Nights Out At Home by Jay Rayner

In the world of food, there is a variation on a slur sometimes cast at teachers. Those who can, cook; those who can't, write about it. Discuss.

Very well, since you ask. In the case of some food writers, the lack of culinary knowledge is embarrassingly obvious from their writings. The converse, however, is equally true - see, for example, the knowledgeable articles which appear in magnificent columns such as Tom Eats!

The Great Plague at the beginning of this decade brought that into sharp focus. Having no restaurants to go to, writers had to improvise, cooking the stuff being an obvious outlet. This often laid bare a complete lack of experience in the kitchen. For example, it transpired that the esteemed Marina O'Loughlin had never jointed a chicken. Jay Rayner, on the other hand, was in his element, cooking along at a high level with Michel Roux. The criticism levelled at him had nothing to do with a lack of skill, the faults being the more common home cook ones, such as licking of fingers.

From there Jay went on to win Masterchef: The Critics with ease, no great surprise to those of us who are regular followers. He has now gone one step further with the production of his first cookbook, Nights Out At Home. The subtitle is Recipes and Stories from Twenty-Five Years as a Restaurant Critic. In Johnston Mansions this presented a considerable quandary. For some time I have been attempting to apply a one in, one out policy when it comes to cookbooks. The shelves in the kitchen are full, as is the book space to the left of my desk. Having applied a few, quite ruthless culls over the past couple of years, I'm really not sure whether there any I can bear to part with.

I was away when the book came out, and missed the tour. But then I discovered I had credit on a gift voucher, and succumbed. There is a very sensible introduction which ought not to be skipped. Even before his days as a critic, Jay found himself playing around in his own kitchen attempting to replicate dishes he had enjoyed while eating out. I do this too, as do my friends who are good cooks. We often compare notes as to why we've failed. Jay admits he has had the occasional advantage of input from the chef who created the original; however, the stress in the title is on the phrase At Home.

Someone once gave me a large and shiny book with the greatest hits of one of the world's top chefs. After fifty beautiful and glossy photos there were recipes for each, many extending to multiple pages. I could no more have made these than fly in the air. That's not what this book is about.

In the cases where the dish came from a high end place, Jay is at pains to stress that he is aiming at a domestic approximation. He recognises that four highly skilled full time chefs may have been involved in a single plate. (And many of the high flyers have published multiple books anyway.) For that reason, Jay says many (but by no means all) of the stories and the recipes represent the joyously smaller and lesser known places. The influences range from the old London establishments (Rules, Quo Vadis, The Ivy) to transatlantic classics (The French Laundry, Per Se). But against those there are so many little Chinese, Indian and Japanese places you've probably never heard of. Scotland is represented by Ondine and Gloriosa. If you think it's all at the higher end, be aware that recipes also include variations on McDonald's deep fried apple pies and Greggs steak bake.

One of the many delights is that so many of the recipes come with a story, as well as some of the problems encountered in attempting them. In addition there are half a dozen Intercourses, short essays in Jay's eminently readable prose.

This really has given me lots of ideas for Tom Cooks! Not from the book, obviously, as I don't have permission to reproduce any of it, but from my own attempts to perform the same exercise from meals out which I've enjoyed. And Jay's recipes? Some time ago I raved about a miso glazed aubergine dish which I ate in Kanpai in Edinburgh. It transpires that Jay's version of nasu dengaku is a little different, but it did taste wonderful, and the great man himself approved my picture.

Go on, you know you can find a wee space on a shelf somewhere. And it's only 22 quid. And Christmas is coming.

Jay Rayner

Nights Out At Home

Penguin Random House                   £22                                                 pp361