For those of you not familiar with Rachel Allen, this blonde-haired, blue-eyed lass is the heir apparent of the Irish culinary scene; she studied at the world-famous Ballymaloe Cookery School and ended up marrying the owners’ son. Now a celebrity chef in her own right, she’s written books, starred in TV series, and even released her own line of electrical appliances.

Home Cooking is her latest offering, a collection of recipes for comforting soul food and family-friendly fare. Its eight chapters include Breakfast, Lunch, Sunday lunch (more festive than the former), Dessert, Snacks, treats and sweets and even Baby purées (not useful for me, but charming nonetheless). This is the type of food that you’ll make day-to-day or for family celebrations: good ingredients, simple to prepare and downright delicious.

Rachel’s personal brand could be defined as “feminine country”, and her books reflect this. Home Cooking makes prolific use of cutesy typefaces, the colour pink, small-scale patterns and photos of her angelic troupe of blonde children. While normally this kind of in-your-face girliness irks me to no end, I barely notice it here; the design is well handled and supports the content, rather than distracting from it.

Recipe pages are clearly laid out, with servings, ingredients, equipment and variations noted. There’s also a particularly useful “Vegetarian” heading for any dishes not containing meat (and there are more than you’d think). I also appreciate that Rachel doesn’t waste loads of time talking; while there are food writers whose words I lap up as eagerly as their food, she is clearly in the “cook who writes” camp (rather than the inverse), and knows it.

So if it’s not the design or the writing that makes me love this book so, it’s gotta be the food. Rachel’s cooking is perfectly up my ally, and I can hardly flip through this book without bookmarking something new to try. It’s not the most experimental or creative cookbook you’ll find, but neither is this all traditional Lamb Stew or Soda Bread. As my lovely (and Irish) friend Dawn put it over at Kitchenist,

I also like that her cooking is a fairly accurate reflection of Irish cooking now- one part traditional Irish food, some Mediterranean influences, a hit of Indian and Chinese flavours, and more American influences as well.

Most everything I’ve made from Home Cooking has been delicious. Smoked Salmon, Leek and Potato Pie (pg. 114) and Dark and White Chocolate Fudge Pudding with Zesty Orange (pg. 229) made for a delicious New Year’s Eve dinner, and Spotted Dog bread (pg. 32) was wonderful the next morning. I’ve tried the Brussels Sprout Soup (pg. 50), Tagliatelle with Smoked Salmon, Watercress and Peas (pg. 84) and Squashed Fly Biscuits (pg. 277), all to triumphant success.

In fact, the only disappointment so far was the Pizza Dough (pg. 149). Rachel’s recipe contains butter, an anomaly which confused and intrigued me. But besides making my hands extra-soft during the kneading process, I saw no benefit; the resulting dough was bland and tasteless, with an bizarre soft texture.

Still, one disappointment isn’t bad, and I’m hopeful it’ll be the last from this book. Next on my to-try list is Kedgeree (pg. 36), Carrots with Nutty Buttered Crumbs (pg. 126), and Fluffy Lemon Pudding (pg. 245).

There isn’t much I can say against Home Cooking; it “does what it says on the tin”, as they say.  The mix of recipes is good, though I would likely find it even more useful if I was omnivorous or had small children to feed. It’s probably too soon to say whether my love for it is the real thing or a passing infatuation, but either way I’ve been eating well in 2010 so far. A solid four stars.

I know. You’re probably thinking “that’s it?” While fun to flip through, The New Family Bread Book is hardly a looker. No, I don’t have anything against cute kids enjoying some home-baked goodness, but it’s a little, as I’m sure you’ll agree, meh. Inside, it’s pretty much the same story: ok photos, all right layout, but nothing special. It’s a prime example of safe, mainstream cookbook design- inoffensive yet unexciting. 

The author, Ursula Ferrigno, is an acclaimed Italian baker and cooking teacher, and she clearly knows her yeast. The first section of the book is dedicated to the basics of ingredients and techniques. It’s here we learn about the different kinds of flour used for bread-making, and what choosing one over another will mean for our breads. She also explains in detail about the different kinds of leavens, including fresh yeast, easy-blend (instant) yeast, starters and chemical leavens. And of course we learn all about kneading, rising, knocking back and shaping loaves. 

The first five chapters of recipes are dedicated to Classic Breads, Rolls and Buns, Pizzas and Flatbreads, Savory Breads, and Sweet Breads. The selection within the chapters seems slightly random, if I’m honest. In Classic Breads, there is Tomato and Basil Fougasse (pg. 43), but no Baguette? And do Chocolate Brioche (pg. 51) really belong here? Wouldn’t they fit better in with Rolls and Buns, or maybe Sweet Breads? 

Maybe I’m just being overly picky- there are some great-looking recipes here, after all. Classic standbys like Cheese and Onion Rolls (pg. 56) and Hot Cross Buns (pg. 66) sit comfortably next to new ideas like Curry Bread (pg. 116) and Saffron and Raisin Breadsticks (pg. 133).

Also, I have few qualms with any of the recipes I’ve tried from this book. Simple Focaccia (pg. 36) was indeed simple and fast to make, with a light crumb and great flavour. I adapted the Quick-rise Pizza Dough (pg. 76) for a stromboli, and while I needed at least twice the amount of water specified, the resulting dough was easy to handle and delicious. Though I accidently burnt the top of my Treacle and Date Bread (pg. 125) through my own negligence, it was still one of the most delicious breads I’ve ever tasted, let alone made.  

Where I think this book begins to let itself down is in the last two chapters, Yeast-free Breads and Pies, Tarts and Leftovers. To be honest, I’m not really sure what the point of including them was. Yes, I’ll concede that some of the recipes here, like Griddled Flatbread (pg. 161) and Irish Soda Bread (pg. 164) do seem to make sense in the context of the book. But do Corn and Carrot Muffins (pg. 159) or Savory Spinach Pie (pg. 173) really belong in a book about bread baking? Or, for that matter, does a recipe for Tuscan Tomato Soup (pg. 184)? 

I’m not so sure. Pastry, quickbreads and savory pies are all perfectly deserving areas of baking, but they’re separate from the specifics of baking with yeast, so shouldn’t they be treated as such? To just throw a simple scone recipe into a book about bread-baking, is to my mind, in insult to both scones and bread. Both deserve more. I think The New Family Bread Book falls into the trap of trying to be all things to all people, instead of focusing on doing one thing well. 

As a beginner’s guide to bread-baking, I would like to give this book a good rating for its demystifying explanations, clear instructions and some lovely recipes. But for aiming a touch too far beyond its reach, and for a depressingly pedestrian design, I have to give The New Family Bread Book only three stars. I am sure that there are better guides to bread-baking out there, and I’m definitely on the lookout. This one, though, will be going back to my sister.