I bought this book in the spring of 2000 and I have literally never put it down. Its spine is broken, its pages are dirty, and it is falling apart. It can take a lot love, strain, abuse and argument.
That said, when was the last time you had a really great teacher? This is probably the best and the most important cookbook that has been published in the last decade (the last big one, for me, was Sheila Lukins and Julie Rosso's New Basics). Nigella inspired me. Obviously, she knows how to make and serve superb food. But she can also write, in a voice that is straightforward, simple, and direct; and she makes you want to cook.
Her credo is directed toward those of us who eat well and also struggle in the kitchen at home: we are a generation of cooks who have been cowed in the kitched by "too much cheffiness," the endemic fussiness of restaurant food; and the subsequent intimidation we experience from professional chefs and food celebrities (clearly she wrote this before she became a superstar). Instead of trying to replicate restaurant food, she argues, we should consider the distinction between how we eat at home and how we eat when we go out. This book directs itself toward how we eat at home. And her answer is simple: make what you want to make, in the time that you're allowed to do it. Therefore, this book is organized by time and convenience, rather than by region or category. You get whole (albeit limited) menus, rather than exhaustive descriptions of one regional category or another.
I have probably cooked every recipe in this book and (like one of the previous reviewers) I have some of Nigella's recipes permanently under my belt--alas, in more ways than one. The parsley salad with red onion, capers, and lemon juice is a permanent fixture in my life now; so is her red wine onion gravy (for sausages and mash, even though I disobiently use chicken or turkey instead of pork). I make that @!%$ recipe for chickpea and pasta soup more than I can bear to admit, even to myself, because it's inexpensive and it works. Nigella even instigated enough courage in my soul to actually purchase and cook oxtails, and she was right: they are less trouble than you would expect, delicious (and cheap). I also completely understand her obsession with rhubarb . . . and linguine with clams . . . and ham cooked in cider . . . and creme caramel made with coconut creme instead of milk . . . and the pleasure of laying out nice things you bought at the store when you can't deal with imprisoning yourself in the kitchen.
In the meantime, you have her stories to keep you company--her family's celebrations and tragedies, the tribulations of raising small children, and the most beautiful drag queen in all of Florence.
What more could you ask? This book acts as a guide to the hidden culinary adventures possible in your own home. Familiar energizing ideas suddenly offer up new ones, and old neglected ones naggingly call your name until you get off your ass, go out and try something new
Four years later, I am not by any means finished with this book. It waits, open, spattered and torn, by the other cookbooks that I love to flip through but rarely use. It now forms part of the fabric of my life. Forget the hot shots and the style network . . . she an oracle of our modern age, where everything is available but we have no idea what to do with it.
