Top Ten Books of 2020

I keep an appointment diary, but it's basically a combination of to do and have done lists, here is where I keep something like a record of what I'm interested in and thinking about, so coming up with this years list of best books has been a recap of 2020. January, February, and the beginning of March feel like both a lifetime ago and a different world. One where theatre trips were possible (I really miss the theatre, and the privilege of cheap rush tickets which let me see so much over the past couple of years) and a year that started with hope and a conviction that this was going to be the start pof an exciting new phase. It didn't turn out quite like that.

There was the optimism of early lockdown where it all seemed like a chance to step back and smell the roses whilst spring erupted around me in a part blessedly free of alcoholics, followed by the pessimism of never getting out of lockdown during a summer marred by a park full of alcoholics (if it wasn't so intimidating having to walk past them there would be something almost heroic about the dedication this group of drinkers have to being out in all weathers to drink cheap lager together from sunrise to sunset). And then onto our current phase of uncertainty and Covid burn out.  

I read more than I thought I had this year, but a lot of it has been old detective fiction and tales of the weird. All of those books have been excellent, and I'd recommend every single one of them, but whilst they haven't melded into one, it's hard to look back and say this one, or that one, are the ones that have stayed with me. It's also been a brilliant year for food related books with a coupe of things that feel like they ought to become classics. 

I know there's a camp that says books of the year ought to be ranked - and I might agree (I wouldn't agree) if they were all in the same genre, but they're not. These are books which have defined my year and which I've really enjoyed.

Georgette Heyer's A Civil Contract is my choice from the good chunk of Heyer I've re read this year. She's an author I find an equal mix of comfort and challenge in, and who has seen me through a variety of hard times over the decades. A Civil Contract shows her at her best - just staying within the confines of the romance genre to write a book which shows that relationships are hard work and complicated, and worse. Heyer is a snob and sometimes it grates. If you're new to Heyer and doubtful about historical romance start with the detective fiction - if you like it you'll enjoy the majority of her writing, if you don't there's no need to carry on. There's a brilliant Heyer readalong group on Twitter and some excellent Podcasts if you catch the bug. 

Sylvia Townsend Warner continues to be the gift that keeps on giving. Her novels are getting some smart looking reprints in Penguin Modern Classics so if you don't have a guilty stack of unread old Virago Modern Classics 2021 will be the year to stock up. Better yet are Handheld's reissues of her fairy stories. Of Cats and Elfins is so good I've given copies to a few people. It's unexpected, funny, sad, charming, spikey, and altogether brilliant. A really good introduction to Sylvia in her many moods and just wonderful. 

I bought David Lebovitz's Drinking French assuming I'd get a fun summer drinking Vermouth and making classic cocktails. I did not, but it's still an excellent book even if it now feels like it belongs to a part of my life which is over. I'm still not sure if I miss the wine trade or not, I definitely miss being able to sit in a summery garden with a few people chatting over something good to drink. The reality of Brexit probably won't help with this particular miss either - but I can still dream of trips to France and bringing back interesting aperitifs. 

Gill Meller's Root Stem Leaf Flower is probably my favourite cookbook of the year against some really stiff competition, including Olia Hercules' Summer Kitchens. Both are 3rd books, both feel like by far the best work from either author, both are exciting, but in the end I've cooked from Root Stem Leaf Flower more and it's quickly become a go to book for inspiration. I wouldn't be without it now and just writing this is making me think about broccoli - which no other book has ever done for me before. 

The Accidental Countryside by Stephen Moss felt particularly timely. I think it was the last book I bought before non essential shops closed, and was the perfect thing to read stuck in a city centre and really noticing the variety of wildlife - especially bird, plant, and insect life, around me. I haven't read Richard Mabey's The Unofficial Countryside yet, but it's on my list for the coming year. There's a lot to think about with this one, specifically in how we think of the countryside and the value of brown field sites. Urban and suburban places can do a lot to make space for a little wildness which is a benefit for all and everything concerned. This year has really shown how valuable that can be. 

If I could literally hoist a flag for any publisher it would probably be Handheld Press who keep producing interesting and unexpected books. Business as Usual by Jane Oliver and Ann Stafford was an other favourite. Mostly light and funny but with real heart, I really enjoyed this book whilst recognising far to much about the world of retail in it. Mostly though it was the humour that I loved about this that made it so memorable and is also making me wonder if I should just retire for the rest of the day and read it again now. 

Patrick Baker's The Unremembered Places is the book with the concept that really caught my imagination. Baker explores parts of Scotland which haven't exactly been forgotten - the physical remains of the history are there, and findable, but they're not well remembered or celebrated either. Everywhere has places like this, I've been researching a couple in Shetland (including the first phone box my dad restored) and realizing how many stories can exist around a place, and how easily they can be lost. It's a book to question the history we remember and why. This book just wins out for me over David Gange's The Frayed Atlantic Edge and Sean Lysaght's Eagle Country only because it is Baker who made me think about looking for these stories and places on my doorstep (lockdown friendly) rather than on the grander scale. Again, all 3 are excellent books, and the latter two arguably have a lot more to offer the armchair traveller right now). 

Of all the classic crime I've read this year, Julian Symons Progress of a Crime feels like the most memorable (I guess I won't really know until this time next year). The British Library Crime Classics have been a feature of this years reading for me, and I've been lucky with all of them so far with lots of what I feel are series highlights. This one isn't so much interested in the affect a murder has on the victims family, but how it affects those around the accused. Written in 1960 it captures a moment in history that we sort of overlook now I think. Sandwiched between the war and the swinging 60's there's opportunity and prosperity for some but a hard reckoning with the recent past too. 

Miranda York's The Food Almanac is the book that's made me realise I'm convinced there should be a K in almanac. Again it was a tough call between this one and Kate Young's The Little Library Christmas both write about so much more than food, and Kate Young's book is the first Christmas one I've come across which doesn't assume a conventional family Christmas or really having a lot of money (I'm thinking of the Nigel Slater Christmas book which earnestly discusses which £80 candle to light on Christmas morning - it's a lovely book, but not quite for me). In the end it's the almanac not because it's a better book, but for the variety of writers and writing in it and the fact hat Christmas has passed.

Lafcadio Hearn's Japanese Ghost Stories are my final choice as a representative for all the weird I read in 2020. He was a writer I'd never heard of, and then found around very corner once I started reading this. If ever there was a time to take comfort in something weird or other worldly this does seem to be it and I've found it really helpful for mentally boxing up some of the uncertainty. There have been brilliant collections from Handheld, and the British Library which I've read with enthusiasm. I've a little stack of more scholarly texts on the subject which I honestly mean to read too (good intentions quail at 300+ pages of small print and footnotes when there are so many tempting stories to be read). Hearn's combination of Japanese and Irish influences has to be fairly unique and his life story is as interesting as his work.  

The 27th of December - Seasonal Greetings

I normally write some sort of Happy Christmas post, and I hope it goes as read that I do wish anybody who's reading this a Happy Christmas - which is a season, not just a day, but this year the normal platitudes don't feel entirely appropriate.

My Christmas day was good, it's actually the first one I've spent with my partner of 14 years - he's normally with his father in Scotland whilst I'm down here with my mother, but normal plans are suspended. I really liked walking the dog with him, and being together to open presents and eat. I know that plenty of my friends and acquaintances similarly enjoyed the quieter, calmer Christmas that restrictions dictated - but equally, plenty did not. 

At times like this it's sometimes easier to be on your own, for those of us who are used to spending a lot of time in our own company there are all sorts of strategies for dealing with potential loneliness, and if most the rules around Covid tiers are made with families in mind, at least social bubbles give us some options. It's far harder to deal with a situation where you're desperate for some time and space to yourself. I can't imagine how hard it is to be cooped up with people if that's how you feel.

The last few days before Christmas bought out a lot of horrendous stories of the crap that's been happening to others as well. I have a convalescing mother and dog on my hands - both will be better before they know it (as long as they behave) but one friend who broke her ankle a couple of weeks ago had her partner test positive for Covid on Christmas eve, and came down with symptoms herself on Christmas day. They're clearly not coping well, and so many pf the normal things we do to help at times like this are off limits. 

I've always liked this lull between Christmas and New Year, and during all my years in retail missed it badly - the 2 or 3 days off after being crazy busy then going straight back to a tidy up and relative boredom always felt wrong. Even now without a job, this week for me is an opportunity not to worry, to just ignore the looming questions about my future for a brief time - although in some ways most of 2020 has felt a bit like this gap in the normal (is it a case of being careful what you wish for?). And again I know there are other people in my life who really struggle with this time, and are finding it harder than ever right now.

So yes, Seasons Greetings, I hope it was a Happy Christmas, I hope it'll be a Happy New Year, but I know it's more complicated than that for many of us at the moment.

6 Hot Alcoholic Drinks for a Locked Down Winter

I like winter, but my feelings around Christmas are more complicated and contradictory. These last few days have been quite emotional, especially without the framework of the usual traditions to see me through. However, I've wrapped, posted, or otherwise dispatched card, and almost all the presents - I'm still working on a hat for my mother, which will be the 10th I've knitted since the end of October. I'm staying with her for the duration so as long as it's ready by Friday morning there's no need to panic. The food is bought and stowed away, I've had my own small book splurge, and my sister is winding me up. (Some traditions have made it through the hellscape of 2020).

It's time for a drink. I'm not normally a fan of drinking alone, but with mum, or at a push her dog, for company it's fine, and even when I am alone hot alcoholic drinks are the exception. The heat evaporates a bit of the alcohol, they're generally easy to make for 1, and 1 drink is generally enough for me. They also embody a combination of comfort, decadence, and nostalgia for me that's in short supply at the moment so here are 6 tried and tested suggestions.

Spiced Tea and Rum. I've seen and tried a few hot rum recipes over the years. Only one buttered rum recipe was really unpleasant (I've had okay buttered rum, I'm not a tremendous fan, but am willing to be persuaded to love it if anyone has a failsafe suggestion) but they often veer towards the overly sweet, or greasy, or otherwise slightly unsatisfactory. I'm not automatically a fan of spice tea or chai blends either. They're great for a couple of cups but then I find the novelty wears off. Any blend of tea with added warming winter spices is ideal for lacing with rum though. The tea blender has done the work, all I need to do is brew the tea, add any golden, dark, or spiced rum I have to hand and drink. You can sweeten it further with sugar, honey, or maple syrup as taste and availability dictate - or a slice of lemon if taste sends you in the other direction. If it's clear tonight it would be just the thing to take with me whilst trying to get a look at what Jupiter and Saturn are doing.

Gin Toddy. This isn't the best name for this drink, which I like to think of as an heir to an 18th century punch, but it is as good a description as any. I far prefer gin as a base here to whisky, the botanical nature of gin makes it a very amenable background to the other flavours added, it's a soothing drink if you have the suspicion of a sore throat, and is good whenever there's a nip in the air. It's simply gin, honey, a squeeze and a slice of lemon, and a grating of nutmeg stirred up with water that's just come off the boil. A demerara sugar would be a reasonable alternative to honey, and a slice of root ginger would not be an innovation to far either. Indeed experimentation with anything from the spice rack that's commonly used as a gin botanical would be good - just try them one at a time till you get the twist you want. Less is more here. 

Vin Chaud. This is the one that really is better with company, not least because it's the hardest to make a single serving of. It's a simple version of a mulled wine which is ideal for using up any decent but basic wine that's hanging around. That's all those bottles that come free with supermarket meal deals, or an unfinished bottle from a couple of days ago, or even the half bottles that you can buy more easily now. Sweeten the wine to taste with sugar (but go easy, it's easier to add than take away) heat slowly with a cinnamon stick until just before it starts to boil (do not let it boil), and serve with a slice of lemon. If you have lots left over it can go in a flask or a bottle, without the lemon, and be gently re heated later.

Sloe Gin Laced Cocoa. Just exactly what it says. Cocoa made with a bit of sugar if you like it a touch sweeter, thickened with cream if you want, and liberally laced with sloe or damson gin. It's mellows the potential bitterness of the cocoa, and takes the medicinal edge off of the sloe gin. The result tastes rich, grown up, and is the ideal end to a long walk - precursor to a good book or an episode of Murder She Wrote. For me the point of this drink is that it's more than the sum of it's parts. I'm on the fence about Cocoa and Sloe gin as individual drinks but love them together. This will not work nearly as well with hot chocolate, it needs the bitter chocolate edge of the cocoa.

Burnt Coffee. This was a happy find in Ambrose Heath's 'Good Drinks', and is a firm winter favourite. It's strong coffee with a spoon of brown sugar stirred in, then topped up with a liberal tot of brandy (not the very good stuff) that should sort of float on the top - not be stirred in. Then set it alight, blow it out before it burns out, and drink. I really like the theatre of this drink, even if it's just me to see it, and again it's rich, sweet but not sickly, and probably my ideal of a coffee liqueur. It's a lot like an Irish coffee but made with brandy and without the fuss of the cream.

Irish Coffee. I've lost track of where we are with Irish coffee. Is it still irredeemably naff, or is it charmingly retro again? I don't care either way because I love them when they're made well (no squirty, or whipped cream, collapsing on top into a pool of oily globs for a start). It takes a bit of time, and it's obviously better if you have actual Irish whiskey to hand. A not smoky or peaty blended scotch is an okay substitute (please don't tell my Irish family). If you have the time and inclination to make one well though it is the best drink to sit with when the weather outside is awful. 

Whipkül

After feeling particularly gloomy yesterday this recipe for Whipkül turned up on my facebook feed from Taste of Shetland. It's a traditional Shetland recipe which must have been a particularly decadent treat in the middle of winter, either as a breakfast in a heavily whipped form, or as a drink.

The combination of eggs, cream, sugar, and rum is fairly wide spread and this is very close to being an eggnog - with Shetland the origins might be Scandinavian, Dutch, Scottish, German, or even come back via America (assuming sailors might have shared the recipe on their travels) but either as Osla's dessert, or my attempt to turn her recipe into a cocktail, it's really good, very festive, and can easily be made for 1 person (in a self caring way, not a get smashed on rum because it's all to much way). 

Whipkül Cocktail. Serves 1

1 egg yolk from a fresh egg,

Half a teaspoon of caster sugar

50ml of double cream

30ml of black seal rum

a grating of fresh nutmeg.

Put the egg yolk, cream, sugar, and rum into a mixing jug with a couple of large cubes of ice and stir gently until everything is well combined and smooth. Strain into a cocktail glass and grate nutmeg over the top. Drink.

If you omit the egg you have something very like a Berlin Blonde without the Triple Sec. The egg adds a silky texture and richness that's worth while if the idea of raw egg doesn't put you off. I think a dark, sweet rum is the way to go on this - it adds colour as well as a punch of flavour, it would be worth experimenting with spiced rum or golden rum depending on what you have though. Black Seal is my favourite dark cocktail rum - not so good that it feels like a shame to mix it with things, but good enough to bring something to any drink it goes in. 

The sugar can be omitted, but it's Christmas so why not have it - golden caster sugar would also be good. I'd have used single cream for this if I had it, in which case I would have shaken rather than stirred the Whipkül. The ice is to both cool the mix so it's ready for immediate drinking, and to dilute the cream a little so that it's sippable rather than spoonable. It would not be the worst way to start New Year with one of these in hand. 

A Week Before Christmas

I've hit a bit of a wall today, to much of which has been spent wandering around my flat looking for biscuits like it's the 27th of December rather than the 18th. I'm heading back to my mother's tomorrow - she's recovering from a hip replacement and is currently less mobile than she was when I left added to which the dog has sustained an injury (a bad tear to her ear which became infected) and is not handling the cone collar at all well. It makes her panic, so help is needed on all fronts.

Logically I know that all I've done whilst I'm back home is go to the post office, pick up prescriptions, and have one quick browse around a quiet Waterstones all of which I'd have done anyway, but current news coverage is having me second guess myself at every turn and I'm wondering how everybody else is coping at the moment?

We're past the point of considering if the Government's policy for Christmas was misguided or not, but I'm thoroughly fed up with the current debate (don't lift restrictions at all v it would be inhuman to keep people apart). Very few of us will be having what we think of as a normal Christmas - even if we normally spend the day alone there's the whole build up, and a host of traditions that are not fit for purpose this year. The idea that it's a simple thing, even if hard, to cancel plans is unfair. Everybody's circumstances are different, and the endless judgement of 2020 ha been one of it's least appealing features.

Spending the last couple of months in the country was a bit of a revelation about how people behave as well. My building has been quite rule compliant - with a couple of spectacular exceptions in the summer I've certainly not been aware of neighbours breaking the rules, and when the students came back their behaviour was notably modified. From my mothers window it was clear that there was a lot more casual rule breaking around her, and even people having dinner parties during lockdown. It does not surprise me that 1 in 5 have admitted to breaking the rules about going into peoples houses, it wouldn't be surprised if the actual number was higher, and this is the crux of the Christmas debate, and the thing that isn't really being discussed. There are to many people who will simply carry on regardless.

All of it has been the final mood killer, so now I'm trying to focus on boxing day and beyond. I have a lot of good books, a new 1000 piece jigsaw of Botticelli's 'Birth of Venus' (£7 bargain from The Works back in October) some festive chocolate, a stash of good biscuits that I resisted earlier, and coffee to go with them, as well as some serious knitting plans - and renewed attempts to find a job to look forward too. There are some fun things being arranged via Twitter (I'm mostly thinking of the Georgette Heyer Readalong, but it's not the only thing I've bookmarked), I'm saving podcasts and am thinking of re listening to some of my favourite Backlisted episodes, and lots of other small acts of what I'm afraid I'm going to have to term self care. 

The biggest of these will be helping mum for as long as she'll let me. Having her and the dogs company is a massive boost which I'll be making the most of whilst I can, and whilst she needs me. I hope everybody reading this has got their own program of little things to look forward to in what is otherwise promising to be a fairly miserable winter.

Thinking about January, a List Inspired by Shetland, Orkney, and Points North

A short list I promise. I did consider an entire list devoted to Shetland Knitting (lace and Fair Isle) books, there have been some good ones this year and January/February have to be the best months for hibernating with some yarn but knitting isn't everything (though seriously it's a hobby I've found that's really helped my mental health generally for it's combination of creativity and usefulness).

As it is I'm just going to recommend the Shetland Wool Week Annual 2020 and the Shetland Wool Adventure Journal for knitting inspiration. Both offer patterns suitable for every knitting level from beginner to expert. They're things I actually want to make which isn't guaranteed, especially in beginner books, and they offer a lot more on top. Recipes, articles, book reviews, beautiful photography, and something of a sense of community. They're both well worth the money (about £20 each plus postage and packing on top of that), support local jobs, and will keep a knitter busy over the winter. 

I don't re read books very often, but after lots of discussion about Christmas favourites recently I keep thinking about George Mackay Brown's short stories and have pulled a handful of them off the shelf (along with Northern Lights so I can read again about the rotten day out he had with my dad - everybody else enjoyed it, but not Brown). Winter is the traditional time to gather and tell stories, something that Brown would have been very mindful of, and there's something about his mix of nostalgia and slight melancholy that feels right for this time of year - even when he's writing about summer. 

From there I started thinking about David Thomson's 'The People of the Sea' now a smart Canongate Canon. This is a collection of Celtic tales of the sea folk - selkies, which are also an Orkney and Shetland tradition too. Reading 'Hag' is the other thing that put me in mind of this book as one of the more famous Selkie stories is retold in it. 

David Gange's 'The Frayed Atlantic Edge' came out in paperback this summer, and was the next obvious connection. This epic trip around  Britain and Ireland's western seaboard is full of tangents to explore in the way of further reading and big ideas. It's also a really enjoyable book to read, and a reminder, should we need it, that there are a lot of exciting things happening on what we think of as the edges. It might also change what you think of as the centre those edges circle as well.

When I read the premise for 'The Frayed Atlantic Edge' I thought doing that journey in a kayak was a little bit crazy - then I read Alec Crawford's 'Treasure Islands' this year. If you don't think maritime salvage is your sort of thing this might be the book to change your mind - it changed mine. It's a jaw dropping account of poor health and safety practices whilst diving on the wreck of a lifetime - and life on Foula in the process. I really loved this book and very much need to retrieve my copy from my partner before he considers it his own. 

6 Books for Last Minute Presents or Stocking Fillers

There's a distinct theme with these books, some of which I was given for my Birthday and which heavily reflect my interests in food and history. But as the news about Christmas is sounding a bit rubbish today, and I've already had to readjust a few present giving plans to postal options, books are featuring in my gift giving more than ever. 

In the normal way of things I don't like recommending, or using, the big internet giant for book shopping, but I have prime and it gives me options for getting things to my dad in Shetland (slow, but no extra charge for delivery and anyone with family in the Highlands and Islands will appreciate that), and small presents here there and everywhere. For local friends I can leave things on a doorstep, or as in one case arrange something very like a dead letter drop with parcels swapped from opposite ends of the (closed) museum portico, much to the amusement of passers by. It's all adding to the oddness of this year.

Almanacs are definitely making a come back - this is the first time I've bought Lia Leendertz's 'The Almanac'. It's small and pretty and full of interesting bits and pieces. I fell for it when I was ordering coffee filter papers (nowhere in the city centre that I can find sells the Hario ones I use) and am looking forward to reading it month by month throughout next year. It's the pocket size that I love, and with any luck might be a perfect travel companion. 

Miranda York's 'The Food Almanac' is something I bought a couple of months ago and really love. It's a nice thing to have for anybody who likes food and reading. There's a great mix of stuff in here - not just recipes, but stories, recommendations for more books, and all the distraction that I could want - and maybe you too. It's the perfect food book for the cookbook lover who already has a lot of cookbooks (like me) and who wants more tangential inspiration from new books. 

'The Women's Suffrage Cookery Book' came as a review copy from the British Library too recently for me to have done anything but glance at it. What I've seen I really like. Originally published in 1912 to raise funds for the NUWSS (National Union of Women Suffrage Societies) it's a collection of recipes sent in by women from across the world. There are household hints and tips as well. Some things sound like they'll work better than others, but the particular charm of this book is the window it throws open onto these women's lives.

Lizzie Collingham's 'The Biscuit' was a birthday present. I'd dearly love to be making Christmas biscuits right now, but common sense says not. There won't be enough people to share them with and eating all the biscuits myself would be a bad thing. I'm a little bit sad about this, but biscuits don't stand up well to being posted and it's hardly the biggest sacrifice of 2020. Meanwhile reading through this is sort of scratching the itch. It's a comprehensive, informative, and entertaining history of the biscuit, with recipes.

Pen Vogler's 'Scoff' was also a birthday present (and I'm fairly sure I have her Dinner with Dickens coming my way too). It's a history of food and class in Britain - right up my street. It's also a brick of a thing, so the perfect book for January and what looks likely to be a grim winter. An initial look suggests history that's solid but approachable (maybe like a Sunday roast?) so for once the size isn't daunting me. 

'Hag' is a collection of forgotten folk tales re told by contemporary (female) authors for Virago. It was another birthday present, and one I'm particularly pleased with - not food related either please note. The stories I've read so far (about half of them) have been excellent - not least because they're folk tales I'm reasonably familiar with - but then they are a particular passion. Short stories are another passion - and I like the dark edge of these. 

5 Women Writers Being Reprinted (and a lot more)

I had to go into town today, and as it wasn't particularly busy I had a wonder around in Waterstones which was nice, but as I tend to read more older authors and this is the time of year for shifting new stuff I didn't actually see much that really looked like it was my cup of tea that I didn't already have. It's been a good year for what I'm going to call classic women writers though, and there's good stuff in the offing for 2021 as well.

Sylvia Townsend Warner - thanks to the combined championing of Helen and Handheld Press has gone from being a writer I thought I ought to like, to one I love. She's getting handsome new Penguin Modern Classic editions for quite a few of her novels, Persephone published some of her writing this year, and the two collections of cat and fairy stories that Handheld bought out are brilliant, her titles often turn up in old green Virago's in charity shops too. Now's a really good time to discover her in all her considerable variety if you haven't already done so.  

Patricia Highsmith has her Centenary next year which Virago are celebrating - first off with a new collection of her short stories. This is my prompt to read a lot more of the Highsmith's I have on the shelf. I've read a few, but not enough. And whilst I'm thinking about Virago and books I haven't read, they've also expanded their classics list of books by black women, both in terms of the writers included and the range of their titles available. In simple terms I've gone from thinking that it's a genre that isn't necessarily for me, to wondering what I'm missing out on - that's one pf the things increased representation does. 

Nancy Spain is another author who has joined the Virago stable, with Death Goes on Skis out now and more to come. I liked this book, mostly for how awful everybody in it managed to be. In 'Death Goes on Skis' the quantity of family members who really disliked each other felt like an effective Christmas safety valve. I'm looking forward to more of her books...

Still with Virago, there's a really handsome new edition of Rumer Godden's 'Black Narcissus' out. I was given a copy for my birthday, and the first time I find myself somewhere grand enough to sell Caron perfume I'll be either spraying Narcisse Noir on the book, or on something I can use as a bookmark. I will be watching the new adaptation, but I'm not convinced it'll come close to the brilliance of the Powell and Pressburger  version from 1947. There's a few contenders for which might be Godden's best book, this one would definitely be a lot of peoples choice.

It's been a good year for Rose Macauley as well. She's another writer that I've always thought I should like but had never got very far with. Again it was Handheld press, with their edition of 'Potterism', that converted me to actual enthusiasm. They've got a few Macauley titles, Virago have more, and the British Library Women Writers series has 'Dangerous Ages'. The BL list is well worth a look and is going to be one to watch. It's a list that gets more interesting with each title with harder to find things from Elizabeth Von Arnim and E. M. Delafield and writers who will likely only be familiar to fans of Stuck in a Book who is series advisor. 

6 Christmas Themed Books and Cinnamon Buns for Breakfast

This is my birthday weekend, late enough in December to feel like it's generally overshadowed by Christmas. For a long time I wouldn't put up decorations before this, but as Christmas has steadily been bought forward over the years it's become increasingly futile to hold out against it (you struggle to get a decent tree for a small flat if you leave it until now, and things need to go in the post, and all the rest of it). 

A tier 3 birthday in the rain isn't the most social occasion, but it still beats trying to find somewhere to go for dinner which isn't offering a Christmas menu and isn't full of office parties. I am not complaining. I've got a handful of great looking books to browse through, some very good coffee, and a collection of really pretty bracelets that a jeweler friend has made for me with charms we chose on holiday in Shetland back in freer times. 

Meanwhile it seems as good a time as any to recommend a short list of Christmas themed books. I have a growing collection of these which sort of surprises me - I don't as a rule think of myself as this Christmassy, but the evidence is all pointing towards the fact that I am. I could have done a reasonable list just of food and drink titles. 

Kate Young's 'The Little Library Christmas' is new this year, pocket sized, and covers films and books every bit as much as it does food and drink. It's one to read, maybe make plans for next year from, and generally enjoy as a festive companion. Because books are central to it, reading about the recipes is a different experience to reading cookbooks generally, so even if there's no excuse or opportunity for the big meals, at least you're lead towards some great literary celebrations. It's a s good a way as any I can think of to combat the relative isolation of this year.

Tom Parker Bowles 'Christmas and Other Feasts' for Fortnum and Mason is at the other end of the scale. It's mostly in the realms of a fantasy Christmas from my point of view, but with plenty of practical recipes mixed in. I like the lists of luxury goods that sound like set dressing for a very upmarket period drama. It's very reminiscent of the lovingly written descriptions of food that are such a feature of ration era fiction.

'A Surprise for Christmas and Other Seasonal Mysteries' edited by Martin Edwards is the most recent of the British Library classic crime collections. To be honest they're all good, as are the Christmas themed crime classic novels, but I have a particular love for short story collections and this is a particularly enjoyable collection. Why this time of year feels so right for crime and ghost stories is probably a question best left unexamined. 

'Chill Tidings' edited by Tanya Kirk, also from the British Library but this time on the Weird series backs up my enthusiasm for these genres. I reviewed both books recently (here and here) both are vintage collections that would take some beating. Chill Tidings has the added bonus of friendly and funny ghosts and is perfect for atmosphere and mood setting.

Jeanette Winterson's 'Christmas Days' is the book I bought in 2016 and still haven't read beyond the recipes that accompany each chapter. Maybe I'll start it this afternoon, maybe I'll save it for another year. It's a book so full of promise - including the charming illustrations that knowing it's waiting for me has been pleasure enough so far. Sometimes books are about more than reading.

Simon Armitage's 'Sir Gawain and the Green Knight' is the book I will read this Christmas. I meant to do it last year and didn't, but after enjoying Beowulf so much recently I'm really up for this, and because things are so much less hectic this year I'm less likely to be distracted. There's something about this sort of epic story telling I find very attractive at the moment too. I remember watching a tv version as a child and being a bit flummoxed by it which is very 2020.

Breakfast Cinnamon Buns. 

I made these for my sisters birthday and decided to make them for myself too - and leave some for the neighbours as a thank you. The recipe is a Signe Johanson one, I think from Scandilicious Baking and is very good. Buns are best eaten on the day they're baked. 

The night before you want them make the dough. Take 225ml of whole milk and 75g of butter and scaled them in a pan - heat the milk until it's just about boiling whilst the butter melts in it. Set aside to cool slightly whilst gathering the rest of the ingredients. 425g of plain or bread flour, 70g of caster sugar, 1tsp of ground cinnamon - or use cardamom if preferred, 1/2 a teaspoon of finely ground sea salt, 1 packet of instant yeast (or 20g fresh) and 1 medium egg. Add the slightly cooled milk and butter and mix to a dough with a food mixer - it's a very wet sticky dough. Put somewhere cool to rise overnight - either the fridge, or a kitchen as cold as mine currently is.

Make a filling out of 95g of soft butter, 50g of caster sugar, 2tsp of ground cinnamon (or cardamom) and 1/2 a teaspoon of vanilla salt - or just salt. Cover and leave somewhere the butter won't set hard in. Prepare a suitable tin for cooking the buns in - I use a 23cm springform tin lined with baking paper or a square tin which has been buttered.

The next morning about an hour or so before breakfast is wanted roll out the dough into a long rectangle, spread the filling over it, and roll into a long sausage. Cut into equal sized rounds and arrange in the tin. Leave for half an hour or so to rise, heat the oven to gas 6/ 200c /fan 180c, glaze the tops of the buns with an egg and sprinkle with demerara sugar (also optional), and cook for about 25 minutes or until done.

They'll be ready to eat in the time it takes to make a pot of coffee after they've come out of the oven.

 

5 Books for a Georgette Heyer Fan

I'm missing doing a booze and books series, but towards the end of a socially isolated year when money is tight for a lot of us it doesn't feel particularly appropriate on any count so I thought I might put some book lists together instead - which is rather more like counting my blessings than drowning my sorrows.

The Georgette Heyer readalong on Twitter has been a highlight of this year, undemanding in terms of time, interesting discussions, friendly, and fun. There is a planned readalong of one of the short stories in Snowdrift/Pistols for Two for Christmas day (I can't remember which one off hand and can't find it quickly either, but as none of these are long short stories not much prep will be required).

One of the things that I love about Georgette Heyer the writer is the quantity of other writers and subjects she interested me in (there's a post about it here). This seems to be a common thing amongst Heyer readers so here's a very short selection from what could be a very long list.

Snowdrift - Pistols for Two w

as the original title for this collection, but then in 2016 it was retitled as 'Snowdrift' with the addition of 3 previously uncollected historical short stories. I'll take whatever new Heyer is going, so I bought it as soon as ever I could. Heinman/Arrow have been reissuing a bit of Heyer in very smart Christmas editions over the last few years, mostly the detective novels, sometimes renamed. They're worth a look if you like classic crime with a bit of humour and haven't previously tried her.

Jane Austen: Writing, Society, Politics by Tom Keymer. This turned up as a review copy from OUP and was an absolute delight. When I'd finished Heyer as a teenager I moved straight onto Austen. They're most alike in terms of their humour. This little book explores different themes in Austen focusing on a different book for each topic. It's accessible, interesting, and will add something to any future reading of Austen. It's also perfect stocking filler size.

The Beau Monde - Hannah Greig. Also from Oxford University Press, this was waiting for me when I got home. I started reading it last night and so far it's really interesting. Definitely at the academic end of the scale it's not big on illustrations, but it's not intimidatingly long either and I'm really looking forward to a good bit of eighteenth century history.

Rory Muir's 'Gentlemen of Uncertain Fortune; How Younger Sons Made Their Way in Jane Austen's England' from Yale books is the one on my wish list. If nobody buys it for me it will be time to use some of the book tokens I've been hoarding for just such an occasion. Might it be a book that stays on the shelf unread for years? Maybe, but it sounds interesting and I can't resist it much longer.

And finally  it's an overdue mention of Slightly Foxed. My subscription needs renewing so it will be my Christmas present to myself. I started subscribing sometime around volume 16, and have been enjoying it ever since. There's a podcast, they do their own beautifully bound editions of certain books, you can buy a bag - but it's the quarterly journal that really has my heart. A quarterly journal sounds like something that would be very much at home in Heyer's regency world (I think a couple are mentioned), I love getting the post and spending some quality time with it. It's gently enthusiastic, a pleasure to handle, and a treat I've enjoyed for more than a decade.