I was given this book last December, as a leaving gift from co-workers at my old job. They had chosen it partially for the gorgeous cover (it was a fashion company, after all), but I immediately knew I would love the contents, as well. 

Tessa Kiros is a British writer born to a Finnish mother and Greek-Cypriot father, who herself has lived in South Africa and Italy. Falling Cloudberries is her family history, told through recipes and stories about food. Divided into six chapters for various regions of the world, it begins with a family tree, amusingly illustrating all the characters that appear in Tessa’s stories. 

Throughout the book, the pages are peppered with evocative, if at time disjointed, anecdotes about the family, friends and food of Tessa’s past. The photography as well is vivid and expressive. Not only photos of food, breathtaking lifestyle images (a ship in Helsinki harbour, a painted wooden door in Greece), also shine here. Needless to say, with its combination of illustration, images and text, Falling Cloudberries is a visual feast.  

In terms of the actual feasting (ie. the recipes), I admit that I had this book for some time before trying my first recipe. Something about just how pretty it is almost makes you not want to use it. It’s inspirational, definitely, but for the first few months that I owned it, I spent more time imagining how my family history cookbook would look and read, rather than cooking from Tessa’s. (Though that could just be the narcissistic, unpublished writer in me talking.)

When I did begin cooking from this book, I had mixed results. Prawns with Lemon, Peri Peri, Garlic and Feta (pg. 102) was unbelievably delicious, transporting me straight to a Greek island in my mind. Similarly, Baked Butter beans with Onions, Tomatoes and Parsley (pg. 121) was tasty, easy to prepare and make-ahead, so I can see myself relying on this dish when the weather cools down. From the Italian chapter, Ricotta Tart with a Chocolate Crust (pg. 331) had a subtle flavour, light texture, and made a refreshing change from rich American cheesecakes. 

Unfortunately, Spaghettini with Peppercorns, Anchovies and Lemon (pg. 292) didn’t go down quite so well. The flavour was overpowering, even for an anchovy-lover like myself. Also, I was a little put off by how many of the recipes require difficult-to-find ingredients. Understandable, some might say, for a book about international food, but I feel authors should make an effort to suggest stockists or substitutions, at least if they want their book to be used regularly. 

Also because of the varied nature of the recipes here, I got the feeling that the recipes here weren’t really aimed at me, or anyone else, for that matter. It’s wonderful to read about different tastes and places, but it doesn’t make for a very cohesive dining experience. Taking into account the dishes that I either won’t make (yawn, meat again) or am too frightened to (do they really deep-fry that much in Greece?), there isn’t as much in Falling Cloudberries for me as I’d first hoped. 

However, I have loved some things from this book, and still have a list about a dozen strong of things I plan to try. If I were rating this book on looks or reading pleasure alone, it would get top marks. For someone who enjoys a little armchair culinary travel, it would be a great buy. For the mixed bag of recipes, though, I give it a solid 3 stars.