Browse recipes

Elderflower cordial cut with lemon, cucumber and mint over a lot of ice. Barely a recipe, and the most refreshing thing in the book.

Sweet, slowly-sweated leeks and floury potatoes blended into a thick, comforting soup. No cream needed: the potato does all of it.

Sharp apples baked under a thick, buttery oat rubble until the juices bubble up the sides. The one everybody actually wants.

Canned tomatoes and white beans simmered with garlic then blended smooth, so the beans do the work of cream. Fifteen minutes of cooking and almost nothing to chop.

Firm green lentils dressed while warm in a sharp Dijon vinaigrette, with plenty of shallot, herbs and walnuts. Good hot, better after an hour, excellent from the fridge.

Silky, garlicky and thick enough to coat every strand of pasta. Blended rather than cooked, so it takes about as long as boiling the water.

Soft olive-oil-poached potatoes and onion set in a chickpea-flour batter, cooked slowly until the middle is just custardy. Good hot, better at room temperature.

Coffee-soaked sponge layered with whipped cashew cream and a heavy dusting of cocoa. Assembled in twenty minutes, transformed by a night in the fridge.

A whole celery root scored deep, rubbed with oil and thyme and roasted slowly until the outside goes mahogany and crackling and the inside turns sweet and custardy. It comes to the table whole and gets carved like a joint.

Whole pears simmered in spiced red wine until stained crimson to the core, then served in their own reduced syrup. Almost no work and looks like a great deal of it.

A generous vegetable soup with beans and small pasta, built on a slowly softened base of onion, carrot and celery. The kind of pot that improves every time you reheat it.

Shop-bought gnocchi roasted straight from the packet with cherry tomatoes until the gnocchi crisp at the edges and the tomatoes burst into a sauce. One tray, no boiling.

The Provençal summer-vegetable stew, cooked the honest way: each vegetable browned so it keeps its character, then folded together to melt into a glossy, herby whole.

Oats soaked overnight in plant milk with grated apple, lemon and raisins, then loosened with yogurt in the morning and topped with almonds. Five minutes of work the night before, and breakfast is already made.

A deep red paprika stew of mushrooms, peppers and potato, finished with a swirl of plant cream. The paprika goes in off the heat, which is the trick nobody mentions.

Warm waxy potatoes, sliced into thick rounds and dressed while still hot in a sharp mustard-and-vinegar dressing loosened with stock, sharpened with finely diced yellow onion. No mayonnaise anywhere near it.

Good bread toasted hard, rubbed with a cut clove of garlic, then with the cut face of a ripe tomato until the crumb is stained red. Salt, olive oil, and nothing else.