Beware: this is possibly the longest review I've ever written of a book I have only skimmed.
Three things I disliked about this book:
1. I had a very hard time convincing myself to “read” a cookbook. I usually skim. But when I skimmed I missed things!
2.I hate it when authors live in much more advanced, metropolitan areas and think that it’s easy to find 10 farmer’s markets “on the way home.” This just makes me jealous.
3. I find it suspect that someone would keep an ingredient such as rhubarb “on hand.”
Despite all of that, each diary entry that began with a description of the sky made my mouth water. (See quotes below.) This man clearly loves food and nature, and can ruminate very eloquently about both. Bravo, Nigel. Bravo.
"A sky as clear and bright as iced water; plum and pear blossom breaking out in the garden; the hot scent of grated ginger coming from the kitchen. If only all days could prick the senses like this one."
"A still, quiet morning, as humid as a Turkish bath. I sit barefoot in the garden, sipping green tea and listening to the sound of church bells."
"Arms red and tingling from the sun and sea air. We have huge, kite-sized pieces of flounder in batter, with lemon and thick fried potatoes, eaten on the beach. Worth the wait, the drive there and the drive back home in the dark with the windows open and the music on too loud."
"Hazy morning, the air silent and heavy. The garden is turning from pink to orange, aflame from midday, when the sun comes over the top of the house and floods the garden with burning light. Montbretia, nasturtiums, Indian Prince marigolds, dahlias, zucchini flowers, hot-eye watering flowers in bright sunlight line the beds. The tomatoes are ripening, a single eggplant is hanging down from the purple-leaved plant in a deep pot on the back steps. The garden is suddenly a vibrant, vulgar, scorching place to eat."
One of the few paragraphs that make beets sound appealing: "Two of us ate the beets and their greens with slices of crumbly goat cheese, hacking off bits of cheese and pushing them on to the still-warm beets with ruby-stained fingers. After the fudgy, chalk-white cheese and sweet, claret roots, we filled up on slices of thick buttered soft white bread…"
Something I very much want to do when I am rich: “One of the reasons I bought this house was because the doors to the small, narrow kitchen opened out on to the garden and when I found them to be rotten, I rejoiced and replaced them with a much wider pair, hanging them on parliament hinges so each door could be pushed flat against the outside walls, giving the effect of kitchen and garden as one. I cook with the doors open on even the wettest day. The smell of spring rain as I chop and stir brings with it a gentle freshness and energy…every plant, tree and bush seems to have woken up this week."