In The Land Of Plenty

In a recent MasterChef episode, contestants in the elimination challenge were told they had just 10 minutes to prepare a dish to serve to the judges. The frenzy to grab ingredients from the pantry then cook and plate up was a reminder that when in doubt, let the key ingredients do the talking. Keep it simple, allow the flavours of the meat, fish, spices or whatever flow through, and don’t swamp them with too many tricks.

This may explain the popularity of British-based Israeli-born Yotam Ottolenghi’s two cookbooks, Ottolenghi and Plenty. Published in 2008 and 2010 respectively, their philosophy is simple: unfussy preparation maintains the freshness of the dish and creates a memorable meal.

Both books’ outstanding production are obvious, but when Ottolenghi first arrived in our shop in late 2009 I was perplexed: why had this small and (then) expensive hardback captured the hearts of so many local cooks when the Ottolenghi eateries were based in London with chefs cooking for British palates?

One of the first booksellers to discover Ottolenghi was Tim White of Books for Cooks in Fitzroy. “We read and we keep abreast of what’s happening in cookbooks, and we probably would have had some feedback from colleagues based in the UK,” he reflects. “Ottolenghi is a very hip and happening place.”

Tim believes part of the appeal is “the very strong design ethos of both books. Yotam has an eye for design and presentation. And it’s also in step with the current zeitgeist. We have a Mediterranean climate, we have strong Mediterranean influences in our food, and I think the books fit strongly with that subliminal Mediterranean feeling that Melbourne has.”

Like those savvy cooks in the MasterChef challenge who let the true flavours shine, Ottolenghi doesn’t over-complicate his ingredients or processes. As he explains in Ottolenghi, which he wrote with business partner Sami Tamimi, “we love real food, unadulterated and unadorned”.

Plenty is guided by the same principles but its focus is on vegetarian cooking. Ottolenghi grew up in Israel and recalls that his mother’s local greengrocer “sells a fantastically fresh abundance of local and seasonal fruit and veg; what I call real fruit and veg because they look real, taste real and are grown by real people – that is, Arab or Jewish farmers and not nameless farmers across the globe’’.

Ottolenghi writes a regular vegetarian cooking column in The Guardian. His latest book reflects these columns, and his and Tamimi’s own cooking styles. It is an exciting addition to a genre of cookbooks that so often lacks spark and innovation.

Many of the recipes can also be adapted to include meat, chicken, lamb, fish and the like, so don’t think it’s all chickpea burgers and pumpkin scones. The stand-alone appeal of roasted parsnips and sweet potatoes with caper vinaigrette or Jerusalem artichokes with manouri and basil oil is obvious, but they also make delicious accompaniments to meat dishes.

And if you’re “meated out’’ for the week, or low in cash, a dish such as chickpea, tomato-and-bread soup, or smoky frittata or multivegetable paella offers a great main-course option.

Future MasterChef contestants would do well to sneak these two books into the house, swot up at night then hit each challenge with renewed respect for fresh food and simply constructed dishes. Thousands of Ottolenghi and Plenty fans can’t be wrong.