Neil’s cookbook of the week: Cooking with Elizabeth Craig

This week, we have another old book, and what a wonderful thing it is. Cooking with Elizabeth Craig is a very good book indeed, and one of my favourites. I can’t quite remember where I got it—perhaps my dad, but I’m not sure. It was a bestseller in its time, and I understand Elizabeth was very popular. It’s concise, well laid out, and was first published in 1932—almost 100 years ago. 

It begins with a guide to shopping and storing food, from a time before fridges. One line I particularly like reads: "to store meat, examine to see that there is no sign of fly, if there is, cut off part tainted and wipe remainder with a clean cloth dipped in equal quantity of warm water and vinegar." Brilliant advice! There’s also a note that you shouldn’t serve red wine with fish unless it’s salmon à la Parisienne.

The book contains about a thousand recipes, and it’s always exciting to open it and discover a dish you’ve never seen before. There’s a fantastic bread sauce recipe that I use, a brilliant pickled herring recipe, game dishes, and even instructions on how to cook capercaillie—though that's probably illegal now! There’s also a good haggis recipe, braised ox tongue, and a simple Scotch curry. With directions on how to prepare and cook almost anything, it remains a great 'go to' book.

Hailing from Kirriemuir, Elizabeth only spent a short time at cookery school but went on to publish many books in her lifetime, as well as becoming a great teacher. There’s a recipe for Glasgow gingerbread that I’m keen to try, which includes ground almonds and Barbados sugar—it sounds delicious. 

You can pick up a copy of this book for just a few pounds, but I think it’s worth far more. A great addition to any bookshelf.

Neil’s cookbook of the week: Bread Matters by Andrew Whitley

If you’re a keen baker and love making bread, you may already have Bread Matters by Andrew Whitley in your collection. It’s one of my favourite books for inspiration, or when something goes wrong. The simplicity of a loaf of bread is staggering. Andrew was a founder of the Real Bread Campaign and Scotland The Bread, an organisation aimed at encouraging us to grow more grain to make our own bread. 

I’ve known Andrew for many years, and he’s a good friend. This copy was signed by him, and it always makes me smile, reminding me of a wonderful evening at Cafe with Slow Food and Andrew a few years ago. We ate good food, gathered around big tables, chatting about food, but mostly about bread.

The book is filled with recipes, many of which need to be read several times before starting, as some require a few days’ work—like beginning a leaven or mother starter to make the bread rise using the natural yeasts in the flour itself, rather than relying on chemical rising agents like baker’s yeast or bicarbonate of soda. It still fascinates me that a good, proper loaf of bread requires only flour, water, and salt—nothing else. That’s one of the reasons Andrew wrote this book: to spread the word about good baking and thoughtful ingredient choices.

My copy is well-worn and has been with me for years. I refer to it often, especially for the troubleshooting section, which offers solutions to many common sourdough problems. I’m also fortunate enough to be a judge for the Scottish Bread Championships every year, which is great fun and organised by Andrew.

If making a sourdough loaf has been on your mind but you’ve never tried it, buy this book and give it a go.

Neil’s cookbook of the week: Food for Free by Richard Mabey

This is a book that is never far from me: Food For Free by Richard Mabey. It’s a concise collection that covers everything from seaweed to fungi to berries—all edible, but also notes those that are poisonous. With over half a million copies sold, it is undoubtedly the best pocket handbook for both seasoned foragers and beginners, complete with excellent plant illustrations.

The book mentions 240 wild foods. While it’s not primarily a recipe book, it does include some recipes. It provides top tips on what to do with various finds, offering ideas you might not have considered before. From watercress to wood sorrel, chanterelles to pig nuts, it will open your eyes to the wonders of the countryside.

It's nicely sized, not too heavy, and slips easily into a pocket or bag. The guide includes instructions on how to handle nettles and identifies mushrooms and plants to avoid. Identification is key here. It’s an interesting read even if you aren’t out and about. 

There must have been a significant reliance on wild foods in the past. The knowledge of the seasons was likely common, with everyone knowing when to anticipate the next wild crop. The diversity in climate and land types from Shetland to Cornwall means much remains regional.

It's a fascinating book. I love it and even lent it to a neighbour who picked mushrooms and is still alive—so it must be a good reference!

Neil’s cookbook of the week: Cookery and Pastry as Taught and Practiced by Mrs. Maciver

I have recently acquired a remarkable book at auction: Cookery and Pastry as Taught and Practiced by Mrs. Maciver, who was born in 1709 and taught these arts in Edinburgh. I adore this book and feel very fortunate to own such a rare piece. The copy I purchased is not a first edition but a second or possibly third edition, printed in 1805. The first edition was likely published in 1773, a time when the letter 's' was still written as 'f', a style that had changed by the time my edition was printed.

It’s fascinating to think about the people who have held this book over the years. The language is beautiful, the dishes described are wonderful, and the condition of the book is quite remarkable for its 220 years. This edition was printed in the same year as the Battle of Trafalgar and when Lewis and Clark were exploring the Pacific coast of North America.

Mrs. Maciver was undoubtedly a skilled cook, operating two cookery schools near the High Street in Edinburgh. The Enlightenment and the society of the Georgian New Town spurred a new era of eating, cooking, and entertaining in the fancy New Town houses. The recipes in the book are fantastic, featuring an early, if not the first published, recipe for haggis (spelled "haggies"), hare collops, and a citron pudding. The instruction to soak a venison shoulder or breast in its own blood overnight was particularly surprising to me.

If you find a copy in as good condition as mine, I highly recommend purchasing it. They are said to be quite valuable. Try looking through your relatives’ bookcases or exploring some of the remaining old bookshops—you might just get lucky.

Neil’s cookbook of the week: Recipes from Le Manoir by Raymond Blanc

Another classic from my collection this week: Raymond Blanc's Recipes from Le Manoir Aux Quat’ Saisons. I really like this book because it’s concise and features dishes that Blanc still makes today—truly classic and timeless. I recall many of the recipes from this book from my time cooking there. The kitchen was tough, but you learned quickly. It was fast-paced, with so many chefs, and it was always busy. The restaurant was constantly full, and there were a huge number of deliveries arriving daily. I remember the fridge filled with scores of foie gras terrines, the countless quail’s egg ravioli we made, and the dried vegetables brushed with truffle oil.

This is a great all-round cookbook that follows the seasons. The ideas are there for you to embrace and get inspired by. The book is filled with beautiful images, and with such a vast collection of recipes, it’s a noteworthy addition to any collection—simple yet always focused on the quality of the ingredients.

Blanc is a clever chef with a deep understanding of ingredients. He’s a great cook, supported by a vast team, and his garden is to die for. My favourite recipe is the terrine of foie gras; it’s decadent and utterly delicious, served with brioche and a sweet wine jelly—a perfect starter. Sadly, we no longer use foie gras, so its taste is just a memory now.

An abiding memory I have from working at Le Manoir is of scrubbing kilos of truffles. It was such a joy; even if the smell was a little overwhelming. Recipes from Le Manoir is a great addition to any bookcase. 

Neil’s cookbook of the week: The Scots Kitchen by F. Marian McNeill

There are many books in my collection, a few of which—that only come out on special occasions—are very carefully nestled in the bookcase of my ever-so-perfectly-kept home office. That last part is a lie, my office is a mess that resembles a cabbage chopped by a fledgling chef. Needless to say it’s mayhem, or rather, ‘organised chaos’. 

The Scots Kitchen by F. Marian McNeill is one such cherished book. I believe this copy came from my dear father, though I’m not certain how he acquired it. Originally published in 1929 and reprinted many times, this particular edition from 1940 is still delightful. A few scribbles inside suggest it was once given as a gift—a detail I absolutely adore. 

Perhaps you have heard of this book, or even own a copy. It captures a turning point in the history of Scottish cookery. It was very popular in its day, with readers devouring the authentic recipes and fascinating anecdotes. It’s still popular with me at least, as I love nothing more than delving into its pages on a rainy day. 

The book opens with: “this is to preserve the recipes of our old national dishes, many of which, in this age of standardisation, are in danger of falling into undeserved oblivion.” What a wonderful sentiment. As you read through the dishes, recipes, and the ways people ate over time, a rich story unfolds. I adore the rustic feel of the food—no tweezers here (take note, chefs).

The book offers everything from different types of oatcakes and Scots mutton pies to Howtowdie (fowl with a farce in a broth) and Powsowdie (a broth made with sheep heads and trotters). There are plenty of ideas for brose, using oats, oatmeal, peasemeal, and barley meal, or ‘beremeal’ as we call it. And a real fave of mine, how to dress a cod’s head and shoulders. There is also a Hollyrood pudding recipe. I’m pretty sure we have all seen a few of those in our time!

Meg Dods is name-checked throughout. She was a famous cook at the Cleikum Club at an old Borders inn, who was immortalised by Walter Scott in St. Ronans Well. She wrote her own cookery books and was very influential in the early 19th century. I will tell you more about her book in a future instalment…

There’s some absolutely fascinating stuff to be discovered in this book, including a brilliant appendix of Franco-Scottish domestic terms. Literally packed full of things we either don’t know or have forgotten. If you don’t have a copy, and you like all things Scottish food history, get your hands on one!

Neil’s cookbook of the week: The Savoy Food and Drink Book by Anton Edelmann

This week, I've pulled a true classic from my bookshelf: Anton Edelmann's The Savoy Food and Drink Book. As a young chef, I used to pore over its pages, mesmerised by the vivid pictures that still hold up well despite its 1988 origin. The cocktail selection remains particularly noteworthy, featuring both beloved classics and a few interesting new ones.

The Savoy Hotel holds a special place in my heart. I went there for an interview when I was 17, a year before this book came out, having driven all night from Scotland to be there for 9 am. The place was huge, there were kitchens within kitchens and it was terrifying. It was so long ago, I actually parked my Toyota Celica on the Strand, had my interview, and then drove to Reading to have an interview with John Burton Race. I didn’t take either job. However, later in life, I was asked to cook at The Savoy to celebrate Scottish food and drink. I was a guest of the hotel and had a suite overlooking the Thames, a floor down from where Monet painted that famous picture of the river. 

This book not only contains some remarkably simple-to-follow recipes, with very tasty dishes that are easy to recreate at home, but it also imparts invaluable kitchen wisdom, including essential knife skills and kitchen French terminology. It's been a continuous source of inspiration, especially knowing it connects me to culinary legends like Escoffier, who once graced those very kitchens. I find that astonishing. 

Anton Edelmann was a good friend of my dear friend and head chef at Kinnaird, John Webber—he visited us a few times and was a gentleman. Both John and Anton were sous chefs at the Dorchester hotel with another Anton, Anton Mosimann. It’s all connected somehow or other. John was head chef at Cliveden too…adding another leaf to our intertwined culinary family tree.

And let’s not forget that it was at The Savoy where the iconic omelette Arnold Bennet was born—a dish I had the pleasure of savouring for breakfast—a testament to the hotel's rich literary and gastronomic history. As I ponder my next read, I'm reminded of the fascinating tales yet to be uncovered in the world of food and drink.

Neil’s cookbook of the week: The Art of Anton Mosimann

My book choice this week is a blast from my past, as it was a book I often took to bed at night to pore over—looking at the pictures and trying to understand the thought processes and inspirations behind each dish. The Art of Anton Mosimann is a great book that really makes me ask questions. Do we eat with our eyes? If it's edible, it’s food, but at what point does food become art? Why does a dish look beautiful on one plate but better on another type of vessel? The beauty for me is in the produce, say a tomato, or a rare breed pork chop with a thick layer of fat. This book proves that produce can look good as well as taste good. The strawberry swan lake is quite incredible and so pretty. I also love the way he describes some of his dishes: a dialogue of fruit purées, gilded berry jewels, and an orgy of fruit de mer (an interesting one!).

Anton is hugely talented. He was born in Switzerland and by 16, after years of succeeding at sports, he went into the kitchen. At 25, he was head chef at Expo 1970, in charge of hundreds of chefs, and was well-respected. He’s well-known for a lighter approach to food and, for many years, was instrumental in helping to reduce the amount of butter, cream, and fats in our cooking. The food in this book is beautiful—some of the most elaborate food in any cookbook from my collection.

Another reason I like this book is that he takes a classic dish and turns it upside down, reducing the fat content and calories, so it can still be enjoyed. He uses lots of fruit for natural sweetness or poaches a fillet of beef—a dish I used to make years ago.

An old head chef of mine, John Webber, was his sous chef at the Dorchester Hotel in the ’80s, and he said Anton was always an absolute gentleman. My book is signed by him, but I can’t remember how I got it that way. It could have been passed down from my dad, who knew him. It’s worth getting a copy of this if you can, as it must be quite rare now. A piece of culinary history.

The Three Chimneys by Shirley Spear

I've been eagerly waiting to share this book with you. The Three Chimneys by Shirley Spear is truly exceptional, and one of my all-time favourites.

I often find myself flicking through it, and I can’t believe how old it is. The dishes are a brilliant collection of ingredients from the Isle of Skye, where the restaurant is located. The ability to transform these ingredients and old recipes into food that’s still relevant today is truly remarkable.

These days Skye has so many incredible places to eat. There’s Loch Bay, Edinbane Lodge, The Oyster Shed, The Stein Inn and Kinloch Lodge with their talented, hard-working chefs achieving fame and accolades. But this wasn’t always the case. 

I have immense respect for Shirley and what she, her husband Eddie, and their children created on Skye—it was truly trailblazing. Their story is wonderful; moving to the other side of the country, which back then felt like moving to the other side of the world, was a bold move.

The food I’ve had there has always been excellent—not pretentious or poncy, just really well done. I’m grateful to call the whole Spear family friends, having worked with several of them over the years. They are such lovely people.

The images are by another old pal, Alan Donaldson, a fantastic photographer. This book will always be an inspiration for me. It’s so similar to the food I love to cook and eat. If I were a young chef starting out, I’d buy this book right away. It covers everything you need to know about modern and historical Scottish cuisine, all still relevant today.

So many dishes stand out, and there are so many to choose from. Just imagine grouse, a perfect terrine, and a gooseberry tart—all absolutely delicious. Sadly, Shirley doesn’t cook at The Three Chimneys anymore, but I bet what she cooks at home is absolutely blooming delicious. She’s a real, genuine food hero of mine, and I adore this book. Thank you for creating it, Shirley.

Bistrot Bruno by Bruno Loubet

Bistrot Bruno: Cooking from L’Odéon Restaurant, by the talented Bruno Loubet, is truly a gem. Bruno arrived in the UK at a young age and swiftly made his mark as a brilliant cook. Nowadays, he's found down under, cooking on his own terms. He played a pivotal role in shaping the culinary landscape from the late '80s through the early '90s. After military service, cooking for an Admiral, he honed his skills at La Tante Claire under Pierre Koffman in London, followed by Le Manor with Raymond Blanc, and then earned a Michelin Star in his first year at the Four Seasons.

In 1995, he opened L’Odeon on Regent Street, a big place with 200 couverts. The food was good, honest and simple, the sort of food you want to eat, really proper, nothing poncy. Think aioli Provencal, huge salt cod with that tangy mayonnaise like garlic sauce, a salad of leeks with lardons and poached egg, and mussels cooked over a flame.The recipes are brilliantly simple, easy-to-follow, and as Shaun Hill says on the back cover, "this is bistrot cooking at its most exciting.”

I received this book as a Christmas gift back in 1996 from the train manager during my days on the Royal Scotsman – how time flies! If you get the chance, get your hands on this treasure.