Chicken & Eggs - Mark Diacono

After a very hectic few weeks I'm finally sitting in a reasonably tidy flat, awake, and happy in the knowledge that absolutely nothing needs washing. I've even put away all the books that came out of my bedroom when I redecorated, and yes, that's taken me five weeks to do - anyway it feels good to be relatively organised, so good that more organisation might be called for.

All of which sort of brings me round to 'Chicken & Eggs', I might have mentioned (a lot of times) that I'm a big fan of the River Cottage handbooks so despite living in a second floor city centre flat a book that dealt with chicken keeping was a must (although there's much more to it than that). As Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall points out in his introduction to the book the way we eat chicken and the way we treat chickens makes for a neat illustration of the current debates around food. When I was a child we kept chickens, we had a happy habitat for them - a large garden free of anything they could damage and short on neighbours for them to annoy - my sister and I enjoyed feeding them and loved collecting eggs. We also had sheep so Sunday roasts were generally chicken or lamb, but it was a Sunday thing only. This week I had an egg on Monday, Tuesday was chicken for lunch, more chicken for dinner. There was chicken on Wednesday, and chicken again tonight, it's more than probable that chicken will feature in some form on Friday and Saturday too because it's hard to avoid in the work canteen. This week is a little unusual because I'm emptying out my freezer (next week it'll mostly be what I think are pheasants) but it's not that unusual which when I stop and think about it is shocking.

Chicken is so ubiquitous, and so cheap, that a moments reflection suggests that the welfare standards for some of the meat I'm eating can't be as high as I would like. With eggs it's less problematical, both the egg itself (with codes that the book handily explains) and the boxes are clearly labelled, any supermarket will offer a free range organic option and the price difference is not so huge that it's a deal breaker even on my limited budget. Meat is a different matter - not the reassuringly expensive free range bird I might buy to roast, but the 'basics' or 'essentials' pack of wings that are so nice cooked in loads of lemon and basil, or any of the many boxes of salad, or the sandwiches, or the take-away; where does it all come from? Now I have actually spent some time thinking about it, it's definitely something to be better organised about.

Back to 'Chicken & Eggs' and I'll start with a quick list of all the things I really like about this book. The first has to be that as well as being about the chickens you might keep it's also about the eggs and meat that you'll still buy which makes it feel altogether relevant even if you can't (or don't want to) keep chickens, the recipe section obviously works regardless of where the ingredients come from. I love the practical advice about plucking, gutting, boning, and generally preparing the birds - pheasants and partridges are much cheaper to buy in feather during game season (although plucking a bird is the kitchen job I'm most squeamish about and have so far avoided) it's helpful to have a clear guide with pictures to help tackle these things. It's also a beautiful book to look at - I've never seen an obviously dead chicken look as good as it does here Mark Diacono isn't just a good writer (and he is a good writer; clear, informative, interesting, and witty) he's a gifted photographer. Finally, and as with his earlier titles for the series (allotments and fruit) there is a lot of very practical advice about getting set up and how to work out what you want.

I know there are plenty of books about chicken keeping out there and as I haven't had cause to read them I don't know if this one is the best or not, however I don't think a non chicken keeper could do better than this, and I do think every (non vegetarian) kitchen probably needs a copy - partly for the excellent recipes, partly because reading it (and who knew that reading about chicken ailments could be so interesting?) raised questions for me about how and what I eat which are important. Finally, as a book it's just a really nice object - perfect size, lovely feel, lots of information, and great pictures.

Herbs - Nikki Duffy

A river cottage handbook. About Herbs. By Nikki Duffy - whose 'Source It' column was my favourite thing about 'The Guardian'. That's the sort of hat trick that makes the pile of other books about herbs I've got quite irrelevant. Happily the River Cottage Handbooks always have something new to add (I've been comparing with  Jekka's Herb Cookbook). I've been a fan from the beginning of this series, it's full of unexpected joys and really excellent writing. The strength of the whole River Cottage thing is in its community approach, because whilst I'm a fan of Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall it's in a mild sort of way and definitely enhanced by his ability to find really good people to collaborate with (John Wright's contributions have been my high points but they're all good).

I made grand plans after reading the veg patch and fruit books (Mark Diacono) but I only have access to my partners garden and I'm not there enough to make large schemes practical (he doesn't like to water, and last year hired a mini digger when my back was turned - both to the detriment of the roses). I might still get my way regarding a Quince tree (or possibly a damson...) but the great thing about herbs is that a) they're growable on my windowsill, b) plenty of them positively like dry and arid conditions, though probably not mini diggers, c) the results are pretty much instant, and d) the plants are generally cheap to buy - roughly the same for a plant or seeds as a packet of cut herbs which is quite satisfactory really. 

I'm a little bit evangelical about fresh herbs, they were my gateway plants into gardening, are my concession to the good life, and are useful, and beautiful, both to me and bees. I bought a myrtle last year which has spent the last few months sitting on a windowsill all but ignored (it seems happy though) reading about it made me go and crush a leaf - the smell was as good as it was unexpected. I could have looked it up elsewhere but the joy of a new book like this is in how it makes familiar and overlooked things suddenly fresh and obvious. I can't tell you how excited I am by this book. 

I can tell you that it's nicely laid out - the information is useful but concise, isn't overly preachy, feels good to hold (Bloomsbury's design team nailed it with these books) and read, and has lots of good advice with regard to both growing and using. The recipes are imaginative (white chocolate and basil truffles) but not to challenging for those who look askance at a few petals scattered in a salad - I plan to insert the thin end of the wedge into that particular prejudice by introducing lamb loin with lavender. This is a really good book.

Fruit – Mark Diacono

I briefly flirted with the idea of joining up for all August all Virago – heaven knows I’ve got enough Virago books waiting patiently to be read but just now there are far too many other things I’m keen to read (Stella Gibbons, Angela Thirkell, Trollope) and even more things I want to plan (cooking projects, garden projects, reading projects). It perhaps doesn’t help that August always feels like the beginning of autumn to me – possibly because in Shetland it often is, or the end of summer anyway. The nights are drawing in, everything looks dusty and sunburnt, at work our first Christmas line has turned up in the warehouse (everything from now on in will be about the C word). So there you have it – August, not the best time for setting limitations, making promises, or taking on extra new commitments.

‘Fruit’ happily combines a lot of my potential projects in one attractive pocket sized volume. I really do love these River Cottage handbooks, they look good, feel good, are eminently practical, and chatty enough to make for excellent reading (more than a text book). I did wonder if after ‘A Taste of The Unexpected’ ‘Fruit’ (and ‘Veg Patch’) would really be necessary but there’s enough difference to keep me happy. ‘A Taste of the Unexpected’ concentrates on the exotic ‘Fruit’ gives page space to apples, plums and pears (as well as Japanese Wine Berries, mulberries, medlars, and quinces which appear in both, but hey – they deserve all the promotion they can get).

My wish list of plants is growing faster than weeds at the moment, and without a garden that’s strictly speaking my own I suppose most of them will stay on a list – though I am determined to get a Quince (and possibly a Damson, and maybe a Mulberry) onto the Scottish ones grounds. Quince because although it’s probably my least favourite fruit of the three seems to be especially decorative (lovely flowers), it would be a nice thing to leave behind for someone else to enjoy should that dream of moving back North materialise (leaving a Mulberry just as it came to fruiting age would surely be heartbreaking). 

After a divine gooseberry crumble (a highlight of Orkney was Jan’s cooking at the B&B) a week or two back, I would love to have some gooseberries too and have been reading to see if they would make suitable reinforcements to a hedge. Sadly I think the answer is no and to fit one in a patch it would like would mean losing some other cherished plant now. Ridiculously that crumble was the first time I’ve ever eaten a gooseberry – and this is rather the point of books like this – because it’s rare to find them in supermarkets or in grocers you have to grow them yourself. Farmers markets may have them but I don’t have a farmers market that works with Work – I can understand this with something like a Mulberry but given that gooseberries appear in so many other things (Waitrose has them in pate, yoghurt, jam, and fool) it’s a bit frustrating that you can’t buy the fruit itself.

In a long winded way this is bringing me back to the recipes at the end of the book, most of them can be made using bought fruit (although obviously home grown would be more satisfying). As Diacono points out if you add cream and meringue to most fruits your onto a winner anyway so I wouldn’t say there’s anything groundbreaking here but lots of nice things. The Apricots on toast (with honey, vanilla, and cardamom) sounds like a memorable way to end a meal and should surely suit the less flavourful supermarket fruit. There’s a Summer Pudding recipe that’s a timely reminder both that I meant to make one after an epically delicious version courtesy of my youngest sister last week (the first time I’ve really got the point of it) and that it’s an excellent counterpoint to the richness of game or the fat on a good piece of lamb. A Rhubarb and Strawberry tart sans custard in the filling also looks like a winner, and a colourful Peach salsa... Most of the recipes are a sort of template into which a whole variety of fruits can be fitted – which I find very satisfactory too.

So there you have it, a book that’s useful whether you can grow much of your own fruit or not and which stirs the imagination to no mean effect. The River Cottage handbooks continue to make me dream of a better life; one in which we all think a bit more about what we eat and why, where food has more flavour and a real provenance (and where I perhaps don’t have to work for a living but can instead float around growing things and cooking, possibly with the help of a gardener and a winning lottery ticket). It makes me happy.       

A taste of the Unexpected - Mark Diacono

Or Armchair Gardening and Brian Friel

The two don’t really have anything in common bar the blonde tearing me away from my armchair and its plethora of activities this evening with bribes of cultural activity. The local theatre has had a Friel festival going on for the last few weeks and she was determined we should go – so off we went tonight for ‘Translations’. One of the things I really love about living in a city is that we can turn up at a theatre (I also love living within walking distance of a theatre) on the off chance and get cheapish standby tickets. I know next to nothing about Friel, but enjoyed ‘Translations’ and would recommend it to anyone who has an interest in language, identity as it relates to language, and Irish history and culture. The blonde is passionate about all of those things so delighted with the play. I’m quite interested in all of those things and was delighted by the scent of peat as we walked into the theatre.

Peat smoke is the smell of home and childhood to me and I’m now sitting here buried up past nose level in a jumper that is splendidly redolent of peat and wool. It’s making me very happy and has put me in the mood for making plans... In this case garden plans. I no longer have a garden of my own; when there’s work to be done the Scottish one likes to refer to his garden as mine (though if I suggest that things need buying it goes back to being his garden and new plants become unnecessary...) but good as he is in letting me dig and weed to my heart’s content it’s not really the same. I miss having my own patch of earth to mess around with which is why this is the best time of year to read gardening books.

No really it is – I like drawing up wish lists and imagining the perfect Eden summer will bring, an Eden that doesn’t involve heavy clay soil, is oblivious to north facing aspects, and certainly takes no account of cost. Probably one that will water itself on the many occasions I’m not there to tend to it as well. When spring comes I need to be practical about what can be done out there but just now I’m spending some serious time with Mark Diacono’s ‘A taste of the unexpected’ and it’s very exciting. (This is another book that’s just begging to be a present.)

Diacono’s philosophy that life’s too short (and gardening possibly too much effort) to grow the things we can buy easily and cheaply anywhere really appeals to me. I love the idea of growing and eating more exotic produce – especially when it comes to fruit and nuts, after all who wouldn’t want to eat an apricot picked straight from the tree? Mark started off with a couple of Jane Grigson books which helped form the basis of his personal wish list; it’s an approach that I can relate to – most my gardening desires stem from recipe’s involving irritatingly elusive ingredients but what really sets this book apart is the blending of practicality with fancy.

Each plant comes with helpful advice about varieties, growing, harvesting, and of course cooking which is suitably inspirational but just before I get carried away there are also sensible warnings about – well about not getting carried away. I’m urged to consider plants which will yield almost immediate results as well as ones which will take years to produce, not to reject the easy winners, to think seasonally so that there are exciting things throughout the year and plenty of other good planning tips. The expert gardener will be casting me pitying looks by now, but I don’t care – I’m getting lots of ideas and finding them in a form that gives me the confidence to have a go. Some books make me feel like I can change my life and this is one of them.

Good things come in envelopes from publishers

My job is changing – wine selling activities are moving across town into a big new shiny shop which doesn’t leak and smells of paint. It’s a great thing from my point of view – the number of wines, beers, and spirits I get to play with has tripled and I have a team to lead again (time to dust off my intimidating manner and practice looking like I know all the answers) but it has meant that the last few weeks have been hectic, dirty, and depressing in almost equal measure as operations in the old shop have been wound down. Fortunately there are books which see me through this sort of thing and two have turned up in the last few days which have made me particularly happy. (One expected and one not.)

Some things just look to good to sit on until I’ve read them properly so here’s a quick preview. The unexpected one came from Prospect books (who I thought were a brilliant publisher before – but now I’m totally enamoured) and is called ‘The Book of Marmalade’. Anyone who knows me will be able to imagine my joy over a book with a name like this. I was a late convert to marmalade but it was a damascene affair in the middle of Sainsbury’s one day when I found myself wishing someone would make a bitter orange jam (yes I’m aware of how ridiculous this makes me sound) and what do you know there was the marmalade right in front of me. That was actually the only jar I ever bought – since then I’ve been making my own. (Mostly Seville orange but there has been a foray into Lemon with a hint of lavender.)

‘The Book of Marmalade’ by C. Anne Wilson looks to be an in-depth history (the chapter titles are enticing in themselves ‘Marmalade as an aphrodisiac’, ‘Marmalade in the new world: The early centuries’) followed by a collection of recipes. I honestly can’t wait to get started on this one and am considering making it my bus book next week. Can I also suggest that if you have an interest in cookbooks and/or food history that you have a look at Prospect's list – I’ve got a few on my Christmas wish list already and suspect there might be a few more before December.

Book number two is Mark Diacono’s ‘a taste of the unexpected’. Mark Diacono heads the gardening team at River Cottage. I have, and have given as presents a few times, his ‘Veg Patch’ (one of the River Cottage handbooks) and am quite excited by another River Cottage title coming from him next year (‘Fruit’). ‘A taste of the unexpected’ (published by Quadrille) is if anything even more exciting... Mark’s philosophy is that life is too short to grow the everyday when it’s easily and cheaply available everywhere. Why not grow the odd and wonderful instead? He started off with ‘Jane Grigson’s Fruit Book’ and made a list of the things he wanted to grow (at this point I was hooked, and then came the icing for this particular cake) Mulberries and Quinces featured heavily. I got mulberries last year but only by flirting outrageously with a park keeper and I didn’t get a chance this season. Quinces which I’m also keen to experiment with have proved really difficult to get my hands on as well. I clearly need to annexe the Scottish one’s garden and establish an orchard immediately.

I will be spending a lot more time with this book – it’s a brilliant combination of gardening advice, cook book, and inspiration. I saw a mention of comfrey tea for plants as well which makes me think there may be some talk of bio dynamics which also really excite me...

Basically despite the weather, despite the prospect of losing my life to work until January, and despite having no money for fruit trees I feel pretty damn good about the world today. Books are great aren’t they!