I couldn’t resist. Yes, the book titles were memorable enough on their own, but put them together and you get something all together inspirational. Somewhere between Agatha Christies and Wonderwoman takes on the government. Sometimes that’s just the inspiration I need.
I was in the library, signing up for a new card this week. New town, new roots, new refuges. Blue and I had dropped Beangirl off at school in the morning before headed off- just the two of us- to the library. Sadly, the kids’ library wasn’t going to be open until 1pm. But the clever librarians pulled a couple of trolleys of kids’ books up to the main floor and parked them close to the cookbooks. So there was plenty of entertainment to be had.
Among Blue’s picks, Oliver Who Was Small But Mighty. It’s about bathtime, imagination, and bravery. Find it and read it. Lovely.
And mine: Jane Fearnley-Whittingstall’s The Ministry of Food. Sounds a bit like a Faith and Hospitality guide in this context, but the subtitle is “Thrifty Wartime Ways to Feed your Family Today,” and the book was printed in association with the Imperial War Museum. (What a name, that one.) Anyways, I picked it up because it appealed to my cheap impulses and because I have a growing soft spot for steamed puddings, which seem pretty wartime to me. The pitch is that with today’s economic situation, and desire for more wholesome, local food, we could all stand to take a little look backwards and consider some of the culinary creativity that came before us during times of hardship. And sure, with lots of period graphics and quirky recipes, it appeals to the retro-lust and DIY fervour that’s going around.
It’s a good read – lots of history about rations in wartime Britain, and snippets of personal diaries describing the realities of the period. Definitely a cookbook to take to bed (but most are, aren’t they?)And it isn’t all history: there’s gardening advice to help you too dig for victory, and the recipes look interesting, too, for the most part. A few mocks: mock duck, mock fish pie that I think I might not endeavour, but I am tempted by brandy snaps filled with gooseberry fool, beetroot pudding, and plum and russet mincemeat. Jane Fearnley-Whittingstall has updated the recipes so that they are inspired by, rather than confined to, a rationed lifestyle. So there’s garlic and cream here, as well as plenty more butter. Don’t want to stunt the children’s growth trying to save pennies or to delve too far into historical kitchen experiments.
For some great wartime food propaganda, check out the Imperial War Museum’s posters here. I’m a big fan of this one…
Might drop a hint or two to Santa for Christmas…
My second cookbook of the morning is The Vicar’s Wife’s Cookbook. The author, Elisa Beynon, won the book contract a few years ago in a contest and set out to write a book that reflected her frugal but full table in a way that might prove inspirational to others. The result is super – a book that you want to make notes in.
I made her roast chicken on Saturday night. It wasn’t too dissimilar from what I usually do – lemon inside, olive oil outside, in the oven uncovered for 20 mins per 500g plus 30 mins extra. But Elisa Beynon suggests cooking in upside down for the first half, then flipping it over to finish. It turned out really well – the breast meat was just that bit juicier, and the skin on the underside not so floppy. The accompanying sauce, with lots of sweet roast garlic and lemon, was delicious. Drowned my roast potatoes deliciously.
Reading this book – and cooking with it – is a bit like reading a letter from a chatty sister, complete with her cooking notes. She has plenty of good advice and good stories to tell, too. What I really like about this book– other than I think she lives in my now-once-was North London neighbourhood* – is that she really considers who will be at her table when she is considered what to serve. It matters who is coming to eat when she decides what to serve. It is seasonal, both in terms of produce and personal life. That’s the ministry of food for you.
Eliza Beynon gives you a real glimpse into what happens at her table, and how food eases life. Her book is a nourishing read. You don’t get church politics. You don’t get theological squabbles or parish worries. You do get the sense that Eliza and her Vicar-spouse are working to create a home where visitors are welcomed and served.
And where they can and do enjoy a little glass of sherry before Sunday dinner. As one should, right?
I’ll take my sherry with a good cookbook – seems to be what September calls for. Research for home-building and ministry. Any other suggestions I should look for at the library?
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*The butcher sounded familiar, and she writes that she is close enough to Arsenal to catch the crowds.
