Slater - Eat: the little book of fast food

bacon and pancetta

beef

chicken

duck

lamb

pork

rabbit

sausages and chorizo

cod

crab

haddock

kippers

mackerel

mussels

salmon

sardines

shrimp

squid

fava beans

peas

asparagus

broccoli

cabbage

kale

leeks

beets

carrots

jerusalem artichoke

parsnips

potatoes

turnips

corn

cucumbers

eggplant

mushrooms

squash

apples

bananas

figs

mango

raspberries

strawberries

tomatoes

beans

pasta

rice

eggs

mascarpone

mozzarella

ricotta

Early in 1991, I received a letter from Louise Haines, from the publisher Michael Joseph, inquiring whether I had ever considered writing a book. She had read a piece I had written in a magazine and wondered whether we could meet up. I replied that I was flattered and grateful but felt that writing a book was beyond me. Two days later she had talked me into lunch. A meal at which we hatched the idea for my first book, Real Fast Food , which was published in autumn 1992. Twenty-one years, ten cookbooks, a memoir, a collection of essays, and a change of publisher behind us, she remains my editor. I can never thank her enough.

Louise, this book is for you.

To: James Thompson, for his endless inspiration, wisdom, support, and friendship. Without you there would be no books, no television series, and my life wouldnt be half as much fun. Thank you, sir, for everything.

My gratitude and love also goes to Victoria Barnsley, Jonathan Lovekin, Allan Jenkins, Ruaridh Nicoll, Gareth Grundy, Michelle Kane, Georgia Mason, Olly Rowse, Jane Middleton, Annie Lee, David Pearson, Gary Simpson, Araminta Whitley, Rosemary Scoular, Sophie Hughes, Richard Stepney at Fourth Floor, Rob Watson, and everyone at ph9, and Dalton Wong and George Ashwell at Twenty Two Training. Thank you too to Jenny Zarins for allowing us to use her thoughtful portrait of me. And a big shout-out to everyone at the Observer and all my followers on Twitter @nigelslater. Thank you one and all.

Sometimes we cook purely for the pleasure of it, understanding the provenance of our ingredients, choosing them with great care, thoughtfully taking them on the journey from shop to plate. We seek out the perfect recipe and take our time, lovingly preparing our dinner from scratch. There are times when we might want to take the whole business even more seriously, meeting those who produced it or, if we have the space, growing some of it for ourselves. We want to consider it, discuss it, perhaps even write about it and photograph it.

But sometimes, we just want to eat.

This little book is for those times. The days when we have barely an hour to cook. The times we just want something delicious on a plate at the end of our working day. Yes, we can phone for a pizza or for Chinese or Indian takeout. We can drop by that Vietnamese place on the way home or pick up a ready-made microwavable delight from the supermarket. But as much as I enjoy the odd take-out meal, I have always found dinner is more life-enhancing when I have done more than open a box or pick up the phone. There is much pleasure in making dinner at home when we have cooked something, however quickly, for ourselves or for someone else. That is why I have written this book and why its subtitle is The Little Book of Fast Food . A collection of recipes, most of which you can have on the table in less than an hour.

By fast I do not mean thoughtless or careless. There is great joy to be had in a perfectly cooked steak, its fat crisping lightly on the grill; a single fillet of spanking-fresh fish singing to itself, quietly, in butter; a baked potato whose flesh has been mashed and freckled with rust-red, fat-peppered chorizo. Simple things, done well. Go up a notch and there is a thin, gold-and-white frittata of goat cheese; a light chicken rag with thyme and green onion; or a broth made with pork ribs and dark stars of anise. Even at its most complex, a Thai vegetable curry is made in minutes once you have pureed the lemongrass, ginger, chiles, garlic, and cilantro to a yellow-green paste in the food processor. Making yourself and others something good to eat can be so little trouble and so much pleasure. And much more satisfying than coming home to a meal in a box.

Twenty-one years ago, I wrote my first book, Real Fast Food , a collection of ideas and recipes for something to eat that you could get on the table within half an hour or so. Still in print, it is a book of which I am very fond and I wish it well, but looking at those 350 or so recipes twenty years on, I realize how much our everyday eating has changed. How once unusual ingredients are now accessible in every supermarket; how our recipes are more adventurous; the way fresh ingredients are now essential and once frowned-upon shortcuts are now used without apology. Real Fast Food is still relevant, but our eating has moved on. What seemed new and interesting two decades ago is now everyday. The speeded-up variations of well-known classics still stand, but there are several recipes that now seem somewhat naive, others that are no longer to my taste (we move on), and, if truth be told, there are one or two that should probably never have been there in the first place.