So why, exactly, do we buy cookbooks?

The simplistic answer, of course, is that we buy them for the recipes, but in reality, it’s almost never that simple.

We may buy a cookbook because we’ve seen the corresponding series on TV. We may have come to like or, even better, to trust the chef-author based on past cookbooks, through a blog or by way of an associated food business. We may want to try our hand at a particular cuisine or we may want to learn the basics. We may be dedicated followers of foodie fashion or we may just like the pictures, and there’s no doubt but that good photography and styling helps to sell.

Increasingly, photography in cookbooks is used, not only to show what the food should, in theory, look like but also to convey a representation of the lifestyle associated with eating that food. Whether we are subsequently disappointed when our dishes (or our lifestyle) do not turn out “like in the pictures” is another matter entirely. And while it can be helpful to see what a dish may look like at the end of our endeavours, some of my most trusted and well-used cookbooks (take a bow, Madhur Jaffrey) have little in the way of glossy pictures and are no less loved by me for that.

In the end, while the pictures are nice, it is the words that count. My favourite cookbooks are the ones that are worth reading not just for the recipes. Give me Elizabeth David’s English Bread and Yeast Cookery and an armchair and I will curl up happily. Nigella Lawson and Nigel Slater I like as much for their writing as for the style of their recipes. It’s important too, though, that the recipes work.

The Pieminister Cookbook

All of which brings me, somewhat circuitously, to the new Pieminister cookbook. Now, I have to admit that I wasn’t especially familiar with Pieminister, it being a UK-based pie-making enterprise without any permanent outlets here in Ireland. Still, when I was asked if I’d like a review copy of their new book, I took a look at the previews online, decided I liked the look of it (I mean, who doesn’t love pies, eh?), and said yes.

It’s a nicely produced book with (yes) plenty of attractive pictures, cute illustrations and seasonally arranged pie recipes, both savoury and sweet, as well as words to the wise on pie crusts, on tipples to match your pies and other pie lore. What made me smile was the wordplay at work in the recipes, from the fish pie named ‘Pietantic’ and the crumble of mulled wine and plum called ‘Plumble’ to the triangular ‘Chilli Pie-angles’. Puns aside, though, would the recipes work? The proof of the pudding, it seems, would be in the pie.

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Potato, Cheese and Mushroom Pie

Having looked through the Pieminister book, it was almost inevitable that I would choose to make their cheese and potato pie. A simple recipe, with lots of sliced potato, flavoursome cheese, mushrooms and cream all under a puff pastry hood. In other words, there was a lot to like, in both potato and pie terms, so I got to it.

Shockingly for me, though, I found that the amount of potato in the original recipe was too much relative to the rest of the ingredients. The mixture lacked moisture and turned out to be quite a dry pie, so in my adaptation below, I have reduced the quantity of potato by a third and added more liquid. And though the original recipe recommended floury potatoes, really, I would suggest that waxy potatoes, which are not as dry and which retain their shape and bite, are better for this.

I have also reduced the amount of pastry, as I only needed around half of the original quantity specified. I added thyme, rosemary and some extra parsley simply because I felt like it, used onion instead of shallots because that’s what I had to hand and used some dried porcini mushrooms because they were lying about in the cupboard. If you don’t have dried mushrooms, you can simply use some extra fresh mushrooms and substitute vegetable stock or water for the mushroom soaking liquid. For the cheese part, there are lots of great Irish cheeses to choose from and I went with a good vintage cheddar for this. I’ve also modified the steps a little to something that made a bit more sense to me having worked through the recipe – one which, truth be told, needed a bit of work to make it work but worked out in the end.

You’ll need:

• 250g puff pastry
• 25g dried porcini mushrooms
• 500ml water
• 1kg potatoes, preferably a waxy variety
• salt
• 50g butter, divided
• 400g mixed fresh mushrooms (field, oyster, chestnut), halved or quartered if large
• 1 medium onion, about 175g, thinly sliced
• 5 cloves garlic, finely chopped
• 1 tsp fresh thyme leaves
• 1 tsp finely chopped rosemary needles
• 100ml cream
• 200g cheese (fontina, gruyère, taleggio or vintage cheddar), chopped into approx. 1cm cubes
• 4 tblsp chopped flat leaf parsley
• freshly ground black pepper to taste
• squeeze of lemon juice (optional)
• beaten egg for glazing (optional)

You’ll also need:

• A large frying pan, a large saucepan and an ovenproof dish (mine was about 28cm x 21cm x 5cm deep)

The Steps:

• If you’re using frozen puff pastry, remove it from the freezer in advance, so that it has enough time to defrost properly.
• Soak the porcini mushrooms in about 500ml water and set aside.
• Preheat your oven to 180C.
• Scrub the potatoes and, leaving them unpeeled, cut into slices about 0.5cm thick and rinse well under cold water.
• Bring a pan of about 1.5l water to the boil, add 2 tsp salt and the potato slices. Return to the boil, then simmer gently, covered, for 6-8 minutes or until just fork tender. Drain well and then cover with a tea-towel to absorb excess steam.
• Meanwhile, place a large frying pan over a medium heat. Add about half of the butter and, when melted, add the fresh mushrooms. Fry, without stirring too much, until they have released their juices and have started to brown, 10-12 minutes.
• Remove the mushrooms from the pan, add the other half of the butter and, when melted, add the sliced onion. Fry for around 7 or 8 minutes or until well softened.
• Add the chopped garlic, thyme and rosemary to the onions and stir and fry for another minute or so.
• Add the porcini mushrooms and their soaking liquid to the onions. Allow this to come to the boil and then simmer for about 5 minutes. Add the cream and simmer for a minute more.
• Remove from the heat and add the fried mushrooms, cheese and parsley along with black pepper to taste. Check for salt and add more if it needs it (but remember that the cheese will add some saltiness too). Add a squeeze or two of lemon juice to taste.
• Add the cheese, onion and mushroom mix to the cooked potato slices and stir to combine. Check seasoning again before pouring the contents into your ovenproof dish.
• Top the dish with a sheet of puff pastry and trim to the edges of the dish. Cut a small opening in the centre of the pastry to allow steam to escape. Brush the pastry with beaten egg if you like and place in the oven for around 25-30 minutes, until the pastry is nicely golden. Dish this up along with salads or perhaps as a side-dish to some pork.

The Variations:

• If you wanted to make this even more substantial, you could, say, add some cooked ham to the pie just before baking

The Results:

• Serves around 4 people

I could scarcely have imagined all of the many things that this blog would bring and I can’t think of a prouder way to mark a threesome of spud years than having three (yes, three) of my recipes appear in actual print as part of a newly published book, Irish Farmhouse Cheeses of Ireland by Glynn Anderson and John McLaughlin.

New book on the block: Farmhouse Cheeses of Ireland

Delighted to have my cheesy recipes sandwiched between contributions from
Catherine Fulvio and Rachel Allen

Now, you’d hardly expect a completely unbiased review of the book, given that (a) I know the authors and (b) my recipes are included, but it says a lot about Irish cheesemaking that there is scope for such a book in the first place. Until its revival in the 1970′s and 1980′s, farmhouse cheesemaking in Ireland was a tradition that had largely died out.

These days, there are on the order of 60 registered farmhouse cheese producers in Ireland making probably close to 200 distinct cheeses, with more than a few world class cheeses among them. Helen Finnegan from Knockdrinna recently took top honours at the British Cheese Awards, winning the overall Supreme Champion accolade for her Kilree goat’s cheese, while last week saw the second annual Irish Cheese Awards at Shop Expo in Dublin’s RDS, with 14 different categories and more than 150 cheeses entered. Farmhouse cheesemaking in Ireland has come a long way and Glynn and John’s book introduces readers to the cheesemakers who are making it happen. The book describes their significant cheeses and (as you have no doubt guessed) whets appetites further with a selection of cheese-filled recipes. Along with Bord Bia’s Guide to Irish Farmhouse Cheeses published earlier this year, it represents a great resource for anyone interested in the ever expanding range of fine Irish cheeses. There remains little else to add, except that I can think of no better way to celebrate my blog-o-birthday than with piece (or three) of that selfsame Irish cheese.

Yes, it was a good afternoon.

A bit posh, you might think, afternoon tea in the Westbury, and, to be fair, it was a step up from having a dirty ol’ mug o’ tae in one hand and plate of chocolate digestives in the other. The occasion was a special food blogger launch of Donal Skehan’s new book, Kitchen Hero.

Donal Skehan introduces his afternoon tea
to a receptive food blogger audience

Despite the posh surroundings, it was a warm, friendly and, at times, noisy occasion that stretched well past the nominal afternoon time slot. The enjoyable sweet and savoury spread was one which the Westbury have added to their afternoon tea collection, based on recipes from Donal’s book.

Muffins, crostini and more

And the book, which presents more of Donal’s simple you-can-do-it-too style of home cooking, was, of course, a big part of the proceedings. It’s very much aimed at encouraging the reluctant and/or inexperienced cook into the kitchen, and Donal’s charm and enthusiasm (coming soon to the small screen in a new RTE television series) are the key ingredients. While the book may not break much in the way of new ground for the more experienced cook, it might just provide a few tasty reminders that, when it comes to cooking, simple is good.

One pink berry and almond swirly bun left, but not for long...

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White Beans In Tomato Sauce

One of the recipes that caught my eye in Donal’s new book was for “proper beans on toast”. Actually, it was not so much the recipe per se, as the reminder of how easy it is to make a simple white bean and tomato sauce to go with some crusty toasted bread

So I borrowed the idea and made my own. While Donal’s sauce uses red wine and Worcestershire sauce, this one, with fennel and smoked paprika, has a more Mediterranean feel. It would be equally at home on a bed of pasta as on hot buttered toast.

You can really use any small to medium-sized white beans for this – haricot (or navy) beans, cannellini or white kidney beans. You could even use larger butter beans if you like. It’s easiest, of course, to used tinned beans, though I do prefer the results when they’re cooked from dried.

As for the vodka, I would have to admit that I’m quite fond of adding it to tomato sauce. It helps to release alcohol-soluble flavours in the tomatoes and seems to bring out a natural sweetness. You can skip it if you prefer and you might also like to add a little sugar to the sauce, depending on the acidity of the tomatoes.

You’ll need:

• 100g dried haricot, cannellini or white kidney beans, soaked overnight (or use the quick-soak method, see right) or use 1 x 400g tin cannellini beans
• olive oil for frying
• 1 medium onion, approx. 150g, finely chopped
• 2 large cloves garlic, finely chopped
• 0.25 tsp fennel seeds
• 0.5 tsp cumin seeds
• 0.5 tsp smoked paprika
• 1 tblsp tomato purée
• 1 x 400g tin tomatoes, chopped
• 0.5 tsp salt or to taste
• 2 tblsp vodka (optional)
• freshly ground black pepper
• chopped fresh basil to garnish (optional)
• grated parmesan to garnish (optional)

The Steps:

• If using dried beans and you haven’t had time enough to soak them overnight, you can quick-soak them as follows: cover with several inches of cold water, bring to the boil and boil rapidly for about 2 minutes, then remove from the heat and allow to soak for at least an hour in the heated water.
• Drain the soaked beans, put into a heavy saucepan with about 1 litre of fresh water. Bring up to the boil, then simmer, partially covered, for about 1.5 hours or until the beans are tender. Alternatively, if you have a pressure cooker, they’ll only need about 10-12 minutes of cooking once they’ve been brought up to pressure.
• If using tinned beans, just drain and rinse them.
• Place a large pan over a medium heat. When hot, add enough oil to coat the pan.
• Add the onions to the pan. Stir and fry for around 4-5 minutes, until they start to soften. Add the garlic and stir and fry for about a minute more.
• Lightly crush the fennel and cumin seeds and add to the pan along with smoked paprika. Stir briefly then add the tomato purée and stir to mix.
• Add the tinned tomatoes, salt and vodka (if using). Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer, uncovered, for about 10 minutes.
• Add the beans, bring back to a simmer and cook for about 5 minutes more. Add black pepper and additional salt to taste. Serve on toast if you like or as a sauce for pasta, with chopped basil leaves and some grated parmesan if you fancy.

The Variations:

• You could certainly add some chorizo or other cooked sausage to this if you were that way inclined.

The Results:

• Makes 2 generous helpings

Potato and tomato bake - an Irish-Italian meeting of ingredients

Think Irish, think potatoes. Think Italian, think tomatoes.

In truth, the two are not so very far apart.

Solanum tuberosum (potatoes) and S. lycopersicum (tomatoes) are both South American natives from the same genus, introduced into Europe following the Spanish colonisation of the Americas. We Irish were one of the earliest European adopters of the potato – though a few degrees farther south and we might, like the Italians, have favoured the potato’s juicy cousin.

As it stands, the Italians (with the noble exception here and in the UK of the Italian chip shop) aren’t big on potatoes. That doesn’t stop the Irish having a great fondness for Italian food, but often with a few extra potatoes thrown in. In fact there is probably nothing more Irish-Italian than a dirty big plate of lasagna and chips.

Bringing a little more sophistication to the Irish-Italian table, however, is Catherine Fulvio’s new, hot-off-the-presses book, Catherine’s Italian Kitchen. Married to an Italian and the energy behind Ballyknocken Cookery School in Wicklow, Catherine introduces Italian staples and some regional specialities to the Irish household in a very accessible format. Granted that tomatoes feature far more frequently in the book than spuds, she does marry the two very nicely in her potato and tomato bake. A truly Irish-Italian dish with not a chip in sight.

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Catherine Fulvio’s Potato And Tomato Bake

Flavoured with fennel and saffron, this gratin-style dish really grew on me over time. I liked it when it came piping hot out of the oven, and scoffed more later, when it had cooled to room temperature. I enjoyed it even more the next day, reheated for lunch.

As Catherine notes in her book, make this only when you have very ripe and flavourful tomatoes. As for the type of spud to use, I’d prefer waxy here, but it can work with any type. You can enjoy it on its own or with a salad, though I think it would work well as an accompaniment to white fish or lamb.

You’ll need:

• 1kg potatoes, peeled (around 5 medium-sized spuds)
• salt
• 100ml milk
• 3 cloves garlic, sliced
• 1 tsp fennel seeds, lightly crushed
• 0.5 tsp saffron threads
• freshly ground black pepper
• 500g ripe tomatoes (3-4 large tomatoes)
• 120ml vegetable stock
• 4 tblsp breadcrumbs (I used wholewheat)
• 4 tblsp freshly grated parmesan
• 2 tblsp extra virgin olive oil

You’ll also need:

• Baking tin or ovenproof dish – mine was 28cm x 21cm x 5cm deep

The Steps:

• Halve any very large potatoes so that you have roughly even sized pieces. Place the potatoes in a saucepan, cover with water, add about a tsp of salt, bring to the boil and simmer for 5-6 minutes. Drain, then slice thinly once cool enough to handle.
• Preheat your oven to 180C and grease your baking tin or dish.
• Mix together the milk, garlic, fennel, saffron, a few twists of black pepper and about 0.5 tsp salt (though if your stock is very salty, you may want to add less salt here).
• Layer the potatoes in the bottom of the tin. Drizzle over a little of the milk and saffron mixture. Cover with a layer of tomatoes. Repeat, finishing with a layer of potatoes, then pour over the vegetable stock.
• Mix the breadcrumbs and parmesan and sprinkle over the top, then drizzle over the olive oil.
• Bake until the potatoes are tender and the surface is crisp and golden brown, pressing the surface of the potatoes down using a the back of a spoon or spatula from time to time during baking. Catherine suggests baking for an hour and an half, though an hour does it for me.

The Variations:

• Catherine suggests that you could replace the tomatoes with either thinly sliced fennel or roasted red peppers. I quite fancy bulking this up by simmering some puy lentils for 20 minutes or so, then using the lentils and their cooking liquid in place of the vegetable stock.

The Results:

• Makes around 3-4 lunch servings or serves 4-6 as a side dish.

It was a sign.

A large, elephant-shaped sign.

Painted with some mighty inescapable strawberries.

Let me guess, you've never seen a strawberry elephant before either...

The elephant was a resident of The Hempel Hotel in London, the venue for this weekend’s Food Blogger Connect 2010 (and, yes, I will be reporting on the bits of FBC that involved neither elephants nor strawberries in due course).

I think maybe the folks at Bord Bia had placed Mr. Elephant there as a not-so-subtle reminder to me that it was the start of Irish National Strawberry week. Like I needed a reminder.

I had already been displaying an elephant-like inability to forget that my last outing with strawberries wasn’t quite the success I’d hoped for. I mean to say, strawberries plus potato pancakes – I thought the idea had merit, though the pancakes I made at the time, unfortunately, didn’t. Now my elephant-shaped conscience was insisting I have another go. Who was I to argue?

Potato Pancakes With Roasted Strawberries

The result, I can at least report, was a much better incarnation of the strawberries plus potato pancakes genre.

A combination of better-than-jam slow roasted strawberries from Gastroanthropologist (whom it was a delight to meet in person at FBC) and Miss Jane Bury’s potato pancakes, a recipe dating back to the early 1700s and set forth in Colman Andrews’ fabulous tome, The Country Cooking of Ireland.

As Caroline from Bibliocook says in her review of this book, it should be thrust into the hands of all prospective tourists to this country. The potato pancakes, from a recipe collection now held in the National Library, are well worthy of being scoffed on their own (though anything spud-like and fried in butter always is). They can have savoury or sweet additions (hence the strawberries, which I ate with them), though I do think that they’re most at home on the savoury side of the menu, strawberry elephants notwithstanding.

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Gastroanthropologist’s Slow Roasted Strawberries

I was intrigued from the moment I read Gastroanthropologist’s recipe for slow roasted strawberries. Slow cooked and each delivering a concentrated strawberry hit, this I had to try.

I followed the instructions as she describes here with only minor adjustments. I didn’t have a vanilla bean but used a good quality vanilla extract instead. She also makes a sauce using the roasted strawberry juices along with Sauternes, though I used madeira instead, which made for a kind of tangy, fruity, toffee-ish sauce.

You’ll need:

• 500g strawberries (small berries preferably)
• 1.5-2 tblsp butter
• 0.5 tsp natural vanilla extract (or pulp from half of a vanilla bean)
• 1-2 tblsp demerara sugar
• around 50ml madeira (I used a sweet malmsey) – or substitute another sweet fortified or unfortified wine

You’ll also need:

• A non-metal ovenproof dish – mine was around 20cm x 30cm

The Steps:

• Preheat the oven to 110C
• Add the butter to your non-metal oven proof dish. Place into the oven for a few minutes to melt.
• Trim the strawberries but leave them whole and toss in the sugar.
• Remove the dish with the melted butter, mix with the vanilla extract or pulp, place strawberries cut side down in the butter, return to the oven and roast for around 3 hours or until they slump inwards (and, as Gastranthropologist describes, they look like Hershey’s kisses).
• Once cool enough to handle, remove the strawberries. If you have juices remaining in the pan, pour off into a small saucepan. If you find, like me, that the strawberry juices have dried somewhat and formed a sticky layer, loosen with a little boiling water, then remove the contents to a small saucepan.
• Add the madeira to the liquid in the saucepan, place over a medium heat and simmer until it is reduced by about half. Add a little sugar to taste if you like and/or stir in a little cream. Serve with the roasted strawberries, ice cream or cream and maybe even some pancakes.

The Variations:

• I reckon that strawberries slow roasted with some balsamic vinegar instead of the vanilla might be worth a try.

The Results:

• There might be enough for 2 in this, but that’s only if you feel like sharing.

If it’s Donal Skehan you’re talking about, then the answers are yes, yes and yes. He’s also ridiculously young, with all of 23 years to his credit so far. And he’s impossible not to like.

Donal’s book, Good Mood Food, is the latest volume of recipes to reach the launch-pad hereabouts and has grown out of his blog of the same name. While not blogging and engaging in cook bookery, Donal sings with his group Industry Band.

I have yet to get my hands on a copy of the book, but if Donal’s blog is anything to go by, you can expect things to be simple, tasty and beautifully photographed (Caroline from Bibliocook has a nice review over here). Meanwhile, I am taking myself off to the launch tomorrow evening so that I can secure my own copy of the book and (yay!) finally get to meet Donal in person.

You, by the way, are invited to the launch too, so if you’re in Dublin tomorrow evening, why not come on down.

Hold your breath. Make a wish. Count to three.

You’d probably wish for a lot of chocolate, right? At least that’s what I’d wish for under the circumstances. In any case, it turns out that we’re both in luck because there will be lots of chocolate on the streets of Dublin when the Temple Bar Chocolate Festival hits town on Friday October 30th, for what is shaping up to be three days of serious cocoa action.

The detailed programme has just been published and I am already loosening a few notches on my belt in anticipation: truffle making, chocolate tasting, chocolate stout tasting, a screening of the original Willy Wonka & The Chocolate Factory and a Chocolate Fair in Meeting House Square on the Sunday, with more chocolate than you could hope to shake a stick at. Some events are free but do require advance booking – the folks in the Temple Bar Cultural Information Centre [ph. 01 888 3610] can help you out with that. There’s no need to book for Sunday’s Chocolate Fair, though, it’s free and open to all comers.

Better still, the Temple Bar Cultural Trust have kindly offered Spud readers two pairs of tickets to attend a talk by Willie Harcourt-Cooze, which takes place at 2.30pm on Saturday October 31st in the Button Factory in Temple Bar. Willie should be familiar to folks on this side of the pond following the Channel 4 series, Willie’s Wonky Chocolate Factory, which followed his exploits in setting up a chocolate factory in Devon.

By now I realise that legions of you are cursing at your screens because you have no hope of attending the festival or the talk, so, in an attempt to make it up to you, there will also be two copies of Willie’s Chocolate Factory Cookbook up for grabs, which, if you should win, will be sent to you, wherever you’re at.

So let me know in the comments if you want your name in the hat for a copy of the book, a pair of tickets for the talk, or both. I’ll leave this open until midnight GMT on October 26th and let the winners know thereafter. In the meantime, you’d best get your festival training underway with some chocolate+chocolate+chocolate biscuit cake. It’s the stuff that chocolate dreams are made of.

The day started innocently enough. I had laughed in the face of the rotten, pouring-down weather and made my way to the Mansion House for the launch of Zest!, a cookbook showcasing recipes from 62 of Ireland’s leading chefs and restaurants, and which was conceived with the aim of raising awareness and funds for the Irish Hospice Foundation.

Zest! - lovely book, great cause, €20 seals the deal

I arrived, looking not unlike a drowned rat, signed in and was handed a copy of the book. (Yes, lucky me, I qualify for press copies now). I admired the lovely looking tome, though I worried slightly that I might ruin it, what with my wet paws and wet everything else. I dripped into the reception room and tried not to create too much of a puddle. Then, a little yay! when I saw the Coffee Angel stand, followed by much boohooing when I realised that they were not quite ready to start dispensing caffeine.

It was then that Tom, the very friendly PR guy, zoomed over to tell me that the chefs in attendance would be done with their photo-call soon and if I wanted to interview any of them, just let him know.

Interview? Me??

I had known that some of the chef-authors would be in attendance, but I hadn’t necessarily expected to speak to them, much less conduct something called an interview. Curses. I was completely unprepared.

At the launch, clockwise from top left: Kevin Dundon, The Coffee Angel folks, The assembled chefs with Paolo Tullio and Vivienne Jupp, and Biddy White-Lennon peruses Zest!

Moments later, Tom was back with an update.

“The lady from the Herald is just with Kevin Dundon, but I can get him for you when she’s done.” Or words to that effect.

I was struck dumb at the thought of conversing with one of Ireland’s best known chefs. I flicked through the book, desperately hoping that Kevin had included a spud recipe, but, alack and alas, he had not. There went that interview question.

I considered making a rapid exit-stage-left, but ran into the charming Orla Broderick before I had a chance to enact my escape plan. Orla was the recipe editor for the book and I got a great sense of the effort that went into the project and the attention to detail that prevailed. I had almost forgotten about the whole interview-Kevin-Dundon thing. Tom, however, had not.

“Kevin is free now.”

Talk about feeling like a rabbit caught in the headlights. I managed to comment on how nice the book looked, while Kevin obligingly gave me his spiel on the recipes he’d included and how impressed he was with the project as a whole. I ummed and ahhed a bit and started simultaneously wishing that I had (a) watched Kevin when he was on the telly and that (b) I had eaten at his Dunbrody House restaurant, so that we would have something else to talk about. Unfortunately, neither was the case.

The interview came to a merciful end and I sheepishly asked if he might sign my copy of the book, which he graciously did. I scuttled away and finally relaxed into the arms of a waiting latte. I sipped, feeling relief mainly, followed by the urge to laugh out loud when I realised what the lesson for the day had been: that in the world of PR, there really is no such thing as a free launch.

...as signed by the chef

Ok, so maybe I don’t even want to try all of them, but clearly there are plenty that I would like to try. In practice, though, I will only ever attempt to recreate a small fraction of the dishes that lie between the bookcovers, and not for want of trying. Yes, technically, I could probably survive quite well on a much smaller cookbook allowance. What am I saying, I could (as it were) go cold turkey on my cookbooks as long as I had access to the ever-growing wealth of food writing and recipes available on the internet and the necessary patience to filter through it all. That, however, is really not the point. As recently observed over at the Constables’ Larder: “Cookbooks are a purchase of desire, not necessity.” How true that is.

This was all brought into sharp focus when, for the second time in as many weeks, I happened across what sounded like a must-try recipe on the net, only to find that the recipe already lurked within the dark recesses of my cookbook shelves. This time it was a Delia Smith recipe for what she calls Chickpea, Chili and Coriander Cakes. She could just as easily have called them Indian Chickpea Burgers, which perhaps does not sound quite so elegant but would be equally descriptive. These little patties of mashed chickpea and spices are definitely Indian in flavour and just beg to be accompanied by raita and some sweet chutney.

This is definitely not a christmas cake

As to the reason for not having noticed the recipe heretofore? My only defence is that, when I think “Chickpea Cake”, I reach to the shelves for Madhur Jaffrey or Atul Kochhar or Das Sreedharan. When I think “Christmas Cake”, I reach for Delia. That’s just how it is. Or was, at any rate.

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