But the success of this and other scholarly cook books depends on us buying them

But the success of this, and other scholarly cook books, depends on us buying them. ’Sichuan Cookery’ by Fuchsia Dunlop is published by Michael Joseph, £20. Madhur Jaffrey’s latest book, ‘Foolproof Indian Cookery’, is published by BBC Worldwide on 23 August, £14.99. Ten great untelevised cookery writers Anna del Conte’s definitive books on Italian cooking include The Classic Food of Northern Italy (£12.99, Pavilion).Elizabeth David was writing timeless classics such as Summer Cooking, while Fanny Cradock strutted her stuff on telly.Jane Grigson popularised cookery books that could also be read for pleasure. My favourite remains Good Things.Dorothy Hartley’s romantically rural Food in England was first published in 1954 when most viewers had yet to discover TV dinners.Simon Hopkinson’s Gammon & Spinach, and Roast Chicken & Other Stories are widely admired for conveying his passion for good food that’s impervious to fashionable foody trends.

He stands out against the influence of Ready Steady Cook.Richard Olney is no longer in print, despite writing his influential and wonderful Simple French Food. Clearly a case for Grub Street.Claudia Roden, with her enlightened mix of beautiful prose and delicious recipes, is among the great untelevised food writers living in Britain.Margaret Shaida may only have written one cook book, but The Legendary Cuisine of Persia (£14.99, Grub Street) is a masterpiece that you read with real pleasure.Yan Kit So is glamorous and brainy, and has concentrated on writing superb books about Chinese cooking including her Classic Food of China (£16.99, Macmillan – only available from Books for Cooks; 020-7221 1992)Alice Waters, an influential chef and writer whose evocative and inspiring books, including the Chez Panisse Menu Cook Book, helped re-establish seasonal cooking with simple, fresh ingredients.. Raw apricots, however ripe, leave me cold, but that doesn’t stop the fruit being transformed into my all-time favo-urite jam. When cooked, apri- cots turn from a pappy, unfri-endly raw state into something lusciously juicy and fragrant. This cake serves as a pudding, as well as the usual occasions.

4 apricots, stones removed and quartered2 tbsp caster sugar150 g unsalted butter150 g caster sugar2 medium eggsfinely grated zest of 1 lemon125 ml milk200 g self-raising flour, siftedThree quarter tsp baking powder, sifted1 heaped tbsp apricot jam, pressed through a sieveButter a 20 cm springform cake tin with a removable base. Sprinkle the apricots with a tablespoon of the sugar, and preheat the oven to 180C fan oven/190C/375F electric/ Gas 5. Cream the butter and sugar together until light and fluffy, then gradually add the eggs and the lemon zest, beating well after each addition Fold in the milk, flour and baking powder You can do this by hand or in a food processor or mixer Spoon the mixture into the prepared tin. Drain the fruit and arrange it on the surface of the cake, cut side up. Sprinkle over the remaining tablespoon of sugar and bake in the oven for about 55 minutes, until a skewer inserted into the centre comes out clean. Remove the collar from the cake, and when it has almost cooled to room temperature, glaze the surface with the apricot jam.

It is delicious eaten at this point, still warm, as well as at room temperature.. When Geraldine Bedell had her first baby, the guilt and panic she felt were overwhelming. For some mothers, such feelings can kill

In retrospect, there were good reasons why I suffered from post-natal depression There were aggravating factors. But at the time, I couldn’t even have named what I was feeling, let alone explained it away. I was simply a mother who wasn’t coping – which is one of the most shameful states for a woman – and I was in the grip of something enfeebling, something I didn’t understand.
I was young to be having my first baby. I was pregnant years before any of my friends, so there was no one to tell me truthfully what it was like to give birth or bring home a tiny infant.

I was living in the Middle East, it was July, and the temperature was nudging 42C, with 98 per cent humidity. Added to which, I’d just moved house, and the air conditioning wasn’t working properly My family was thousands of miles away. My father had died recently, and my mother couldn’t face the journey.The birth itself wasn’t what I’d been led to expect. At the classes, they’d suggested – or this is what I took away – that if you lit a few candles and played some Mozart, the baby would sort of slither out of its own accord I had practised the breathing. I was pretty confident I knew how to breathe.Now I know that the birth was primitive: cruel, even. But then I thought, if doctors and nurses gave you an enema and shaved your pubic hair and put you to bed with your feet up in stirrups, that must make for an easier birth. By the time my daughter was born, I was shaken and disappointed in myself (what was wrong with my breathing?).