The New Art of Cooking: A Modern Guide to Preparing and Styling Delicious Food

'If the divine creator has taken the pains

to give us delicious and exquisite things

to eat, the least we can do is prepare them

well and serve them with ceremony.’

Fernand Point, Ma Gastronomie (1969)

Being a Food Stylist

Setting the Scene

Preparing Ingredients Beautifully

How to Arrange a Plate

A Cook’s Toolkit

Breakfast

Finger Food and Snacks

Seasonal Salads

Soup and Bowl Food

Small Plates

Big Dishes

Desserts and Baking

Celebrations

Stockists

Index

Acknowledgements

Being a Food Stylist

When I was on the set of a global ad campaign recently, watching a male hand model’s cuticles being touched up with foundation by a specialist hand make-up artist, I thought to myself ‘that’s a weird job’. After this brief contemplative pause, I returned to the task at hand: inserting a chicken salad sandwich into the model’s now-pristine clutches, positioning cocktail sticks to secure the filling, grabbing my tweezers to tease out the prettiest leaves and then taking a tiny paintbrush to distribute mayonnaise across the underside of the bread. The rest of the crew looked on in bewilderment. Welcome to the world of ‘food styling’.

Styling food for photo shoots varies from the tweezer-toting precision of advertising jobs, where detail is paramount lest that sandwich be blown up on the side of a bus, to inspiring home cooks with atmospheric images for cookbooks, where natural lighting and realism make for the most delicious photographs. Food styling is both my profession and my obsession, but it’s the more natural side of it, focussing on flaunting the beauty of the ingredients themselves in a creative way, that truly inspires and informs my cooking at home.

A plate can act as a canvas and the layers and components of the food come together to form a whole picture through a play of colours, textures and forms. By paying more attention to how we buy, cook and eat our food, we can turn an everyday practicality into one of life’s affordable luxuries. Eating is a multisensory experience after all, enriched by the bright colours of the season’s pickings, the weight of a fork in your hand or the evocative smell of garlic slowly sweated in butter.

Spending most of my working day in a kitchen means that my style of cooking isn’t fussy at home; it makes the most of a few well-prepared ingredients and usually requires little hands-on cooking time. It is led by a love of good produce, colour and clever flavour combinations. The recipes that follow are a collection of things I most want to eat, dishes that make the most of beautiful ingredients but donʼt take hours to prepare.

Working as a food stylist comes with a certain degree of stress. Every shoot day is different, every new kitchen has its challenges and every recipe has its intricacies. I’ve been through it all, from cooking in a tent without any running water to crouching over a camping stove on a pebble beach. There will always be new, unpredictable and obscure issues, but having mastered a few basics (perfect poached eggs, the crispiest fish skin and the icing you can serve on even the most sweltering day) I now have the confidence to confront all the challenges that might be thrown my way. In a nutshell, I’ve learned from many mistakes so that you don’t have to.

This book is about lovingly crafting beautiful plates of food to be proud of, whether it’s showing yourself a little tenderness with a perfect omelette for one or sharing good food and too many bottles of wine with a gathering of friends. I want to show how easy it is to cook dishes that are just as pretty as in the pictures – and how a little extra thought when it comes to prepping and presentation can make all the difference.

Setting the Scene

In the world of food photography, we bring cookery to life by creating a scene that will invite the viewer to sit down and tuck in. From the plates to the table surface, ‘props’ create an atmosphere and enhance the real star of the show – your dinner.

The same goes at home. You donʼt have to take a strict and formal approach to setting the table. Sometimes it can be as simple as taking the time to choose just the right plate or light a candle or two. Itʼs about giving your cooking a backdrop and letting it shine.

Laying the Table

Setting the table initiates a ritual that tells you it’s time to set the day aside and focus on the meal you are about to dig into. Charles Spence, a professor of experimental psychology at the University of Oxford, even offers a scientific reason to take care over the presentation of food. He has studied the impact of all the aspects surrounding mealtimes, from the weight of cutlery (the heavier the cutlery, the more people are willing to pay for the food in a restaurant) to the colour of a plate (strawberries taste sweeter on a white plate), and how they influence our perceptions of quality and taste. In other words, if you light candles, lay down a tablecloth and pull out your best glassware, you’re already on your way to a good meal.

One of the easiest ways to create ambience is through considered lighting. Low lighting, ideally not from overhead, makes for a soft and sometimes even sumptuous setting. Candlelight and table lamps offer a subtle diffused light that is kind on the food and on your friends. If you have strong spotlights in your dining area, bring in lamps from other rooms and go heavy on the candlelight. I keep a stash of pillar candles handy, as well as tea lights, which I pop in small glasses, jars or pinch pots. When I am feeling romantic, I whip out the tapered dinner candles in candlesticks for some old-world elegance. Fairy lights wrapped around a tree or a bush in the garden can add a magical touch. I also have a few long lengths of festoon lights to illuminate the back of my house on those rare nights when the pesky English summer allows for outdoor entertaining.

Laying the table for a dinner party is best done in advance of the cooking – that way even if you are feeling frazzled in the final stages of preparing the food, at least the table will be presentable and give an impression of organisation when guests arrive. Your table-setting need not be overly formal; try putting the cutlery in jars or old mustard pots and popping them in the centre of the table for people to help themselves. This is a good solution if you don’t have room for everyone to sit down. And if you’ve limited space, you can put a folded napkin on each plate with cutlery on top instead of on either side. That way everyone can see how tightly they need to squeeze in.

At the risk of sounding old-fashioned, sometimes a small amount of formality can be fun and seating plans make excellent work of mixing up the chat and making tactical pairings. Try using postage tags as place names and flex your calligraphy skills. Tie the tags around napkins with butcher’s twine, ribbons or even fabric offcuts torn to encourage a frayed edge. Vintage clothes pegs or attractive heavy paper clips also do a good job. I have a vast collection of Japanese washi tape (see Stockists), a fancy thin version of masking tape, which I use for sticking things down, whether it’s a pressed flower to a menu card or some garden foliage to a place name.

If I am serving bread, a breadboard with a scattering of salt and a swipe of whipped butter (see here) gets plonked on the table. With other condiments, such as mustard, gravy or pickles, either take the lids off the jars and centre them on a nice saucer with a spoon, or decant them into a jug or bowl.

I often fill jugs or carafes with ice and make simple infusions that both add colour and offer refreshment. Try strips of cucumber and rounds of lime; watermelon chunks with mint or basil sprigs; or pink grapefruit and tufts of rosemary. (Don’t let the citrus steep for longer than about 3 hours as it has a tendency to turn bitter.)

Choosing crockery and cutlery is of course a question of personal taste, but opposite are a few pointers that you may find helpful.

Crockery and Cutlery

Curating a small selection of crockery and cutlery that you treasure goes a long way in elevating your eating experience. My personal collection is an eclectic mix of hand-made plates from one-man-band ceramicists, vintage French flea-market finds, curious patterned bowls from car boot sales and family hand-me-downs. Nothing matches, nothing stacks well, but there’s something to turn to for every occasion, and each one is unique, each with its own story.

When it comes to setting the table with such a diverse array of crockery and cutlery, I usually go by colour or tone, and you’ll see that the same logic applies to the images throughout this book. Objects that are, on the face of it, very diverse in style can be surprisingly complementary if you find a unifying element. So if you find harmony in colour, working with a few pale pinks say, then stick with the pastels. Likewise, if you have a few dark plates, you could contrast them with white for a monochrome look.

Pattern can be beautiful but sometimes too much detail will compete with your food. Having said that, some patterns are a playful nod to the style of food on offer, such as a stripe of maritime blue running around the rim of a white plate for seafood, or an ornate vintage cake stand for a Victoria sponge.

I am constantly on the lookout for wooden boards with interesting surfaces, as the different textures and forms add character to a display of cheese and charcuterie, or can be used as a breadboard. If you are feeling particularly crafty, drill a hole into a spare piece of wood and thread a nice lenth of rope or leather through it, then hang your new board proudly on display. I find the more worn a board gets the better, so I have stopped trying to keep mine pristine. As they weather and age those scars and stains all tell a story. Turmeric, on the other hand, is the one exception to this rule, and should be kept well away from wood unless you want its orange pigment to stay there forever more.

When it comes to dinner plates, I prefer to use mid-sized for serving food and I donʼt overcrowd the plate; you can always have a second helping if you are still hungry. I buy a lot of vintage dinner plates and hunt down unique pieces from emerging ceramicists, as the price of modern designer plates has inflated to unreasonable proportions. If you are serving food on large dinner plates, however, consider leaving space to let each element of the dish sing. Try not to fill the plate more than two thirds full.

From a composition point of view, serving a meal attractively is easier in a bowl than on a plate, and I’ve gone so far as to include a whole chapter on the subject of ʻbowl foodʼ. The high edges allow you to pile upwards, displaying the different elements of the food, and play with the colours. Consider using bowls rather than plates for stews and casseroles, as they will keep the liquid neatly contained. I like shallow bowls for pasta and risotto, allowing plenty of space for a fine veil of Parmesan or some crisped herbs, and lovely deep earthenware bowls for curling up on the sofa with soup and a blanket.

It’s useful to have a broad range of vessels for serving soup, in fact: dainty little Japanese lacquer bowls, rustic chipped enamel mugs, delicate fine glasses for chilled soups or very shallow bowls that allow you to play with the ratio of liquid to solid. The bowl will make a huge difference to how you taste and enjoy your soup: the depth of the bowl will dictate how much of the topping you will get in each spoonful (the deeper the bowl, the less space there is for garnishes) and the width of the rim will influence the temperature. Deep bowls work well for rustic warming soups, while I would choose a shallow soup plate with a narrow rim for more delicate soups like the Confit garlic ajo blanco, which I want to embellish with plenty of edible accessories.

Large serving platters work well for relaxed meals – you can pile salads in abundance for people to serve themselves or use one to display a slow-cooked joint of meat. I have a mix of sizes and shapes at home, but one or two will suffice. And of course, platters are also useful for serving nibbles.

Falcon enamelware is handy as it’s cheap, stackable and comes in many shapes, from pie tin to baking tray; it also looks good enough to bring to the table and it ages gracefully.

For a special cake, the height of a lovely cake stand will always make your creation look that little bit more celebratory. I also favour a snug 20cm cake stand for things like Panettone torrone Alaska or Ultimate chocolate cake. If you invest in a stand that’s at least 27cm then you can be sure that most cakes will fit on it (including the wedding cake). You can always adorn the bare edges with some draped foliage or fresh flowers if you would like to.

Brand new, good-quality cutlery can be expensive so I tend to turn to flea markets or charity shops for the elegant bone-handled knives I’ve collected over a number of years or other interesting second-hand treasures. Sharp wooden-handled knifes such as Opinels are my go-to steak knives and are a worthwhile investment until I can afford a set of Perceval 9.47s, the Rolls-Royce of steak knives.

Glasses

My mismatched collection of glasses is the result of charity and flea-market finds mostly, with the odd modern wine glass thrown in to appease wine aficionados. Tumblers wide enough to keep a large chunk of ice in place are a must for me, essential for water, whiskey and late-night negronis, as are everyday small sturdy tumblers. Don’t be afraid to serve wine in these, or double them up as water glasses. Cut-crystal tumblers also make an appearance when I want to look fancy.

I favour a coupe over a flute for champagne or short cocktails, as they feel just that little bit more elegant.

When entertaining, it’s a good idea to welcome your guests in with an inviting selection of glasses and drinks; you’ll find that people congregate around them, allowing you to get on with the cooking. Ice buckets can also be perched by the drinks if you have an open chilled bottle on the go.

Fabric and Flowers

While some like to channel their energy into styling themselves in well-thoughtout accessories, I spend a disproportionate amount of time considering how to dress my dinner table.

Tablecloths aren’t just for fine dining or having your granny over for tea; for me they transform my everyday table into an eating occasion. A good tablecloth goes a long way towards turning a basic garden table or trestle table into an elegant tablescape to flaunt your dinner.

Cloth shops allow you to buy fabric by the metre, presenting a cheaper alternative to ready-made tablecloths, and allowing you to collect an eclectic mix. You might sew up the ends (if you don’t the threads will pull after a couple of spins in the washing machine), though I think a few threads here and there add charm.

For the crumpled textured effect stylists covet, which you’ll see in the pages of this book, line-dry your linens or play up the creases and folds by ironing the cloth folded so the table looks effortlessly elegant but not too formal.

Overlapping multiple cloths is a pretty way of layering textures and tones on a table, and also useful if your cloth isn’t large enough to cover the whole thing. If you have pulled a few tables together to make one, this is also a good way of unifying them. Table runners down the centre are useful for marking the area where the food and flowers will sit.

From utilitarian tea towels to sun-bleached curtains and scraps of old cloth torn to size, nothing is safe from being called a napkin when I’m about. A collection of linen napkins are a treat, but these days there are some heavier paper napkins (see Stockists) doing a great job of emulating them, and when there’s a crowd to feed, these are infinitely more practical. You don’t have to iron linen napkins; try them a little crumpled, tied with string and with a sprig of lavender or rosemary tucked in. If you have herbs or flowers to spare, nestling a sprig of rosemary, a twig of bay or a few strands of lavender in each napkin can be a thoughtful nod to the season. Ribbons, nice string or scraps of linen can also double up as napkin ties. If you have linen napkins, try tying them in a loose knot. Knots in napkins give the excellent message that you’ve made a little effort but you haven’t got too much spare time on your hands (unlike, say, an origami swan).

Fresh flowers are instant table enhancers, but don’t feel you need to go overboard investing in some big blowsy bouquet. I tend to buy stems individually rather than pre-bundled at the florist; this way you can spend as much or as little as you want and pick your favourite blooms. Small bud vases are handy for displaying single flowers, but bottles and jars with the labels steamed off also do the trick, and can be spread out down the table without getting in the way of conversation or jostling for space with the food. Seasonality usually dictates which flowers I go for, but think about tones that will suit your tablecloth or the occasion – an autumnal gathering can be complemented by warm colours, while a summer evening might call for a pale white-washed palette.

Centrepieces needn’t be limited to flowers and candles; consider paying homage to the season or setting, whether it’s a foraged piece of beach driftwood, a scattering of seashells, an autumnal selection of bulbous squash or some festive pine cones sprayed with gold.

Preparing Ingredients Beautifully

The process of styling food begins well before it hits the plate. The key is to source sparklingly fresh produce and prepare it with care.

Local, seasonal and organic is the winning formula for buying flavoursome and good-looking produce that will be easy to turn into beautiful, enticing food at home. I am always seeking out intriguing varieties of fruit and veg: crimson blood oranges, green tomatoes or candy-striped beetroot. For pairing ingredients (and wine, for that matter) I often come back to the old adage, ‘what grows together, goes together’. Flavours you’ll find in season at the same time often complement one another: tomatoes and raspberries share a common sweet acidity, and bitter winter leaves are livened up by a spritz of citrus.

When it comes to storage and preparation there are a few classic techniques and tricks of the trade that will have a disproportionate effect on the finished dish.

Herbs

The use of herbs in food styling (and eating generally) has been turned on its head over the last few decades. Circa 1970, curly-leaf parsley was king and solitary sprigs hovered over every plate. Fast-forward to today and going curly is the ultimate foodie faux pas (along with the word ‘foodie’, for that matter). Clippings of coriander or delicate dill fronds now reign supreme. The best rule of thumb – for home cooks and professional stylists alike – is to garnish with a herb only if it is adding flavour or aroma to the finished dish.

Growing and buying herbs

Planting a variety of herbs in a window box or patio bed is the best way to ensure you always have the freshest looking herbs to hand, guaranteed to be more fragrant to the nose and perkier on the palate than shop-bought. If space doesn’t allow it, or they have hibernated for the winter, I tend to buy whole potted herb plants from the supermarket, which are a world above the limp clusters under plastic; they will last you a good week and are only marginally more expensive and bouncingly fresh, as they should be.

Growing your own herbs at home also opens up the world of flowering herbs. When my thyme develops sweet little pink flowers, my chives boast purple tufts or my borage flowers come out en masse, nothing is safe from a scattering of edible garden confetti. See here for more on this.

Storing herbs

If you have bought a bunch of delicate herbs like dill, mint or coriander and the ends are looking dry, trim these off before placing the stems in a glass filled with a little water. Store the herbs in the fridge; put a sandwich bag over the top of the glass secured with a rubber band to protect their extremities from the chill and maintain a humid environment. Be aware of the cold spots in your fridge and avoid storing herbs there, as they might freeze. I find the door of the fridge is usually the best option. If you have a large jar or container, you can simply put a little water in the base and seal the lid.

Coriander is so delicate it tends to wilt, so I always buy this on the day I am using it or buy it potted (although I still find it has a tendency to wilt more than other herbs). Potted is also a good option if you don’t have space in your fridge for storage.

Keep basil at room temperature, with the stems in a glass of water and away from direct sunlight.

Hardier herbs like thyme, rosemary and sage can be wrapped in a slightly damp J-cloth then stored inside a sandwich bag or plastic container in the fridge (I also transport delicate herbs this way if I am taking them to a shoot or packing for a picnic).

If you are prepping ahead for a dinner party, you can pre-chop or pick your herbs, put them in a bowl and cover them with a damp piece of kitchen paper. They will keep like this for a good couple of hours (it is something we would do when prepping ahead for a photo shoot).

Washing herbs

Do wash your herbs before using them, but be sure to dry them thoroughly. A salad spinner makes easy work of this without damaging the herbs, or you can dab them gently with kitchen paper. Don’t chop wet herbs, as they get stuck to your board and are easily bruised.

Picking the leaves

Picking leaves from their stalks is a part of cooking prep that often differentiates professionals from home cooks – it really is worth doing and is as simple as it sounds: simply use your fingers to pluck off the best-looking leaves from the stems. While this does add a little extra time to the meal prep, itʼs pleasant to do and can make a big difference to the look of the finished dish.

Thyme, rosemary, oregano and marjoram all have fairly small leaves and tougher stalks, which makes them easier to ‘pick’. Pinch the top of the stem of the herb then run your fingers down from top to bottom to strip the leaves off. For