Cooking: The Book(s) That Influenced You

Getting something On The Side is ticklish. Note I used the capitals to stop the sniggering in the back rows. Childish. Really!

The point is the varying degrees of difficulty presented by each of the columns in the blog. Food is infinite. If I felt the urge and, more importantly, if I thought your boredom thresholds could bear it, a Tom Cooks! column could be produced daily. The estimable Lindsey Bareham of Roast Chicken and Other Stories fame used to do just that for The Times newspaper.

And if there are no Tom Eats! articles in the can, it's never a hardship to have to find somewhere new for a bite. Having said that, my once steady group of guest reviewers seems to have been afflicted by writers' block. Come along, Messrs D, S & M: you too, Ms H and Ms M. Where are you? Let's be 'avin' you. (On reflection, I remove Ms M from that list, as she has contributed this year. But the rest of you used to make my life much easier.)

But On The Side. Tricky. I don't really know any chefs or food producers. And when they promise material but don't deliver, one can hardly serve a subpoena. So I hope today will encourage you to send in details of the cookery book or books which inspired you in your early culinary days. I'm not looking for a long and polished column - just a couple of paragraphs will do. Or get AI to write something. I may notice, but I won't spill the beans. (Makes too much mess on the kitchen floor.)

The idea for today's scribblings comes from a Facebook page which I follow. It's entitled The Chef's Circle and I commend it to all of you, not least because of the thought provoking discussions which it opens up. A recent one was 5 Amazing Chef Books You Need On Your Shelf. Now, what does that mean? I think even the author was a little confused. He listed Anthony Bourdain's Kitchen Confidential and Gordon Ramsay's Humble Pie, both autobiographical. There was the one of a kind work of genius that is Samir Nosrat's Salt, Fat, Acid Heat. Then there were two classic cookery books, Thomas Keller's The French Laundry Cookbook and Fergus Henderson's treatise on Nose to Tail Eating.

I'm interested in the latter category. I'm never sure whether I should write cook books or cookery books, but does it matter? I'm looking for your favourites. The ones you turn to now, or the ones that got you started. I confess, I rarely use books much these days, but I'm going to extol the praises of one (actually two) of the greatest. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Mastering the Art of French Cooking Volumes I and II. The original was the work of Simone Beck, Louisette Bertholle & Julia Child: Mme Bertholle dropped out after the first book.

Volume I originally appeared in 1961, two years later in the UK. I can't remember when I first got mine, but the paperback version disintegrated a long time ago. It always opened at Boeuf Bourgignon. And the recipes, 7, 8 or 9 stages. Never seen the like before, but I followed them all. I even tried to measure an eighth of a teaspoon. And the results, I have to say, were always spectacularly good. In fact, I will proudly assert that my beef bourgignon is the very best in the world. I challenged a Frenchman once, but he backed down. But, of course, when I say my I mean theirs. The three ladies founded a cooking school in Paris in the 1950s, L'Ecole des Trois Gourmandes, and decided to distil their knowledge into book form. The first effort was hardly a success. Six years' work yielded eight hundred (yes, 800) pages on sauces and poultry!

A helpful publisher pointed them in the right direction. Volume I runs to 670 pages in hardback. As well as numerous recipes, it covers kitchen equipment, ingredients and knife skills. I remember my early dalliance with Indian food. Eventually I found something within my capabilities, or so I thought. But that recipe called for a chicken to be jointed. I had no idea how to do this but I knew that MTAoFC would tell me. (I recall it took me about an hour and a half. I'm quicker now.)

Some important principles run through their work. With cooking, they declare, there is but one goal. How does it taste? The French are seldom interested in unusual combinations or surprise presentation. Amen to that. The recipes are incredibly detailed by modern standards. A recipe for lobster bisque in volume II runs to five pages with eight separate techniques. Precision in small details, they write, can make the difference between passable cooking and fine food.

Foolishly, I thought I had outgrown this book. Even in France, cooking has moved on hugely since the 1960s. We use less butter (unless you're James Martin) and, as you will know, Le Chateau Johnston is a cream free zone. Chefs don't use flour to thicken things any more. Does it still hold any relevance today?

I reread the intro to the first book. The ladies are writing my cooking mantra for me. "Too much trouble" or "who will know the difference" are the death knells for good food. And then I looked at the contents pages to see what I was missing. Book I has 100 pages on veg: book II covers only seven topics but it has 128 pages on bread alone. How could I have been so stupid to have left it behind?

I already owe these ladies a huge debt of gratitude for what they have taught me. I now see that there is so much more to be absorbed. Many pleasures to come.

What book or books have influenced you as a cook? Which are the best thumbed volumes on your shelves? Please share them with us.