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Straight off, I’d like to apologise for the bad pun (which only really works if you read it aloud). It’s Month 5, and inspiration is running thin.
And then the next thing is this: friends, I’m afraid to admit that this is the month where I came unstuck. This is the month where my previously iron-hard resolve to cook from a different cook book each month crumbled and softened to the point where all I could do was gaze wistfully at said book every couple of days, in the hope that this would count for something.
Let me rewind a little. A couple of months ago, invigorated by how well this whole cookbook-a-month plan was working out, I found myself looking for cookbooks in the closing-down sale of a local charity shop. To my utter amazement, I found a hardback copy of ‘Jamie At Home‘ staring me in the face. I took it to the counter where the conversation flowed thus:
Shop assistant (older, male – if that should make any difference): “Who’s this then?” (looking at the book)
Me: “Uh…it’s Jamie Oliver. He’s like a really famous chef.”
Shop assistant: “Oh.” (Pause.)
Me: “You know – he’s on the telly and stuff?”
Shop assistant: “25p.”
I could hardly believe my luck – the book which would usually cost the same as a meal out, was costing me less than a tin of tomatoes. Fast-forward to May, and the time came for me to use this book as my main source of recipes for the month. I couldn’t wait.
The first week went OK – homemade calzone (yum!), some nice pasta dishes, strange-sounding-but-good butternut squash muffins. And then I struggled. The book is structured around seasonal ingredients – fruit, veg and meat – which is not a problem in itself, but does mean that lots of the recipes are pretty simple things that you would usually throw together without written instructions. And, of course, the recipes are simple to allow the beauty of in-season tomatoes or bright-pink rhubarb to shine through – great if you own an allotment, not so great if you’re buying in all your veg (albeit from a local supplier). Also, because the recipes go through all four seasons – a calendar year – 3/4 of the book is out-of-season anyway.
So, I diversified. I decided to throw in my other Jamie Oliver cookbook to May’s cooking (Happy Days with the Naked Chef). From here, we tried Toad-in-the-Hole, Vegetable curry, Beef stew with Newcastle Brown Ale and Dumplings, and Chicken Breast baked in a bag with mushrooms, butter, white wine and thyme.
They were all lovely – but by then it was only half-way through the month and there really was not much else to try for a normal family meal.
I feel awful. I really do. It’s like breaking up with a boyfriend who has been nothing but sweet and kind – and yet the chemistry just doesn’t work. A classic case of “It’s not you, it’s me”. I know Jamie Oliver is not everyone’s cup of tea, but to me he’s someone I admire and respect and love to watch on TV. He has a great charisma, a real strength of drawing people in, and makes you feel like you can do it. I love what he’s doing for food culture in this country, I appreciate the diversity of his interest in food – and, amazingly, he even seems to have an incredibly grounded family life.
But, for me, his cookbooks don’t work. Fun to read, not so practical to cook from. Time-consuming and wordy (not ideal when dinner has to be on the table NOW NOW NOW). Either impossible ingredients (Essex Fried Rabbit, anyone?) or things I could do with my eyes shut (Roast new potatoes with sea salt and rosemary, for example).
This doesn’t mean that his recipes don’t work for anyone. I would imagine that if you’re just starting out in cooking and need to gain a little confidence, Jamie would be great. Also, if you’re an experienced cook who has great swathes of time to try out new and exciting restaurant-style dishes, Jamie has a lot to offer. But, for me and my little life at the moment, the chemistry’s just not working.
Jamie, I’m so sorry – honestly. I will continue to watch you on telly, grab helpful foodie tips from you about how to season things, how to throw flavours together, perhaps pick up some snazzy new ways to cook chicken – but, with regret, your cookbooks are going to the charity shop. Where, hopefully, they’ll pick up more than 25p.