Snowdrift - Georgette Heyer

I've read this collection of short stories many times before, both in its original form of Pistols For Two and this expanded version, including some rediscovered short stories that were released in 2016 with a Christmas theme. The lovely Georgette Heyer readalong I'm in online chose to read the Pistols for Two collection a story a week with a couple of breaks as a sort of Christmas treat and I'm finally getting round to writing about it.

It turns out that a story a week with a group that know each other and Heyer's ouvre well is an absolute delight. I think it probably surprised most of us how well these fairly slight stories stood up to close reading. They show Heyer trying things out, which will become whole books further down the line, recycling bits of plot, dabbling in different genres, and overall showing what a very good writer she could be.

It might help that we were all familiar with her books, you could argue that for fans there's a sort of shorthand that means we understand much of what's intended from indicators that new readers might not pick up on. Look out for grey eyes - often an indicator that you've met a romantic lead... 

Another advantage to choosing a short story collection was that different people could lead the discussion each week which really took the pressure off one person at a busy time of year - we normally do 3 chapters a week and discuss for an hour, even spread out it's a lot of work, after sharing Pistols For Two, our next book is going to have multiple hosts too. 

It was also a chance to read 'To Have The Honour' which Sophie Irwin has re-worked into Henrietta, to be published later this year. I have mixed feelings about this. Irwin's own Regency romances are fine, but not for me, and I would have liked to see a more offbeat, adventurous choice to bring her to a new audience. I (we, in fact) also all thought this was an odd choice of story to use as a base. 

To Have The Honour is already complete in and of itself, it doesn't leave any loose ends, and it doesn't need building on. If you wanted that you could go and read A Civil Contract which clearly shares the same roots but does something much more interesting with its characters. There are other, better candidates to build on, stories that leave plenty of room for speculation and cry out for backstory.

I haven't decided if I'll read Henrietta or not yet. My current feeling is that, however good it is, it'll annoy me because whatever Irwin does with it, it's not going to match my personal expectations for that story. Great cover art though.

Nine Goblins - T Kingfisher

An oddity this one. An early T Kingfisher that was self-published back in 2013 and has had a new release now with Titan, it's more or less novella length at 148 pages and a self-proclaimed (accurately) homage to Terry Pratchett and James Herriot - the mash-up no one knew they needed. 

Herriot would probably have been deeply confused by it all (or not, I wonder if he was a Tolkien fan?) Pratchett, I'm sure would have been delighted. This was also T Kingfisher's first book aimed at an adult audience, whilst primarily publishing for children, and that may add to the general oddness of it.

I liked this little book, it's funny and warm, with a twist at the end that gives it a serious edge, especially at a time of global uncertainty, but it's also unevenly paced and took me an extraordinarily long time to read. The first half tells two back stories quite slowly in a way that makes it hard to guess where things are going, and then a lot happens very quickly. 

I'm not sure how much I took to Sings-To-Trees who is the Herriot inspired elf stuck with tending a range of creatures as ungrateful as they are mythical. He's fine, but he doesn't have a patch on the goblins in all their disgusting glory, and like Pratchett this also falls somewhere between writing for adults and writing for children. 

I know that both are technically adult books, but once upon a time, Pratchett was what a certain sort of younger teenager read (teenagers like me) when they hit 13 or 14, had grown out of children's books, and YA didn't exist as a category the way we know it now. Nine Goblins is funny and politically aware/angry in the same way that Pratchett was. They're not exactly jokes that a reader grows out of, but much like the music I loved in my teens, it's fun if something turns up on the radio from time to time but I no longer listen to it on repeat. 

Altogether a solid 3 star book - an enjoyable way to spend a lazy afternoon, an indication of the exciting writer that Kingfisher has become, and an obvious recommendation for fans of Pratchett or Douglas Adams but not a keeper for me.

Sky High - Michael Gilbert

My job has changed somewhat and I'm spending a lot more time on a laptop at work which is making it less appealing to come home and get online, or possibly I'm just forgetting after a day talking about books, ordering books, and putting books on shelves that I haven't been here to talk about the books. Happily, after a really nasty bout of peri menopausal nonsense that blighted most of January and February, March has been a bit easier and I'm getting some energy back.

I haven't been as doing as much of anything as I'd like, including reading, but a new Michael Gilbert from the British Library crime classics series is too much of a treat to put off. Sky High is excellent; a high stakes murder mystery with a fabulous cast of characters including, Liz, a motorbike-riding widow in  charge of the local choir, connected to everyone, and more than capable of solving a murder, and a retired General who must have been a lion amongst donkeys.

When the choir's lead tenor is blown up in his house, Liz, the General, and her ex-commando son take up the investigation. Gilbert has the gift of knowing exactly how to mix genuine humour with genuine tension. The stakes feel high, there's a connection that isn't quite clear at first as to how Liz lost her husband, a murderer who doesn't in the least mind dirty tricks, the long shadow of the second world war hanging over them all, and the need for Brimberley's choir to put rival villiage, Bramshott's efforts to shame at the harvest festival. 

I've read a chunk of Gilbert now, and I mostly adore him - the spy stories should be approached with a bit of caution if you're squeamish. There's some casual but extreme violence and old-fashioned attitudes that don't read particularly well now. I don't mind this, the stories reflect the time they were written, but I wouldn't re read all of them and am wary of recommending. It makes me appreciate the choice for the British Library collection all the more - these also reflect the time they were written but in a much less challanging way. 

Gilbert is a genuine rediscovery and a complete gem, his work deserves a much wider appreciation, it's some of the finest vintage crime around. 

Viennese Bakery - Bernaette Wörndl

February has more or less escaped me - I'm having trouble with fibroids again, which has left me anemic and exhausted. Any energy left over after work has gone into knitting husband a slipover - honestly, there's no greater demonstration of love than starting a project on 2mm needles that involves lots of new to the knitter techniques. I can now successfully graft stitches though, which is a bonus as I've avoided doing that for years.

I've struggled with the concentration necessary for reading however, starting a lot of books but not getting very far with them. I did listen to both Gaudy Night and Busman's Honeymoon which I might write about, but every time I read or listen to Sayers I struggle with her more, so might duck out of that too. 

As for Viennese Bakery - I bought it, and it's beautiful, but I don't know when I'll bake from it given that I'm struggling to keep my blood sugar under control so cake is probably a bad idea. It doesn't matter. I loved Vienna when I visited, I particularly loved its cafe culture - an excellent coffee and a small slice of something to chat over, or to sit and admire a view over, or just as a chance to pause and take in the day is incredibly civilised.

In Vienna, it was also affordable - I remember a coffee in an incredibly smart - I don't even know if you could describe the rococo ballroom splendour of the place, as a cafe. We thought it would semi-bankrupt us. It was cheaper than going to a Starbucks here, and here anywhere that nice would charge more than I want to pay. Our cafe culture is improving, but it still has a long way to go.

Meanwhile, I have my Eau de Nil and gold cookbook, with its gilt edges, full of atmospheric pictures of Vienna and recipes that I can imagine making, or that fill me with nostalgia (and make me think another visit is in order). It is enough. And if I can't justify making myself an entire poppyseed cake I can go to the Polish deli, buy a slice of a slightly different poppy seed cake there, make a coffee in a delicate cup, fetch out the pastry forks, and enjoy the moment. 

Around the Table - Diana Henry

I've been knitting a lot and not reading as much as I should; some of my reading has been re-reading at that (Gaudy Night again), but I have finished Diana Henry's Around The Table after having it on the go for a while. 

Around the Table is a collection of 52 essays on Food and Life and not really designed for reading cover to cover in one go - much better to dip in and out of I think, and really savour in the process. It is not a cookbook although there are plenty of tips and suggestions in here for the cook to consider.

I have a long-standing love for Diana's books, which I have successfully managed to share with my husband who is now also happily cooking his way through A Bird In The Hand and from Oven To Table. These are practical books full of the kind of food that we both like and recipes that have proven to be reliable time after time. For husband, who could and did cook for himself, and us, for years, but with a limited repertoire both titles have been significant confidence boosters. He likes that things turn out very much like the pictures. 

I would be well served if he would read Around The Table too, for the extra hints and food philosophy. For anyone familier with Diana's articles and cookbooks there will be familiar territory here - her thoughts on the quality of pork and the virtues of a good butcher bear repeating - it really does make a difference. If we ever manage to leave Leicester, the butchers on the local market will be one of my biggest misses. 

In Cold Kitchen Caroline Eden talks about books to have to hand, the sort perfect to browse or read through whilst waiting for something to cook. Around The Table is exactly that sort of book. The essays are short enough to fit well with the need to give something an occasional stir, or until the next thing needs to be added. As it's also a book that might inspire your next meal or project - citrus season is at it's height right now, do I just enjoy the blood oranges whilst they're here and as they are, or do I go and buy seville's and make some marmalade? Or help you make a better salad dressing, its physical as well as spiritual home is very much near the kitchen table too. 

In short a deeply enjoyable book that feels like the best sort of conversation between reader and author. It builds on previous books, feels chatty and warm without being overly intimate (sometimes biographies can be too revealing; this isn't that, or a biography). I love the essay format and generally could stand to see a lot more books of this calibre around. 

New year, New Jumper, New Project

Work took up a lot of energy last year, and amongst other things, knitting fell a bit by the wayside. On New Year's day I finally finished a jumper I started over a year ago and had meant to finish variously by the start of December, my birthday, Christmas, and then finally New Year - which was just in time for the cold snap so I suppose it was done at just the right time in the end.

There was no particular pattern for this one, just bits and pieces from other jumpers that I liked. I had an idea of what I wanted which hadn't quite worked out for an earlier version (I made it both too short and a little bit smaller than I really wanted). the yarn is Jamieson and Smth 5 ply which is lovely to knit with and gives quite a heavy, drappy, fabric. I wanted quite a slouchy jumper with space for layers underneath and not too dense a fabric. I got all of that and also something which wasn't quite as see through as my first attempt - colour choice helped a lot with that.

The sleeves have ended up quite close-fitting which I like, but I wouldn't do as close again - they're exactly the right length, but don't really push up, which is fine in winter, but maybe less so in warmer weather. Equally, I wouldn't get a long-sleeved tee to fit comfortably underneath them, which, alas, not great for winter. 

Otherwise, it's a nice looking jumper - this is it before it went on the board - that is remarkably warm and that I've already worn a lot.

The new project is a proper Fair Isle slipover - a Mati Ventrilon slipover pattern from the 2025 wool week annual. It's got elements I would normally avoid, the first being quite a deep rib knitted on 2mm needles. Ribbing like this bores me - 20 rows at 336 stitches a row felt like a marathon effort. The sleeve holes will be steeked. I've used steeks before, but again - it wasn't a process I loved, especially at the finishing stage. This will also be the garment where I make myself learn how to graft my knitting together rather than relying on a 3 needle bind off. Plenty of challenges then.

Of course, the first challenge was what colours to use. I have a lot of yarn in my stash, and I need to use some of it, buying specifically for this project was not an option. Unfortunatley it turns out that what I've got a lot of is small amounts which are perfect for hats or gloves, but fall short of enough for this particular slipover. I do also have a few cones and colours in sufficient quantities, but not ao many that would work well together or the intended wearer would like (husband). Eventually, I hit on a combination that I thought would work, but it's knitting up a little more subtly than I had hoped. 

Husband likes the effect, so that's fine, and I love the main colour, but it is a bit of an issue when you do most of your yarn shopping on holiday, and it's a lot more expensive to order online from a distance. It's not really feasible to buy big project quantities without a specific big project in mind, but is it sensible to have huge quantities of shades but only in 2 or 3 balls at a time. Also, probably no.

One answer will be to have a big sort out, find all the yarn that's hidden around the flat and arrange it sensibly. Not a job I'm feeling very enthusiastic about given how much of it there is. Wish me luck. 

Vin Chaud, Good Drinks, and not doing Dry January

It's been a long time since December was a boozy month for me. I don't find the pressure of the busiest time of year mixes well with alcohol, so when things slow down a bit in January, I'm ready to responsibly enjoy a small amount of alcohol - anything more than that plays hell with my peri menopausal system. Given there's a long haul of winter still ahead it also seems counterintuitive to get all austere now. I have tins and tins of unfinished Christmas biscuits, most of a cake, and we were given some very nice bottles this year; I'm not turning my back or otherwise wasting any of it.

The responsible and small amounts part of alcohol consumption is covered by instigating a cocktail habit - a single drink to hit the moment between dinner going in the oven and it being ready to eat. Partly inspired by Virginia Miller's Uneasy Elixirs - a really very good cocktail book that had a lot of things we wanted to try in it that got us started, and then dusting down books I haven't used much since leaving the wine trade it's making Winter feel much more lightsome.

I have written about, tested, and quoted from Ambrose Heath's Good Drinks many times over the years, it's one of the few books I have that really covers hot alcoholic drinks, and once again I'm sitting here with the outside temperature hovering around freezing day and night wondering why we don't do more hot punch type drinks, and why we leave mulled wine behind in December. 

Anyone who's known me for a while, or used to read this blog a few years ago will probably know that  have strong feelings about mulled wine, although nowhere sells out of the pre-bottled stuff like they used to. I think this might just be because it's less popular than it was, but there's nothing better for a lazy, freezing, weekend day off. 

The easiest version of a mulled wine I've found is Ambrose Heath's Vin Chaud - Good Drinks was published in 1939, and this version is by far the simplest I can find - which is a big part of its appeal, current recipes feel over-complicated and don't have the differentiation from other versions of mulled wine to make it stand out.

Ambrose Heath only asks that you sweeten a bottle of claret of burgandy (any cheap but not awful red wine will work) to your taste and heat it in a pan with a stick of cinnamon. As soon as it approches boiling remove from the heat, extract the cinnamon, and serve in mugs or glasses "in the bottom of which there is already a slice of lemon." Simple, quick, not too strong. Perfect.

New Year, New Ways to Procrastinate

After a very busy peak period at work I managed to get the first week of January off (worked on the 2nd, but missed the last weekend of the school holidays). Somewhere at the back of my head was a plan to really start writing here - but instead I started a jigsaw puzzle so fiendish that I gave up on it after 3 days and took it to a charity shop. And then, having learnt nothing, started another, more enjoyable one. It still isn't finished either.

I did at least finish the jumper I started in autumn 2024 on New Year's day, in time for the very cold snap, but otherwise it's been some light reading, lighter film watching, cooking, and generally not going out very much. We had thought about going away, but the weather being what it has I'm glad we didn't. The chance for a few really lazy, unproductive days has been delightful, especially as my job role changes the day I go back which is exciting - but lots of new challanges too. 

Meanwhile I've been working through Diana Henry's Around The Table - predictably excellent. 52 essays about her life and food. There are no recipes as such, but a lot of tips and pointers that are promising. Husband has fallen somewhat in love with Diana Henry's cookbooks, particularly Oven to Table and Bird in the Hand. He's more or less taken over daily cooking and appreciates these ones because it's food we both like and more importantly the recipes turn out as promised, his efforts look like the pictures, and it's given him a real boost in confidence when it comes to trying new things.

The only new recipe (and it's barely a recipe) that I've tried is from Skye McAlpine's wonderful Christmas Companion - this is currently half price in various places (Waterstones and Amazon for sure). I bought it for vibes and have no regrets. It's a gorgeous book that mixes completely over the top with really practical. Under the really practical heading is Panettone pudding as a twist on bread and butter pudding. 

We ended up with a serious excess of Panettone this year after I bought one early and forgot about it, bought another, and then yet another (the M&S chocolate and Cherry version being impossible to resist). Chopping up half of one of them and covering it with custard is about as simple as it gets, though I see no reason not to use pre-made custard if it's there, so it could be even simpler. This is absolutely worth buying an extra (or indeed a sale) Panettone for. It was incredibly comforting to eat on a night when the temperature outside hit -5 and we were struggling to keep warm. 

The Odd Flamingo - Nina Bawden

A real change of mood for my second reprint of the year nomination - Nina Bawden's The Odd Flamingo lands us in the sultry heat of August and gives us a much seedier overview of the 1950s. Only two years separate this one from Death In Ambush, but there's little room for nostalgia or the cosy certainties of village life. 

The heat of one particular day has been broken by a thunderstorm, solicitor Will Hunt is regarding his roses when the phone disturbs his tranquility. On the other end is Celia, wife of his best friend - and something is very wrong. Humphrey Stone is the charismatic headmaster of the local boys school, and here in their home, which comes with the job, is a girl claiming that he's got her pregnant and tried to push her into an illegal abortion. The stakes are high, if she's telling the truth the Stones lose reputation, his job, their home,and their place in local society. Humphrey is away, Celia wants Will to interview the girl and judge if she's telling the truth. 

Will thinks she is, and from there his carefully ordered life is pushed into nightmare territory. He tracks Humphrey down to a sordid little Soho club - The Odd Flamingo - they used to go to in their youth when it felt edgy. Will has long outgrown it; Humphrey seems not to have grown up at all. In the wake of Rose's claims, somewhat denied by Humphrey there will be blackmail, murder, brushes with drug pushers, criminal gangs, and more as Will steadily more disillusioned at each turn and watched over by a pitying policeman tries to help his friend and find somene left with some innocence.

The grittiness is an excellent counterpoint to the now more familiar and altogether more sanitised view of the 1950s that we get from Agatha Christie - or indeed Susan Gilruth and others. The British Library Crime Classics series have been brilliant at unearthing lost gems that do this, contemporary readers would have been well enough aware of this side of society, but I think we mostly imagine a safer time when we look back. 

Bawden instead gives us a brilliantly drawn portrait of extremely banal evil and she does it by letting us see Will struggle with each betrayal. It's elegant writing that does not dwell on sordid details but gives us time to think through the implications of each revelation. I could almost feel the humidity and grubbiness drifting up from the hot London streets and strongly identified with Will who really doesn't want to be involved in any of it, but at the same time can't see how to avoid the obligation. 

As a final note, a gay character is described in somewhat homophobic terms. I don't think this particularly reflects Bawden's views, but rather describes a character who is meant to be morally ambiguous on several levels and displays the imperfect side of Will's character. That said, you probably wouldn;t get away with it now

Death In Ambush - Susan Gilruth

My first nomination for Crime Reprint of the year is this year's British Library Crime Classics Christmas special. I loved this. In my opinion, it's one of the best Christmas mysteries I've found. There's a quote from Francis Iles on the back that could feel like faint praise: "Susan Gilruth has a pleasant, light touch." but actually is the perfect descriptor. 

Published in 1952 and set presumably around the same time (the Korean War is mentioned) this is a very satisfying slice of nostalgia. Liane (Lee) Craford is married to a soldier, Bill, who features not at all for the rest of the book. She has been invited to stay with friends for Christmas in a quaint English village and sets off sometime surprisingly early in December (about the 10th, maybe? Tolerant friends, Bill has to stay behind for some sort of training).

Down in Staple Green the local Doctor, who will be hosting Lee, can afford to keep his wife, two children, a cook, and a nanny in some comfort. I wonder what contemporary GP's would make of this? Lee arrives in time for a very awkward drinks party with the local gentry where we meet a full cast of characters from horrible husband and retired judge Sir Henry Metcalfe, to mysterious Russian widow Sonia Phillips. Sir Henry is not long for this world, and we'll soon find more or less everyone feels the world would be better off without him, and quite a few of them have a reasonable motive for doing something about it. 

It is always satisfying when the victim is a thoroughly unpleasant character in a murder mystery. And by a pleasing coincidence, Sir Henry is disposed of on the 13th of December - today. At first it looks like a stroke, but soon, Doctor Howard has some suspicions and Scotland Yard is called in. When Scotland Yard arrives, it's in the form of Detective Inspector Hugh Gordon, and Lee already knows him...

Lee is a light-hearted sort of main character, and Gilruth (a pen name for Susannah Margaret Hornsby-Wright) makes her amusing. This is presumably the light touch that Francis Iles praised because she's never too jolly, and it never jars which feels like a neat trick to pull off in what was only a second novel. It's this tone that goes a long way to making it such a fun Christmas read - nothing too heavy to darken the festive mood. 

The other thing that feels unusual and is handled well is the ambiguous relationship between Lee and Hugh. They're flirtatious and there are hints that Hugh might have made romantic declarations in the past. Lee's friends seem to accept Hugh as a sort of boyfriend - but at the same time it's all very wholesome. The exact nature of their relationship is as big a mystery as whodunnit.

Beyond that, it's a well put together mystery with the right amount of clues (I did not work it out, but with hindsight the breadcrumbs were laid) lots of atmosphere, a sense of peril for characters you like, some good red herrings, snow, decorations, and all the other trimmings of a good old-fashioned Christmas. Susan Gilruth genuinely feels like a lost gem; she's perfect for Christie fans specifically, classic crime fans generally, and anyone who loves a Christmas crime. The British Library team are indicating they might reprint more which I'm excited about. I really want more Lee and Hugh, but even more than that - I see this book as that rare thing, a regular crime re-read that could easily become part of my own Christmas traditions. Vote for it!

The Christmas Clue - Nicola Upson

December is exhausting, work is crazy right now and any writing time has been exclusively reserved for Christmas cards - all the ones to post go tomorrow. This is a job that I mostly love and slightly hate - it's taken 2 nights (around 60 cards, and I realise how seldom I write by hand these days - how it aches!) but I love getting cards and I won't give up on sending them however much stamps cost.

                                                  

Meanwhile, I'm deep in seasonal reading - ghost stories (the mildly weird sort, not all out terrifying) and classic crime are my escape of choice at this time of the year, and as it was a big book for work I gave 'The Christmas Clue a go. It's not normally something I'd have picked up, with the exception of Martin Edwards books, because he really nails the style, cosy crime set in the past normally disappointsor annoys me. I liked the Christmas Clue though for a few reasons.

The first is that it's short - three and a bit hours of reading maybe - which makes it an excellent Christmas book to escape into between bouts of sociability, or just when you have a few lazy hours to fill. Short books are underrated; I find a good novella a real treat. 

The second thing is that using Anthony and Elva Pratt - the real life couple who invented Cluedo as sleuths, and setting the book up as an homage to the game is a really fun approach. I saw another game Anthony and Elva had invented -Toteopoly a racing game in a charity shop recently. Sadly it was £80 and looked like there might be bits missing. Otherwise I'd have had that - we had an old racing game called Mineroo or Little Rosy when I was a kid that was much loved even if half the lead horses had lost a leg. 

I've never actually played Cluedo, but this book really makes me want to, for the purposes of the book it cleverly plays into layers of nostalgia without feeling manipulative about it. War-time setting, white Christmas, murder mystery, board game - check all the boxes. 

And the third thing I liked - some decent twists and a suddenly much darker than expected turn towards the end so it kept me guessing. There's a lot to like here, and this is the ideal stocking filler if you're looking for some last-minute inspiration. 

Winter - Val McDermid

I didn't read Michael Morpurgo's Spring, partly because whilst it might be impossible to dislike spring, it really isn't my favourite season. It drags somewhat in my mind, and weather that veers between unseasonably hot to bloody freezing is just annoying (ditto autumn, and keep your mists and mellow fruitfulness).

Winter on the other hand I love. I like the dark nights, the cold, the wild weather. This time of year city and town centres all lit up for Christmas absolutely look their best, the gold and blue frosty days feel like a gift, and there's a much better chance of actually managing to catch up with friends in the process of actual gift swapping. The food is good, and if the stress of work is real it also comes with the buzz of being constantly busy.

Winter is also the time of year when I really read seasonally. I'm an absolute sucker for a Christmas themed murder mystery, book about Christmas traditions/folklore/ recipe books, wintery short stories - all and any of it. Films, not so much somehow - unless it's a classic black and white something, though they;re harder to find now.

With all this in mind Val McDermid's Winter has been an absolute treat. Short and sweet, with charming illustrations. She sees Winter as a time of rest, retreat, and above all else, creativity (hard agree, these long dark nights are perfect for thinking and making). She talks about all of these things here, and looks back with nostalgia on her own Scottish working class upbringing where Winter started with Halloween. 

My Childhood Winters followed the same path. I hadn't realised that Christmas wasn't really celebrated in Scotland until late in the 1950s - December 25th didn't become a public holiday until 1958 which is a little bit mind-boggling. New year was always a much bigger deal, and even in my 1970s childhood, the feeling was that Christmas was for the bairns, New Years for the real party. 

I don't really know how much more commercial Christmas has become. A childhood in a not particularly wealthy rural area where everyone's expectations were similar, followed by an adulthood working in retail, where expectations often seem to be off the scale, has skewed my perception, but I share the nostalgia here for a simpler celebration, although a younger reader might roll their eyes a bit at the poor but happy inference.

Altogether a charming book with much to offer fellow lovers of Winter.

Hemlock and Silver - T. Kingfisher

Yet again my fond belief that I'm ready for Christmas has hit the wall of it being a bare month away with a very busy work schedule between me and any sort of merrymaking or relaxing. I don't mind working in the run-up to the day itself, but every year I resent how busy it remains after Christmas, and the impossibility of taking time off over New Year a little bit more. 

In an effort to get in the right frame of mind I've come home today, made advocaat, filtered the Christmas Schnaps I started macerating last week, done a batch of mince pies, and drunk a little more wine than might be sensible on a school night. As soon as I've written this I'll be off to bed to Finish Val McDermid's Winter book (a delight so far).

It's a while now since I read Hemlock and Silver, I thoroughly enjoyed it, it ticks all the Kingfisher boxes, and I'll read whatever comes my way by her - but 3 fairy tale retellings in there's a business as usual feel about these books. A heroine verging on middle age, a little plain, but not too plain, she is an educated woman who has her share of self-doubt, and she'll find a hero who is every bit her match, whilst overcoming something really quite horrible.

It's a pretty good formula, the books are well-paced and witty, full of humour and creeping unease. I absolutely recommend any one of them (Nettle and Bone and A Sorceress Comes to Call are the other two I've read) but maybe the issue of changing the focus from whoever would normally be the focal point of the fairy tale to someone who is generally a side character is a feeling that I've already read it. That said, I do love a middle-aged woman overcoming aching joints to sort stuff out, so it isn't much of a complaint.

Hemlock and Silver is a skewed version of Snow White where the Evil Queen exists within a mirror world (lots of excellent and horrible details to be had out of this idea when Anja the healer finds her way between worlds) and is trying hard to find a way into our world. There's a huge amount to like here and Winter is the perfect season to be just a little unsettled whilst waiting for a happy ending so it's well worth picking up a Kingfisher and enjoying it. 

Uneasy Elixirs - Virginia Miller

I didn't mean to disappear again - or at least I did in so much as I'm on holiday and haven't managed to settle to much reading and thought a break from screens would be welcome - but I did bring my laptop and I am so excited about 'Uneasy Elixirs', which came back from Edinburgh with me yesterday, that I can't wait to share it with you.

I'd seen this around on chat groups through work as a possible wild card Christmas title, I love Edward Gorey's work, and so altogether I thought it would be worth a look, although I was prepared to be underwhelmed by the cocktail recipes.

I shouldn't have been. Virginia Miller isn't a name I'm hugely familier with, but a quick google suggests she's a fairly well known travel food and drink writer, possibly more in America than here in the UK. Not knowing this is a reminder that I've been out of the wine trade for 6 years now and not keeping up with the reading (or the drinking but peri menopause and alcohol are not working well together for me, so there's that).

Uneasy Elixirs contains 50 "Curious Cocktails Inspired by the Works of Edward Gorey" and there's lots of Gorey to celebrate in here with illustrations, quotes, biographical teasers, and more about his work. The cocktails themselves are classics (new as well as old) with clever twists along with nicely thought through links back to Gorey and his works. 

Absinthe features quite a bit, I'm not a fan, but it's certainly authentic for the older drinks, and the Gorey vibe. I'm likely to replace with Pernod if I make any of those at all, which shares the same anise flavour but not the ferocious abv. It's interesting to see Cynar used - I've actually seen this for sale locally which surprises me, it must be having a moment, however unlikely that seems for an artichoke-based aperitif (I am not sophisticated enough). Calling the drink The Unknown Vegetable is genius on every level though.

Easier to feel real enthusiasm for is Henry's Demise, which takes a classic Army and Navy gin cocktail and uses Aquavit instead - if you get a bottle of Aquavit, Miller suggests this as something you can do with a lot of cocktails which is the kind of handy tip I love finding. One bottle, a lot of possibilities, and a worthwhile festive investment. 

Overall, an excellent book for cocktail lovers looking to up their game, Gorey fans, or anyone wondering what they might do with some of the odder things you find in bottle shops. 

Tasting History - Max Miller

October is probably my favourite part of Christmas - so far I've made mincemeat, Christmas puddings, quince jelly, pickled quinces, Christmas cake, and mixed a batch of mixed spice. Oh, and bought some rum to make advocaat. I love the preparation, the smells, and the anticipation. I'm also casually browsing for pajamas and failing to resist some (any?) of the really pretty books that appear in the autumn. 

One of these is Tasting History. I've seen some of Max Miller's reels and enjoyed them, I knew there was a book coming but I assumed it would be a mostly American thing. I pounced on it when I saw it. The first recipe I opened it at was for Hard Tack/sea biscuits, and from that point on it was coming home with me. One day, when I have time and access to an AGA or similar, I'll try making them just for fun. The 7 hour 20 minute cooking time does not encourage me to try it in my fan oven. 

Tasting History is the perfect combination of readable and usable. It skips through 4000 years and continents' worth of food history with easily digestible chunks of information and recipes that you can make if you choose. It's good to have a cookbook that's as much about the reading as it is the making, I don't get to cook in quite the way I used to. Between us we have to think more about cholesterol, blood pressure, blood sugar... allergies are suddenly developing (who knew you could spend 50 years fine with fish and then suddenly be very much not okay with it?), and between vegetarian, vegan, gluten-free, and dairy-free colleagues, I have fewer options there too. 

There's more and more that I can read about, but am unlikely to make - and that's fine. Collecting cookbooks is arguably a cheaper hobby than cooking is these days, and even if I never make anything I'm glad to have collected this one. It's a pleasure to spend time with and if you're beginning to think about Christmas presents for foodies in your life - well, you could definitely do worse. 

The Twelve Days of Christmas - Susan Stokes-Chapman

I have been excited about this book since early this year when Susan Stokes-Chapman made an unexpected visit to the shop. I loved 'Pandora', and really liked 'The Shadow Key', so there was a bit of a fan girl moment on my part (I think I more or less retained my cool). When she mentioned she was working on a set of short stories which made homage to Georgette Heyer it;s fair to say I was enthusiastic. Well now they're here, I've read them, and I'm still enthusiastic.

The Twelve Days of Christmas are 12 interconnected short stories that mirror the carol. I think on the whole it's a novel rather than a short story collection - it wouldn't make as much sense if you started in a middle chapter, but equally each chapter finishes with a satisfactory resolution so theoretically you could take them indeoendantly of one another. 

As well as Heyer there are references to Austen and Thackery, and very likely more - but those were the ones I picked up on this time around. I see from the afterword there are some odd little bits of real history in here as well, and generally you get the sense that Stokes-Chapman had a ball writing this. I have a quibble about a Duke being referred to Sir Robert throughout, I'm not convinced that's an accurate title, but apparently I've enjoyed reading this so much I can't find my normal pedentary about this sort of thing. 

It's a fun book. An excellent bit of historical fiction full of affection for it;s inspirartions but with a very definite voice of it's own. We get characters from all up and down the social scale, the human cost of the Napolionic wars is much in evidence, there is discussion about slavery, the likely fate of illegitamate children, the precarious social position of women, and the dangers of being homosexual. There's also romance, lost loves refound, unconventional families, heartbreak, christmas cake, plum pudding, mincepies, friendship, and more. 

I love a book that I can read in real time, I have a bit of a passion for Christmas books, I can imagine reading this year after year just because it's delightful and comforting. The Partridge in a Pear tree moment is possibly the highlight of the book for me, being both funny and sweet, but it's one of many clever vignettes. Altogether a book that more than lived up to my high expectations. I look forward to whatever Susan S-C does next.  

Simon The Coldheart - Georgette Heyer #1925Club

I can't quite believe that Simon and Kaggsy's book club has been running for a decade now. I'm obviously getting old. 

1925 turns out to be the year Simon the Coldheart was written, and by chance, I was already reading it for a book group -  nothing but peer pressure would have persuaded me to pick it up otherwise but it comes with a point worth discussing. 

'Simon' is a fairly early work for Heyer, and one that she ended up suppressing in her own lifetime. In 1977, 3 years after her death, her son decided it was worth reprinting. The dedication is 'To the memory of my father', I assume Heyer's father, this one having been published not long before he died. It's possible that the dedication is written by her son and references her husband, 1925 was also the year they married and the physical descriptions of Simon suggest a degree of infatuation that might indicate they are a description of her husband to be. Or not.

Briefly, Simon is an illegitimate orphan who decides to make his way in the world by becoming squire to someone who reads like a pen portrait of Brian Blessed, decades before Brian Blessed was born. This goes well and he rises through the ranks, does well in battle and then foils a plot against Henry IV, which gets him a knighthood. Then he goes off to more war, becomes best friends with his half-brother and Henry V, behaves in heroic fashion whilst being the perfect soldier, finally falls in love with a French countess, kills some people, gets his girl, and we can hope lives happily ever after.

My friend, who chose this one for our reading group loves this book. I think it's terrible and can absolutely see why Heyer didn't want it to see the light of day again. Imagine breathless Shakespeare fan fiction laced with a good bit of hero worship, and the kind of descriptions of a man's body that even Jilly Cooper might have drawn the line at. It's not the worst thing I've ever read, and it has a couple of moments that indicate the writer she will become, but overall, Heyer was right. 

This then is the question, and an apt one in a week when another cache of Harper Lee's works have been released to a public that seems underwhelmed by the opportunity to read her juvenilia. Do we respect an author's decision and leave well alone, or do we let curiosity get the better of us?

I don't have a clear answer for myself on this, but on balance, I land on the side of leaving well alone. At least as far as my own reading is concerned. I think an author has the right to say this book embarrasses me now (as well this one might with its mangling of the English language) and to have that respected, but then my friend loves this with a passion, and who am I to argue with the pleasure it brings her? 

I'm even less sure of this now that the internet is full of fan fiction of variable quality which nonetheless people are getting the joy of creating and reading from. Maybe now a 23 year old Heyer would have honed her craft on AO3 and left her experimental stuff under a pen name, available to anyone prepared to snoop hard enough to dig them out. I like to think she would have, her early books are full of homages to all the things that must have influenced her as her own style developed. 

In conclusion - read at your own risk, and preferably with a group of like-minded friends who do not mind poking fun at a book whilst still respecting the dignity and taste of those who do genuinely have a love for it. 

Brigands and Breadknives - Travis Baldree

I got a proof copy of this through work, and there's some demand for it amongst my colleagues, so before I forget any details and whilst I have the book to hand, I'm posting it up even if it is a month early. I really like Travis Baldree's books. I read Bookshops and Bonedust first, which is fine because it's a prequel to the earlier Legends and Lattes. They both serve equally well as prequels to Brigands and Breadknives - you could read this without having heard of Bookshops and Bonedust where we first meet Fern, it wouldn't make a significant difference.

The necessary information is that Fern has come to the city to catch up with her old friend Viv and to start a new bookselling business next to her cafe. But Fern is having something of a midlife crisis and whilst Viv the battle-weary Ork was ready to step back, put down roots, and open a coffee shop, Fern has had a life of roots and obligations. She wants adventure and maybe a new direction. This is covered with elegant economy in the first few chapters, and then the action moves on as Fern lets fate gather her up and put an end to her carefully ordered life. 

She finds herself travelling with a thousand-year-old elf - Astryx the Oathmaiden and a goblin force of chaos called Zyll who has an eyewateringly large bounty on her head and an even more eyewatering list of enemies after her. The three travel the country together, make friends, get into fights, and at least two of the characters reavalute who they are and what's important. 

It's still a cosy high fantasy, though with arguably higher stakes than in Legends and Lattes, life is like that sometimes. Baldree has the knack of spinning storytelling gold. He doesn't let it get too heavy; he brings the laughs, but Fern's dissatisfaction with her life is a darker thing than Viv's decision to hang up her sword in favour of making coffee, and for anyone thinking of making the uncertain choice so the slight change in tone is appropriate. 

It's cheesy to say Autumn is the right time for a book like this - it would be good in any season, but there's a sense of mists, colder nights, damp socks, and aches about it that does feel particularly well suited to be cosy, indoors, dry footed, and having a hot drink to hand. I don't know if there's further for this series to go - maybe not with these characters, but I do know that I'd read anything that Baldree writes at this point. He's had a lot of imitators, but I haven't found anyone doing exactly what he does nearly as well as he does it. 

The Christmas Companion - Skye McAlpine

It's been a while, and whilst I didn't plan a blogging break, it's been good to pause for a bit, not least because it's given me time to remember I enjoy doing this, which after 17 years I needed. 

I have a bit of a backlog of books to get through, but will start with something brand new that I bought this evening. I love a good book about Christmas - traditions, short stories, history of, meaning of, cookbooks, gift wrapping tips, the whole lot. Even though I will almost certainly never cook a Christmas dinner for more than a handful of people, should I be called on to cater a literal banquet I have all the advice I'm ever likely to need to do so on my shelves. 

Which is a very long way of saying I did not need this book, but I instantly wanted it. I opened at Gilded miniature baked potatoes with Creme Fraiche and Caviar. I used to have a stash of gold leaf, I used it on a Christmas cake. I now realise that the really stylish thing to do would have been to gild a potato - what could better encapsulate excessive consumption? I probably won't be trying this at home - though not from any particular moral objection on my part, but rather that I don't think the effort or expense would be particularly appreciated. 

Persimmon and pork loin on the other hand - that looks and sounds a winner, and despite the number of unashamedly luxury options there's a lot of practical stuff in here too. My main plan is to make the candy cane hot chocolate and enjoy a combination of browsing and daydreaming, for what is the point of Christmas planning if it's not to indulge in a bit of fantasy? 

On a more down to earth note, this is as beautifully produced as the other Skye McAlpine books have been, and as well thought through. Any one of them would be a brilliant gift for a keen cook and probably something they wouldn't already have as she's not quite a household name. There are lots of alternatives to Christmas cake, some excellent cocktail and mocktail recipes, and clever but easy things to do with Panettone and its several cousins, which will elevate them into something extra special. There's some good lists of edible gifts and thoughts on stocking fillers which I liked too. 

Cold Kitchen - Caroline Eden

Life has somewhat got in the way again with an exciting array of crises and much complaining about the damned humidity here in Leicestershire. I cannot cope with heat and humidity. I would very much like to be in a kitchen that's actually cold right now - I made Damson jelly in mine last week, which turned it into something like a sauna.

It's taken me a long time to get around to reading Cold Kitchens, probably because I bought it in hardback which means I don't carry it around with me, and then feel like I can;t buy the paperback which I would read because I already have the book, and this time I gave in and bought the paperback. 

I'm glad I did, I love Caroline Eden's writing and I really loved this book. Both for the sense of her Edinburgh basement kitchen and for her presence in the book which feels more personal than the trio of traveling food books she's done. Cold Kitchen still mixes genres; there's a recipe at the end of every chapter to evoke the place that she's been talking about.

The paperback edition of Cold Kitchens is an unassuming thing that it's easy to keep by a bed, in a bag, on a kitchen shelf, anywhere you might want a thoughtful essay that ties food, place, and memory together and a book that feels like a friend - Cold Kitchen's also serves as a sort of elegy for Eden's beloved dog who first enlivens the pages and then haunts them. I liked this too, though even prepared for his loss I still got ridiculously choked up when it happened. 

Altogether a book I highly recommend for the way it covers a life of adventure, travel, food and socialising, thought and memory. Caroline uses her Kitchen to revisit the memories of her travels, I haven't travelled as she does but the desire to remember and to explore drives my cooking just as much, and in lockdown, it offered much the same escape from the narrow confines of life in a small city centre flat. Reading recipes and wondering if I could source the ingredients in the prescribed outside time, cooking - this was something that gave my days structure and purpose. It's sometimes hard to grasp that we're five years down the line already and still coming to terms with the legacy of that strange year of limbo.