I love recipe books almost as much as I love food itself. Pouring over the pages of unusual ingredients and flavour combinations, salivating at the sight of perfectly posed dishes of deliciousness, forms a magical mystery tour that I am more than happy to embark upon. The pleasures derived from them of course are highly dependant on my mood. On days when I am struggling to give wings to mundane ingredients, I am glad of a good index and a book that helpfully divides chapters into courses, and better still meat, fish, veg etc. But the allure of a cook book is not simply that it is clearly structured and easy to use. On the contrary, the meandering style of unstructured recipe books can often be more inspiring than a well formatted volume.

I must admit that I am not a fan of single theme recipes books, as in “crumble” or “soup” or “casserole”. However much I enjoy all these things in general I can never help but wonder if the author isn’t just eeking out the most tenuous and sometime implausible recipes to fit the theme, not to mention the shelf clutter possessing these involves. For example I have a soup book with a dessert section. Sounds promising? The desserts have names like “soup of apple and pear” but isn’t that just a compote? “Sweet creamy rice soup” no that would be a runny rice pudding. Or “Strawberry banana soup” judging by the ingredients, more commonly referred to as a milkshake. I even possess a book solely dedicated to “Tartars and Carpaccio” (a gift). Really. Though I am generally an adventurous type I draw the line at raw chicken. “Salmonella alarm bells”, sorry. And using a peeler rather than a grater for carrots doesn’t suddenly imply “carpaccio of carrots”, rather suggests pretensionly named carrot salad a la time consuming pain in the arse. Just not worth the effort.

I also dislike proper cheffy books, highly stylised faux restaurant food, requiring a battery of equipment, and couple of commie chefs and a dishwasher (the human not the mechanical kind). These for me are more coffee table than kitchen table books. Books who’s sole purpose is to make you feel inadequate. Feel impotent in the kitchen, whilst you nurse your creative illiteracy in interior design and lament at the architectural shortcomings of your home. Nothing good has ever from following their lead. Trust me I have tried. Desperate, demoralizing and always disappointing.

The books I prefer are those that capture the essentials of a good life. Colour, flavour, texture, variety, yet uncomplicated, convivial and the palatable equivalent of a warm hug. Above all recipe books should be a guide rather than gospel. Add and omit at will, substitute ingredients you can’t find or don’t like and remember to pencil in the changes if the results were a success. A recipe is all the better I think for being personalised to taste.

Whilst I should probably be reading a good book to improve my mind, I am happy to curl up on the sofa with a glass of wine and a bit of food porn, thank you. Belly first, mind later.

So here are a few of my current favourites:
Nigel Slater: Kitchen Diaries
(Frankly I am a fan. Incredibly simple, intensely flavourful and simple stuff. Helps to keep it all seasonal too.)

Yotam Ottolenghi: (2 books) Plenty and Ottolenghi: The Cookbook
(If you ever thought that veg was just a side dish, you’ll think again after reading Plenty. But be warned this is not health food! No meat does not mean “no calories”. The Cookbook is a wonderful window into the world of perfectly delectable salads, soups, tarts and scrumpy desserts. Eye candy, that blissfully fills the belly too.)

Mai Pham: Pleasures of the Vietnamese Table
(This is a rare treat that really allows you to recreate some truely wonderfully authentic flavours of Vietamese cooking. Not entirely easy and sourcing ingredients is involved but worth it).

Diana Henry: Crazy Water, Pickled Lemons
(Criss cross the Middle East, Mediterranean and North Africa, heady aromatic glorious recipes, that really makes everyday feel like sunkissed days. Its quite a skill to alter your view into soft focused sun dappled splendour, I love it).

Though my shelves groan under the strain of many, I still covert others, such as Comfort and Spice, Niamh Shields (I am deeply intriqued by something called “bacon jam”?)
Please recommend some of your favourites I would hate to think I am missing out.