French Provincial Cooking

No turning back

Elizabeth David's writings were hugely influential on acclaimed chef Margot Janse.

I had just arrived in South Africa. It was 1990 and I lived in Yeoville without a car and very little money to spare. Cookbooks were a major treat. It would still be another three years before I made it into my first kitchen and would realise my dream to make cooking my career.

I used to go for a walk down to Rockey Street and browse the shops. Next to Fruits and Roots was a second hand bookshop and it was there that I found a copy of French Provincial Cooking by Elizabeth David.

At the time, I had no idea of David's reputation. French Provincial Cooking was originally published in 1960 and the copy I picked up was an edition published exclusively for The Cookery Book Club in London in 1967 and for sale only to its members. It was slightly worn and without photographs inside. Nothing really said "pick me up". Yet I did, as somehow I realised it was special.

I had discovered a book packed with information and written from a very personal perspective. Ingredients are not listed in any order and the recipes were more like beautiful descriptions and read like short stories.

David taught herself to cook after studying French history and literature in Paris, where she became obsessed with food. Once back in England, she wanted to be able to reproduce the dishes she so loved.

I learnt that David had a fundamental influence on the way post-war Britain thought about food. She was opinionated, unconventional and led an exciting life of traveling, eating and writing cookbooks. She did all her own cooking and obtained the information fi rst hand while living in Italy, Greece, Egypt and India.

To read her work is to enter into a conversation and share her passion. I do not like anchovy paste normally. I think the local anchovette spread on warm toast smells like cat food. But when I read David's version of anchoïad, I am suddenly hungry, craving that salty, fishy taste.

She eloquently describes the pounding of the anchovies with the garlic, the addition of the olive oil, the toasting of the bread only on one side and smearing the anchoïade on the other before quickly putting it through a hot oven. It makes me want to sink my teeth into it

The recipe for a salad of artichoke hearts and lettuce is much more than just that. It is a tribute to a chef, Madame Brazier of Lyon, who created the salad. There is not much to the actual recipe, artichokes, butter lettuce, olive oil and tarragon vinegar - yet her description nearly fi lls a whole page. I am licking my lips.

There is Boeuf a la Mode, slow braised beef, served cold in its own jelly. She goes into great detail about just how unhurriedly the beef needs to be braised, describing how to remove the fat from the bouillon and how to serve it with the cold jelly. Suddenly I am eight again and standing in my father's kitchen on a rainy Sunday afternoon.

We are eating a little bit of draadjesvlees (traditional Dutch slow braised beef) taken from the large simmering pot on the stove - he has mixed it with some mayonnaise and tiny pickled onions, we eat it spread on some grilled bread.

Somehow David manages to remind me of the memories that have shaped my culinary character- the small delicious details that are clearly embedded in my brain and I wonder what would have happened if I had never visited that bookstore...

Janse is chef at Le Quartier Français's The Tasting Room, voted one of the world's top 50 restaurants every year since 2005 by Restaurant Magazine UK.