Introduction

This is my second book on vegetarian cooking, and the culinary climate has indisputably changed for the better in the five or so years that have passed since I wrote the first. Rather than being relegated to the sidelines or dismissed as problematic, vegetarian food is now, rightly, widely celebrated for its diversity and myriad benefits, whether for health or in terms of cost or the environment. The time is right for a book packed to the rafters with ideas and a rainbow of colors, so you never need wonder what to cook for any occasion.

You might be looking for inspiration after a lifetime of vegetarianism, or seeking ideas for new meat-free meals; there will be recipes here for you, almost all based on our sheer and fabulous variety of fresh produce. There are chapters on Grazing and Gatherings to cover the sociable, convivial way we eat on weekends. Many of these recipes are slower projects: gnocchi made with purple potatoes and baked with goat cheese and kale, or vegetable-filled pot sticker dumplings with a black vinegar and chile dipping sauce. The Afters chapter was written with entertaining in mind, too; many of the recipes are made without common allergens such as dairy, eggs or gluten, or are simply vegan, to make it easier when cooking dessert for a crowd. Hopefully, a single recipe—such as the Blood Orange and Olive Oil Cake with Almonds, or the Roasted Pineapple, Coconut and Kaffir Lime Sorbet—should suit all.

Both the Quick and the Thrifty chapters cover midweek eating, with faster cooking and, usually, fewer ingredients, to get supper on the table without much fuss or expense. A note on “quick cooking”: I want you to feel inspired and happy to be in the kitchen, rather than coaxed there with broken dreams of supper-in-six-minutes-using-only-three-ingredients. Quick, for me, means a good supper in thirty minutes or so . . . and time to unwind as I cook. Based on this premise, I hope you will forgive me for failing to hit the frenzied fifteen-minute mark in most cases. . . .

Mornings, one of the larger chapters in the book, is intended to straddle both weekday and weekend eating, from brunches to snacks, juices to smoothies, nut milks to butters, providing balanced ideas that aren’t full of sugar. Many of the recipes (Sweet Potato Cakes with Lime and Avocado, or Overnight Smoky Baked Beans, for example) will also do just as well later in the day.

I feel that the key to satisfying vegetarian cooking is in contrast. This is most evident in East Asian recipes—you will find many here—where the balance of hot versus cool, crisp versus soft, sweet versus sour, chile heat versus refreshing herb, is all. The theory has legs beyond East Asia though and, if you bear it in mind, will add so much to your cooking, even if it is simply in making a perfectly balanced salad dressing or adding hot toasted nuts to a cool dish as a final flourish of texture and temperature. Consider texture and temperature as much as taste; it will elevate your cooking. So will putting effort into the basics: A patient and wise cook will tease out extravagant base flavors as, say, a chopped onion slowly caramelizes in oil or butter, adding revolutionary flavor to their finished supper. Never trust a recipe that tells you to soften an onion in three minutes!

Any food writer has to pick a level at which to aim, from three-ingredient, five-minute cheats for novice cooks right through to high-end, restaurant-style projects for the ambitious and highly skilled reader. The level of this book, if you will, is that of keen and interested home cook, as I find many vegetarians to be. I assume you have a good array of spices in your pantry and won’t mind being generous with fresh herbs. The sheer variety of fresh produce available to many of us is astonishing and inspiring, and this forms the basis of this book, so you will have to forgive the odd weird and wonderful vegetable or less common herb creeping in. You will find advice on where to find them, and I have always tried to bear the fraught supermarket shopper in mind, suggesting good alternatives to any unusual additions.

Thoughtful eating—by which I mean “healthy with a good dose of common sense”—shouldn’t be tricky and needn’t be patronizing. I find the popular practice of demonizing certain foods an utterly joyless experience; far better, I think, to eat natural and unprocessed most of the time and let life take its enjoyable course for the rest. In a nutshell: Eat a rainbow of vegetables (most of the time) with real ingredients rather than processed (most of the time) . . . which is where the Raw-ish chapter comes in. Here, you will find recipes that give a particular nod to vibrancy without compromising on taste, via, for instance, a simple (but wonderful) Grated Brassica and Date Salad, or Almond-Stuffed Vine Leaves.

Still considering raw foods, I run through sprouting for beginners, achievable ways to ferment and how to incorporate seaweed in your cooking—all incredibly nutritious habits, and enjoyable and delicious rather than worthy. It makes sense to me, for example, to soak nuts and seeds when the idea strikes and I have a spare minute. Put simply, the soaked nut or seed (or, indeed, grain) gets ready to sprout. Slowly dried out or not, the texture and taste improve, too; almonds, for example, plump up and taste fresh and true with a milky “snap.” Even undried soaked nuts are delicious and make an interesting texture tossed through a salad or steamed grain.

I use whole grains often—nearly always, in fact—favoring their rustic character and ability to keep us feeling satisfied for longer . . . but if a recipe would be made clumsy by their inclusion, I see no problem in using the refined equivalent. See the ingenious Malaysian fresh spring rolls known as popiah in this book: I tried making the delicate wrappers with whole-grain flour, but it lacked the elasticity needed for such a thin spring roll skin. Surely eating a wide range of colorful, natural ingredients and enjoying them is more important than the odd handful of white flour in the mix?

Grains, unrefined or not, are not always in fashion, as they are rich in energy-giving carbohydrates. . . . But this isn’t a diet book, it’s a cookbook full of recipes for giving pleasure, sometimes wholesome, sometimes less so, and grains are invaluable for balance. In their dedicated chapter, they add interest as well as welcome bolster, in light, crunchy Quinoa and Fava Bean Falafel with Lemon, or a resonant Very Green Spelt “Risotto.”

As for sugar, that other ready carbohydrate source, I try to use naturally sweet vegetables and fruits and just enough unrefined sugar in lieu of refined versions. Unrefined sugars—from maple syrup to natural raw cane—contribute nuanced flavor and trace minerals without such a sharp spike in energy. They are still sugars, though (not a bad thing, just a reminder). Concentrating and caramelizing the sugars in vegetables and roots through a roast in the oven or a flash in a griddle pan is a technique I use often, to add all-important zing and balance. Relishes, sambals and fresh chutneys, such as Sweet Pepper and Chile Jam or Roasted Tomato and Pickled Lemon Relish, sing with flavor as they aren’t packed with sugar.

Assuming you eat enough vegetables, I find the nutritional trick with vegetarian food is to give thought to protein . . . with the caveat that most of us don’t need vast slabs of it to make it through the day. A sensible amount—nuts or seeds, pulses, eggs, dairy yogurt or cheese, whole grains or soy products—will suffice. You’ll find myriad ways of using them here, often championing nuts and seeds (underused, well-priced protein and invaluable for interest). Combine a couple of proteins for extra boost and more variety; for instance, a handful of cooked freekeh grains add substance to a lima bean–rich tabbouleh with a good dusting of Sesame Seed Za’atar in the Grains chapter.

And it’s worth noting that cheese can be an issue for vegetarians. Rennet, an enzyme used to coagulate many cheeses, is traditionally derived from bovine stomachs. It’s easy, however, to find vegetarian cheeses made with nonanimal rennet. In this book I have only used cheeses exclusively or commonly found in vegetarian form. If you are a nonvegetarian trying to eat more meat-free food, this is unlikely to concern you. The choice is entirely yours and cheeses can be swapped to suit. You will also find recipes for rudimentary rennet-free fresh cheeses in these pages, in the form of ricotta and labneh.

Protein is, perhaps, an even more important issue for vegans. The protein in nonanimal foods does not contain the full quota of amino acids the body needs, but combining certain foods—such as dried beans, peas or lentils with whole grains—completes the essential amino acid quota. In practice, this could be as simple as baked beans on whole-grain toast, but a grain bowl with a tahini dressing or a tofu and noodle stir-fry has the same effect. (I found it easier to avoid honey in any otherwise-vegan recipes, as it can be a contentious ingredient, and maple or date syrups are an easy swap.)

Predominantly, this is a book to celebrate fresh produce. I hope the emphasis on ebullient vegetables and bold flavors will inspire you through the seasons and occasions. There is certainly an interest in health and vitality threaded through it, but hopefully a measured and realistic strand. Above all, my intention is that you will cook these recipes for yourself and for loved ones, vegetarian or not, and that they will bring you joy.