Consumed

Oh yes indeed. This is one of those rare books that I couldn't put down. Cover to cover in one delicious evening sitting in front of the fire with a botle of champagne. Caroline Hamilton is one magnificent storyteller. A mouth watering kaleidoscope of Amelia, Katarina, vegetable gardens, groaning pear trees, tea, bread, pig slaughter, hypnotising chickens, market stalls, Baba Yaga, Lilith and Eve, the love of women, murder, revenge, curing human meat and bottling tomatoes. I enjoyed being revolted, I glowed in the company of women who understand the power of food and love, I felt ill during slaughter, felt sorry for the pigs but not at all sorry by the conclusion. Read it, buy it, send this woman as much encouragement as you can to continue to pour out her amazing gift for those of us who appreciate it.

Sneak preview:

'It is almost as if she is on fire as she tells me this. I can see small beads of sweat forming o her brow. I have never met anyone who tlks about food this way. She is animated, excited, and it is contagious. I want to whirl her around the room and kiss her square on the lips. I have finally found someone who shares my excitement for food, for eating, for cooking. There is reverence for flavour in this room, and some kind of religious fervour; I feel as though I've been baptised. This is my passion. Apricot angels singed with chilli are singing in my belly and I desperately want to know how she did this, how she made this happen.' Chapter 1

Lydgate is right. The creation of food for others is a sensual occupation. Hands busy creating and recreating textures that compliment, steam and juices mingling in a carefully conducted symphony, the eye savouring colour and arranging a canvas for the senses, the selection of wine or spirit to waken the tongue and lift flavour higher, the first bite of the creation and the small stillness of the recipient as flavours stream through senses gently, the complete involvement of the diner's body as they smell and taste and allow their mouths pleasure before your eyes. Yes, the creation of food is a sensual thing.