair-to-decent runs on Great British Bake Off, perhaps we can identify the real unexpected USP of Jane’s Patisserie: it’s actually really quite good.

Who wrote it? Jane, of course. More specifically, Jane Dunn, who launched her blog in 2014 while she was training at cookery school. She’s since grown a formidable following – Ebury’s press release is filled with large follower counts for the blog, her Instagram and her Facebook. The visual vibes the book gives off fit this audience neatly – bright and perfectly composed pictures of elaborate cakes that seem custom made to attract a quick double tap in-app.

Is it good bedtime reading? The big cliché about recipe blogs is well known: each recipe is preceded by acres of SEO-friendly storytelling about how much the author loves autumn, or the wonderful time they had at the local farmer’s market. Jane can be a little guilty of this on her blog, where you’ll have to scroll through an obscene amount of near identical photos of her Peanut Butter NYC Cookies before you can actually discover how to make them – but not so here. A short paragraph precedes each recipe, and then it’s all business.

How annoyingly vague are the recipes? Not even remotely. In fact, this is where Jane’s Patisserie really shines. Recipes and ingredient lists alike are separated into different sections for each element of the bake, and there are frequently bonus sections featuring technical tips or ideas for customisation.

What’s the faff factor? Baking always has at least a medium faff level, doesn’t it? But Jane’s clear instructions, and the useful guide to how long each recipe will take means that home cooks can dive into any bake in the book with confidence that there’ll be no little surprises along the way.

How often will I cook from the book? More than you really should, most likely. Baking books are the most dangerous breed of cookbooks, because if you really connect with the full range of recipes within, you’re essentially just committing yourself to consuming several dozen kilograms of sugar. And Jane’s Patisserie is overloaded with tempting, simple treats that would send a dietician into a shame spiral just by looking at them. There’s a whole section dedicated to cheesecakes, for a start – and themes often reappear elsewhere in the book. Chocolate Cheesecake Doughnuts, for example, or Cheesecake Truffles, or Chocolate Cheesecake Crêpes. You will cook from this book regularly, right up until the moment you keel over.

What will I love? The little touches throughout – the fact that each recipe comes with every bit of information you might need, right down to how long the dish will last once you’ve made it, and how it should be stored.

What won’t I love? It’s a small qualm, but if you’re feeling cynical you may tire of the relentless cheeriness of the book’s tone. The only acid in this book comes from the fruit in your tarts and babkas.

Killer recipes: Red Velvet Cheesecake, Cookies & Cream Drip Cake, Banoffee Cupcakes, Chocolate Raspberry Rolls, Sticky Toffee Brownies, Key Lime Pie, Malt Chocolate Fudge

Should I buy it? Jane’s Patisserie is an instantly accessible and incredibly practical book – an ideal starting place for young chefs or those who are new to baking. The treats aren’t exactly subtle – Jane’s is a high-street patisserie serving bold flavours, rather than a subtle Parisian shop selling delicate bites and viennoiseries. But there’s scarcely a recipe in the book that you couldn’t guiltily consume single-handedly if left alone with it. It leaves the reader wishing that more cookbooks were put together with this much care and attention to detail.

Cuisine: British/American
Suitable for: Beginner cooks and beyond
Cookbook Review Rating: Five stars

Cook from this book
Coming soon

Buy this book
Jane’s Patisserie: Deliciously customisable cakes, bakes and treats
£20, Ebury Press

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

monk by Yoshihiro Imai

What’s the USP? Recipes and stories from monk in Kyoto, a 14 seat restaurant located on the philosophers path on the outskirts of the city where locally sourced ingredients are cooked with fire and the signature dish is, surprisingly, pizza.

Who wrote it? Yoshihiro Imai is the chef and owner of monk. Born in the small village of Mito-city, 60 miles northeast of Tokyo, Imai studied sociology at university, but an interest in baking bread and a stint working in a mountain resort hotel in Karuizawa lead Imai to take a job as a chef at enboca, a nearby pizza restaurant. Imai opened a sister restaurant to enboca in Kyoto in 2010. Inspired by a short internship at Noma, Imai opened monk in 2015.

Is it good bedtime reading? Food writing often falls flat when it aspires to any sort of literary merit, lapsing into adjective-heavy, pseudo-poetic cliché that manages to express little more than the author’s desire to be taken seriously at all costs, including the text’s clarity and use to the reader. But, in a series of beautifully written essays about his life, career and culinary philosophy that includes subjects such as Oharah village market; Yoshida Farm cheese from the mountains of Okayama, and Yu Sasaki, ‘the mushroom whisperer’ of Iwate prefecture in Honshu, Imai communicates what is obviously a very deeply felt and considered passion for ingredients, the process of cooking and the nature and art of hospitality with a welcome directness and simplicity. For example (just one of many):

‘For us at monk, lighting the oven each day has become part of our daily lives, and we spend the entire day living with fire. The guests who join us at the counter end up gazing at the flames in silence during gaps in their conversation. Fire must have some kind of power to bring us back to our roots, to something ancient within us, and inspire philosophical thoughts. By cooking almost everything entirely by the heat of the fire at monk, I hope our guests can connect with this part of them through the food we share with them.’

What does it look like? There is an elemental simplicity and beauty to Imai’s food. Even a bowl of turnip soup looks like a work of art – swirled with purees of turnip greens and carrots and served in an elegant grey and blue-flecked artisan ceramic ‘vessel’ (of a large dark blue dish made by Taniai-based ceramicist Teppei Ono, Imai says, ‘Looking at it, I get the sensation that this is not a plate, but a hole in space through which one can peer into a deep ocean.’) The signature pizzas – made perhaps with fresh nori or fiddlehead ferns and koshiabura (the sprouts of a wild tree) – are extraordinary. Kyoto itself, depicted through the seasons (the book is divided into spring, summer, autumn and winter) looks like heaven on earth, with lush greenery, vibrant blossoms, crystal waters and open blue skies in the spring and summer; rich red and orange foliage in the autumn and a land of moss and frosts in the winter. At the risk of repeating myself on this blog, the publisher Phaidon are past masters at creating visually pleasing cookbooks, but monk is simply ravishing.

Will I have trouble finding ingredients? If you want to follow the recipes to the letter and you don’t live in Japan, you are going to run into problems. Try tracking down Shogoin turnip, shirako bamboo shoots (‘the fresh heads of the shoots before they appear above ground’, explains Imai), seri (Japanese parsley), yomogi (Japanese mugwort), or nanohana blossoms in Middlesbrough(or London, probably).

What’s the faff factor? If you have a wood fired oven and you can navigate your way through the ingredients lists, finding reasonable substitutes for items that Imai sources locally in Kyoto, then often the recipes are fairly straightforward to execute. Some dishes, including slow-roasted napa cabbage; tomato soup, and the pizza dough recipe could even be adapted for a domestic oven, with a bit of tweaking. The reality for many home cooks however will be that this is a book to read, enjoy, marvel at and dream of visiting monk one day to experience it all for yourself, rather than try and replicate at home. Professional chefs are more likely to have the skills resources and suppliers to make more practical use of the book, especially those based in Japan.

What will I love? monk captures Imai’s distinctive, individual and inspiringly soulful culinary expression. It’s a complete pleasure to read and to gaze at Yuka Yanazume’s gorgeous images.

What won’t I love? This is probably not a book that you will be cooking from on a regular basis.

Killer recipes: pea soup; suyaki pizza crust; romaine lettuce, egg and yomogi; cherry leaf roast beef; octopus, red shisho and red onion; assorted roasted vegetables, summer; plum lemon verbena and green tea oil.

Should I buy it? If you are passionate about modern gastronomy and love to travel to eat, this book is for you.

Cuisine: Japanese
Suitable for: Confident home cooks/Professional chefs
Cookbook Review Rating: Four stars

Buy the book
monk: Light and Shadow on the Philosopher’s Path
£29.95, Phaidon

The Curry Guy Thai by Dan Toombs

What’s the USP? An introduction to Thai cooking, The Curry Guy Thai seeks to show readers how to recreate their favourite Thai takeaway recipes at home.

Who wrote it? Dan Toombs, the self-styled ‘Curry Guy’ of the title. The Californian crossed the Atlantic to settle in the UK way back in 1993, and has been something of an obsessive since discovering our nation’s fabulous curry tradition. After starting a curry recipe blog in 2010, Toombs’ popularity began to rise – and his work ethic no doubt has something to do with that. The Curry Guy Thai is his seventh book. His first, The Curry Guy, came out just four years ago.

Is it good bedtime reading? Toombs enjoys giving context to each recipe through relatively detailed introductions, but there isn’t much to keep you entertained beyond those. It would have been nice to see some lengthier chapter introductions that explored the different aspects of Thai food. The country’s cuisine has exploded in popularity of the past few years, and whilst it is available on a much wider level than that of other Southeast Asian nations, there is still plenty of education to offered to a nation who still don’t really understand the difference between green and red curries (it is not, Toombs notes, the spice levels).

What’s the faff factor? This was my first foray into the Curry Guy series and, having seen them all over the cookbook sections for the last few years, I was surprised by certain things. With the mass market publication Toombs’ books have received, their relatively low price (this title has an RRP of £15), and their lack of physical heft (around 150 pages here), I had assumed Toombs was putting out quick recipes that could offer busy families a way to enjoy a semi-authentic takeaway-style dish on a weekday night.

In reality, The Curry Guy Thai offers an earnest attempt at authenticity wherever possible. This is great, in theory – a genuine way to explore Thai cooking at home and capture the flavour of a good takeaway or even restaurant dish. Unfortunately this also means committing yourself to a little more time and effort.

Ingredients lists are pretty long, and frequently stretch beyond the local supermarket shelves, asking you to seek out galangal or lime leaves. With the focus more on true replication than home cooking, Toombs offers recipes that require deep frying when perhaps a shallow fry or oven-based alternative might have been more practical for the reader.

Is it the best way to explore Thai cooking then? The problem quickly becomes that of the competition. It’s been two years since Kay Plunkett-Hogge put out Baan, which has quickly become the benchmark for Thai cookbooks in the UK. That one might have been marketed a little more squarely at enthusiastic hobby cooks, but in truth it outperforms The Curry Guy Thai in every field – more authentic, easier recipes and much more practical for regular weeknight dinners.

There are options to save your energy – allowances for the use of ready made curry pastes instead of the time-consuming homemade version – but when I tried these within the context of the recipes I found them underwhelming.

What will I love? The book does a good job at collecting all of your favourite takeaway dishes, meaning you’ll be able to put together a Thai feast of your own if you ever want to.

What won’t I love? Very few of the recipes are as quick and easy as you’d like, so that Thai feast is going to be quite a bit of work.

Killer recipes: Prawn Toasts, Duck Jungle Curry, Thai Holy Basil and Chilli Chicken Stir Fry, Red Pork Nugget Curry, Choo Chee Salmon

Should I buy it? If you’re a fan of the existing Curry Guy books, this will fit in perfectly on your shelf and offer more of the same stylistically whilst expanding the canon into Thailand. Otherwise, maybe take a moment to explore the other options before committing to this fairly middle-of-the-road cookbook.

Cuisine: Thai
Suitable for: Confident home cooks
Cookbook Review Rating: Three stars

Buy the book
Curry Guy Thai: Recreate Over 100 Classic Thai Takeaway Dishes at Home
£15, Quadrille Publishing Ltd

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

Spicy Sichuan King Trumpet Mushrooms by Ching-He Huang

Serves 2

This is my vegan version of a famous Sichuan pork dish, Hui guo rou, where the meat is boiled in an aromatic stock, then sliced and fried until crisp, and finally stir-fried with chilli, fermented salted black beans and a host of Chinese seasonings. Instead of pork, I am using meaty king trumpet mushrooms. This dish is perfect served with jasmine rice.

kcal — 410
carbs — 80.3g
protein — 10.0g
fat — 7.6g

1 tbsp rapeseed oil
1 tbsp freshly grated root ginger
300g (10½oz) king trumpet mushrooms, sliced into 1cm (½in) rounds
1 tbsp Shaohsing rice wine or dry sherry
1 tbsp chilli bean paste
1 tbsp yellow bean paste
1 tbsp fermented salted black beans, rinsed and crushed
1 spring onion, trimmed and sliced on the angle into julienne strips (optional)
1 tsp dark soy sauce
1 tsp tamari or low-sodium light soy sauce
pinch of golden granulated or caster sugar
pinch of ground white pepper
cooked jasmine rice, to serve (see page 194)

Place a wok over a high heat until smoking, then add the rapeseed oil. Once hot, add the ginger and cook, tossing, for few seconds, then add the mushrooms. As they start to brown, add the rice wine or sherry, then stir in the chilli bean paste and the yellow bean paste, followed by the fermented salted black beans. Add the spring onions, if using, and stir-fry for less than a minute. Season with the dark soy sauce, tamari or light soy sauce, sugar and ground white pepper and give it all one final toss. Serve immediately with jasmine rice.

Read the review

Buy this book
Asian Green: Everyday plant-based recipes inspired by the East
£20, Kyle Books

Smoked Tofu and Broccoli Korean- style Ram-don by Ching-He Huang

Serves 4

kcal — 552
carbs — 57.9g
protein — 30.2g
fat — 21.9g

This is inspired by the beef ram-don in the Korean movie Parasite. I wanted to make a vegan version using chunky smoked tofu, mushrooms and long-stem broccoli. The result is a more-ish, umami-rich, addictively spicy noodle dish. To make the dish speedier, I place the aromatics (garlic, ginger, shallots and chilli) in a food processor and then just add them to the wok.

200g (7oz) dried ramen or udon noodles
1 tbsp toasted sesame oil
2 garlic cloves
2.5cm (1in) piece of fresh root ginger, peeled
3 shallots
2 red chillies, deseeded
1 tbsp cornflour
1 tbsp rapeseed oil
200g (7oz) smoked tofu, drained, rinsed in cold water and sliced into 2cm (¾in) cubes
400g (14oz) firm tofu, drained and sliced into 2cm (¾in) cubes
200g (7oz) fresh shiitake mushrooms
1 tbsp Shaohsing rice wine
2 tbsp dark soy sauce
150g (5½oz) long-stem broccoli, florets sliced lengthwise and stalks sliced into 0.5cm (¼in) rounds
2 tbsp vegetarian mushroom sauce
1 tbsp clear rice vinegar
1 tbsp tamari or low-sodium light soy sauce
2 spring onions, trimmed and finely sliced on the angle into 1cm (½in) slices

Noodle seasoning (per bowl)
1 tsp dark soy sauce and Chiu Chow chilli oil
1 tbsp each tahini and sweet chilli sauce
sprinkle of shichimi togarashi pepper flakes

Cook the noodles according to the packet instructions. Rinse under cold water and drain well, then drizzle over the toasted sesame oil to prevent them from sticking together. Set aside in the colander until needed.

Place the garlic, ginger, shallots and red chillies in a small food processor and blitz to form a paste. Mix the cornflour with 2 tbsp water in a small bowl or cup to make a slurry. Set aside until needed. Heat a wok over a high heat until smoking and add the rapeseed oil. Once hot, add the aromatic paste and cook, stirring, for a few seconds until fragrant. Add both kinds of tofu and the mushrooms. Season with the rice wine and dark soy sauce and toss together well for 1–2 minutes until all the ingredients are coated.

Add the broccoli and cook, tossing, for 1 minute. Stir in the mushroom sauce, rice vinegar and tamari or light soy sauce. Pour in the cornflour slurry to thicken the cooking juices in the wok, and toss to mix well.

Pour some boiling water over the noodles in the colander to reheat them, then divide them between four bowls.

Place a ladleful of the tofu, mushroom and broccoli mixture on one side of the noodles in each bowl, and top with the sliced spring onion. Dress the noodles by drizzling over the dark soy sauce, Chiu Chow chilli oil, tahini and sweet chilli sauce, followed by a generous sprinkle of shichimi togarashi pepper flakes. Serve immediately.

Read the review

Buy this book
Asian Green: Everyday plant-based recipes inspired by the East
£20, Kyle Books

Chinese Sweetcorn Soup with Black Truffle by Ching-He Huang

Serves 2

Who doesn’t love sweetcorn soup? This soup brings out my inner child. The chunky sweetcorn kernels are so satisfying, but I like to add shavings of black truffle for a nutty, rich and decadent treat. If you are a die-hard vegan, then omit the truffle. Truffles are a fungus, but sometimes pigs are used to sniff for them. Whether or not you agree with this depends on your own personal stance. Truffle or no truffle, this Chinese-style sweetcorn soup never fails to hit the spot.

kcal — 247
carbs — 32.9g
protein — 6.8g
fat — 10.5g

1 large tbsp cornflour
1 tbsp rapeseed oil
2.5cm (1in) piece of fresh root ginger, grated
340g (12oz) can sweetcorn, drained
100g (3½oz) cherry tomatoes, halved
1 tsp vegetable bouillon powder
1 tbsp Shaohsing rice wine or dry sherry
8 fresh shiitake mushrooms, sliced
1 tbsp tamari or low-sodium light soy sauce
1 tsp toasted sesame oil
pinch of sea salt
pinch of ground white pepper
2 spring onions, trimmed and finely sliced into rounds
shavings of black truffle (optional), to garnish

In a small bowl, mix the cornflour with 2 tbsp cold water to form a slurry. Set aside until needed. Heat a wok over a high heat and add the rapeseed oil. Once hot, add the ginger and stir-fry for a few seconds, then add the sweetcorn, cherry tomatoes, bouillon powder and rice wine or sherry, along with 600ml (20fl oz) water. Bring to the boil, then add the fresh shiitake mushrooms and cook for 2 minutes. Season with the tamari or light soy sauce, toasted sesame oil, salt and ground white pepper. Pour in the cornflour slurry and stir gently to thicken. Add the spring onions and give the soup one final stir. Divide between two bowls. If using truffles, grate generously over each bowl, then serve immediately.

Read the review

Buy this book
Asian Green: Everyday plant-based recipes inspired by the East
£20, Kyle Books

Cooking on the Big Green Egg by James Whetlor

What’s the USP? A user manual for the Big Green Egg ceramic barbecue (referred to from here on as BGE) that’s a big hit with professional chefs, keen home cooks and barbecue enthusiasts alike, with recipes.

Who’s the author? James Whetlor is probably best known as the owner of the Cabrito goat meat business. He is the author of Goat (read our review here) and is a former chef who worked in London and for Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall at River Cottage in Devon.

Is it good bedtime reading? There is plenty for the BGE owner to get their teeth into with a meaty introductory chapter that covers everything from lighting and using your egg, to setting up your egg, fuel for your egg, tools and equipment for your egg and a guide to ingredients.

Will I have trouble finding ingredients? You will need to head to Whetlor’s Cabrito website if you want to make goat shoulder with pomegranate raan or whole roast kid; your butcher for ox heart to make pinchos morunos and a specialist shop or online retailer for the ancho and pasilla chilles required to make recipes like pork or ox cheeks with masa harina soft tortilla or mole sauce. There are other examples but in the main, you should have little trouble tracking down the majority of the ingredients required.

What’s the faff factor? This will depend on your view on BBQ, bearing in mind that you have to prepare your BGE before you get to cook anything on it. Some will view it as a pleasure, others a pain, although the latter probably wouldn’t have splashed a grand on a sizeable ceramic lump in the first place. In terms of the recipes themselves, they range from a simple seared onglet à l’échalote to a more involved pork shoulder with vindaloo spices.

How often will I cook from the book? How often do you barbecue? In his introduction, chef Tom Kerridge would have you believe that ‘Big Green Eggs can become a way of life’ and that ‘Once you’ve….tried some recipes in this book, you’ll be barbecuing in February’. For most of us, in the UK at least, barbecuing is very much a summer pastime. That said, if you’ve invested in a BGE then you might well be motivated to make as much use of it as possible.

Killer recipes? At the risk of labouring a point, there are some great recipes in this book, but they will only really be of interest to BGE owners. Some may work on other BBQ set ups, but I’m not sure why, with so many other more general BBQ books on the market, you would take the risk. That said, whole crown prince squash stuffed with pumpkin seeds and chillies; hispi cabbage with jalapeno buttermilk and ancho dressing; lamb ribs with tamarind glaze; lamb chop bhuna; paratha and orange blossom honey and pistachio pastilla all sound delicous. The short chapter on sauces and condiments including mango ketchup and harissa is extremely handy.

What will I love? The embossed cover that replicates the scaly surface of a real Big Green Egg is just great.

What won’t I like? If you don’t own a BGE, have a guess.

Should I buy it? If you’re paying a minimum of £780 for a Big Green Egg (that will get you a mini version. A basic starter pack of accessories will cost you another £134. You can pay up to £1,665 for an XL egg) you’d think you might get an instruction manual and recipes thrown in for that sort of money. Mind you, if you have that amount of disposable income, what’s another £25?

Although there are some great recipes in the book which feasibly may work on other barbecues (such as the strikingly similar Kamado Joe), the whole affair is so obviously BGE-specific that there is really no point owning this book unless you have splurged on a BGE.

Cuisine: Barbecue/International
Suitable for: Beginners/confident home cooks/professional chefs
Cookbook Review Rating: Three stars

Buy this book
Cooking on the Big Green Egg: Everything you need to know from set-up to cooking techniques, with 70 recipes
£25, Hardie Grant/Quadrille

Slow-roasted shoulder of lamb, harissa by Raymond Blanc

PREP 10 MINS / COOK ABOUT 4½ HOURS / MARINATE 1 HOUR (BUT NOT ESSENTIAL)

When I was about 12 years old, I was introduced to the food of Algeria, and by strange means. This was during the Algerian War, and in France there were camps for Algerian refugees. One such camp was close to my village and, with my friend René, I would go and visit these intriguing, kind and friendly people. They fed us well. I remember seeing whole lambs roasted on the spit and, as the meat was turned, it was also painted with the spicy juices. For my young palate, it was perhaps a bit too spicy. I was the stranger who was drawn in, and have never forgotten their kindness. This dish does not require a whole lamb. When it comes to slow cooking lamb, the shoulder is the best cut, meltingly tender and incredibly tasty. When harissa is added, this is a wonderful dish, and the chickpeas will only complement it. A shoulder of lamb varies in weight, becoming heavier as the year progresses. A 2.5kg shoulder, like the one in this recipe, will take about 4½ hours; one weighing 3kg will need 5½ hours. Aim to remove it from the fridge 4–5 hours before cooking to come to room temperature.

1 tablespoon sea salt
1 tablespoon ground cumin
100g rose harissa
100ml extra-virgin olive oil
2.5kg new season’s
shoulder of lamb
300ml water

For the chickpea salad
1 jar (230g) piquillo peppers
2 preserved beldi lemons
a large handful of curly or flat-leaf parsley
2 tins (400g) chickpeas
sea salt and black pepper

TO PREPARE Mix together the salt, cumin and harissa, and then add the extra-virgin olive oil. Place the lamb in a roasting tin. Lightly score the skin of the lamb and rub it all over with the salty harissa mixture. At this point, you can leave the lamb for an hour, allowing the harissa flavours to infuse, but this is not essential.

Preheat the oven to 180°C/160°C fan/gas 4. Roast the lamb for 20 minutes, and then reduce the temperature to 150°C/130°C fan/gas 2. Cover the lamb shoulder loosely with foil, and return it to the oven to roast for a further 2 hours. Now baste the lamb, add the water and return it to the oven for 2 hours, again loosely covered with foil.
While the lamb is roasting, chop the piquillo peppers, finely chop the preserved lemons (skin and pulp) and coarsely chop the parsley. Put them to one side; you will need them to finish the dish.

Remove the lamb from the oven. Spoon out most of the fat from the tin, leaving the roasting juices. To the warm roasting juices, add the chickpeas, peppers and lemon. Add the parsley too and season with the salt and pepper. Toss together and bring to the boil on the hob. Place the lamb shoulder on a platter with the chickpea salad. Bring the lamb to the table and invite your guests to help themselves. The lamb will be tender enough to fall from the bone with a spoon, though it can be carved if you prefer.

Cook from this book
Mussel and saffron risotto by Raymond Blanc
Pear almondine by Raymond Blanc

Read the review

Buy this book
Simply Raymond: Recipes from Home – The Sunday Times Bestseller, includes recipes from the ITV series
£25 Headline Home