Читать книгу The Vicar’s Wife’s Cook Book - Elisa Beynon - Страница 5

If you don’t like being around food, it isn’t the best idea in the world to marry a vicar …

Back in early 2007, idly standing at the check-out in Waitrose, my eye chanced upon a headline on their in-store magazine. ‘Win a £20,000 book deal.’

It didn’t sound such a bad idea.

Back at home, I showed the Vicar the article. Written by Nigel Slater, it put out a plea for a new food writer; someone who could give even him a run for his money. (Yeah, right.) The Vicar, bored silly of years of my dreamily droning on about writing a cookery book, literally begged me to enter. Here, at last, was something to galvanise his unmotivated little wife into action.

A few months and a fair few recipes later, I found out that I’d won – and I haven’t stopped pinching myself since. Untrained, I only learnt to cook because marrying the Vicar necessitated some sort of culinary provision for passing guests. However, I beg you, do not misunderstand me here; I didn’t have to learn. The Vicar is a very gentle man and he would never have forced me into an apron and frog-marched me into the kitchen, but, somehow, being with him did propel me towards the stove.

For a start, we couldn’t afford to buy take-aways for all our many visitors; and secondly, I wanted to make him happy and look after him a bit. The poor man married me the year my father died, and he was a triumph at mopping me up and patiently being there as I struggled to cope. The very least I could offer in return was a nice hot dinner at the end of a long day. However, whilst my initial forays in the kitchen may have been altruistic, I confess it didn’t stay that way for long. Very gradually, from being someone who counted Fruit Pastilles as part of her five-a-day, food and cooking began to excite me. I didn’t have a house packed with cook books; I didn’t have the best kitchen gadgets or the finest fridge-freezer; but I did have eyes to explore the delights of fresh produce, a nose (and mine is quite large) to sniff and savour, and hands to explore, examine and touch. Over time, and very many little messes, I began to understand the beauty of marrying different flavours: how chillies and limes are a match made in heaven, and that when cumin met lamb it was love at first sight.

Not only that, I found that whilst cooking made me happy, it made others happy, too. As someone who is indecently protective of friendship and relationships, this was addictive stuff. Having people over and letting them know through the food that I prepared for them that I loved them and cared for them, was, and is, a wonderful thing. I am not the most practical of people, and at times I forget to return calls or write a thank-you note, but I can manage to put my mind to the person who is coming to my house and ponder what this friend would really like to eat.

Unlike animals, food is more to us than mere fodder: meals feature in those memories we have that evoke a passion, a sense of comfort, or a feeling of calm. And I confess that when I cook for friends and family, my longing is to provide something that will ignite a spark. I want to give them something personal and say, on a dinner plate, ‘I love you, you know.’ It might be grazing food for a love-sick friend or sausages and mash for a hearty lad, but in everything I cook, I want it to send a message.

As a result, this book is quite personal. I talk about people I know – and love – very much. And, yes, I have planned the recipes around them. As you turn the pages of this book you will undoubtedly pick up that the Vicar loves lamb and that I do try to find out my guests’ food likes and dislikes before they arrive at my table. As eating is, for me, inextricably linked to the people I shared it all with, I have also included a few anecdotes along the way. If you want to skip them and move on to how many onions you need, I won’t be in the least offended. I offer it all, not to be prescriptive (how dare I?) but, hopefully, to inspire.

Your friends and family may be different from mine, but we all need to remember to relish the people we love and, dare I suggest it, enjoy the delights of feeding them. I hope these recipes will help you to do just that, even a little.