Genevieve Taylor

This was given to me by my mum when I packing to go to university in 1992, I think mainly to stop me sliding her copy into my bags. This was always the book she turned to for making sweet treats; creamy vanilla fudge, rock hard toffee, crumbly coconut ice and squidgy peppermint creams - we loved them all and I associate this book with celebrations - Christmas, Halloween, birthdays….. I still use it to make the milk fudge at Christmas pretty much every year, enlisting the help of my kids just as mum did with me and my brother decades ago.

The only other cookbook I left home with as an 18 year old with bags of enthusiasm but much to learn about cooking. I think its fair to say if you are learning to cook you don’t really need to look any further than this book, it has all the basics well covered. And the best thing about it is - because this is Delia, queen of the domestic kitchen - the recipes are absolutely failsafe. You follow them, they work, you learn to cook. Simple.

Rightly or wrongly, this for me seemed to signify a next generation of food writing when it was published. I love the utter simplicity of the text, no embellishments, just simple words and instructions to match an almost purist list of ingredients, echoing the River Cottage philosophy of taking the best quality ingredients and letting them shine with fuss or pomp.

I could very well have chosen any one of Nigel Slaters books for my top ten list, I treasure them all. I love his descriptive writing, the connections he makes between food and memories. How he crafts his words has certainly had a big influence on my own writing. I’ve picked this as perhaps the most useful kitchen companion to own, teaching you in a gentle way what flavours can be expected to go with what and how to adapt recipes to suit what you have. I think of it more as a collection of ideas that inspire you to invent a tasty meal out of the contents of the fridge. Nigel is giving you wholehearted permission to deviate from his recipes, this is a book free from rules and I like that very much.

This is easily the shabbiest looking cookbook I own - a true testament to its usefulness that it has a ripped spine, dogeared torn cover and pages covered in various blotches of this and splats of that. This is a book I really love for its authenticity. Make a handful of tasty tapas, crack open a bottle of chilled Oloroso and transport yourself to a bustling Spanish bar.

I confess that I’m not a very good baker, preferring the chuck it all in method of cooking that doesn’t really work for baking, and I love Nigella’s ever so slightly tongue-in-cheek look at the art of perfect cakes, bread and pies. I guess it showed me that I can bake a cake, even though I’m not a natural ‘domestic goddess’ by any stretch of the imagination.

11 years ago I ran a tiny home-based jam, chutney and chilli sauce business, selling just once a month at Bristols Slow Food Market. My initial tentative foray into earning money from food after having my first baby proved a great success and spurred me onwards to bigger and better things. During that period, Marguerites jamming bible was a constant companion, and its well worn, splat-covered pages are still the first I thumb through when I have a glut of fruit or veg from the garden.

This book quite simply makes me want to jump on a plane and fly east. A flick through its colourful pages transports me to a part of the world I love very much. Its a very sensory book, I can almost smell the food and the market places, and hear the noise of the traffic and hustle and bustle on the streets. Yes, the lists of ingredients can be long and exotic, even before you’ve made the requisite spice pastes which come with equally long recipes at the back, but the edible rewards are worth it. For me this is a book to treasure on a wet miserable Saturday when I have plenty of time to cook up a feast for friends in the evening.

Another book that gives me really itchy feet. Not only is it full of interesting colourful recipes you get a real feel of a place and its often turbulent history. Its a reminder not only that food can be unifying but occasionally divisive too - who knew that hummus caused such arguments? I also love the photos, a gorgeous mix of tasty looking food and brilliant portraits of local people and places.

I was totally smitten with this book the moment I opened it, it's a thing of great but subtle beauty and like many of my favourites, it evokes time and place simply beautifully. It's a book I love to curl up and get lost in, totally absorbed in Elizabeth's intimate portrait of both cooking and living in a wild exposed landscape. Being as well travelled as she is, the recipes span the globe, so this is not singularly Welsh cooking by any means, but the focus is always on a tight connection to the seasons, giving the whole book a gorgeous ebb and flow.