The best books for food and drink lovers this Christmas

The Delicacy

by James Albon
£19.50, Top Shelf Productions
Best for: Jaded foodies

This superb graphic novel begins on a remote Scottish island, where brothers Rowan and Tulip have been brought up to disdain technology, money, and just about anything connected to the modern world. A chance inheritance of a house in the south means they can realise their dream of setting up a restaurant, with the gifted Tulip cooking and the green-fingered Rowan in the garden. ‘We’ll bring wholesome food to the starving millions,’ Tulip gushes. So excellent are Rowan’s vegetables (especially some mysteriously delicious mushrooms) and so brilliant is Tulip (now calling himself Danny) in the kitchen that their tiny corner bistro has soon turned an unfashionable part of London into a destination. So begins this Faustian tale, James Albon’s glorious colour palette contrasting the darkness and horror that lies in store for the over-ambitious Danny and his conscience-stricken but inadequate brother.

The story unfolds inexorably: there are some memorably grim moments as Danny sells his soul in exchange for worldly success and the adoration of the fickle public. Albon’s artwork is razor-sharp, his observations of kitchen life (‘Karl: recently paroled, worked in the prison kitchen, can make 300 omelettes in two hours, not sure what sautéeing is’) or gruesome gastronomati (‘Danny, dude, I checked out of rehab just to eat here,’ one tattooed ghoul says) equally acute. Delicacy is a cautionary tale for our times. I read it in one sitting, and I doubt I’ll touch mushrooms again unless I’m very sure of their provenance. (Adam Lechmere)

Oz Clarke on Wine: Your Global Wine Companion

by Oz Clarke
£30, Academie du Vin Library
Best for: Lovers of a good yarn

As an editor, whenever I’ve wanted to commission Oz Clarke to write an article, I’ve found the best approach is to arrange a meeting in a convivial spot, bring a Dictaphone, and simply allow him to talk. I then go away and transcribe the chat, trim out the gossip, defamatory statements and swear words, and hey presto, I’ve generally got the best article I’ll publish all year.

I’m not sure if that was the approach of the editors at Academie du Vin Library in this wide-ranging work, but the tome certainly has a conversational feel. The length and span of topics also suggests that Clarke was given free rein (editing him down is always the hardest part, such is his depth of knowledge and generosity of spirit). The book is actually a revised version of the previously published Red & White, with new material on the topical issues of the day. It is, to say the least, all encompassing – sprawling, even – covering off all the major (and some minor) wine regions and grape varieties, and tackling plenty of adjacent topics, too.

But so fast-paced and congenial is the text that it’s a breeze to read. Short, snappy sentences, suffused with lightly worn knowledge mean that before you know it, you’ve taken on board insights into biodynamic viticulture and the indigenous grape varieties of Greece without feeling like you’ve had to concentrate too hard. There’s a lovely balance of opinion and reflection, all interwoven with personal insights, anecdotes and opinion. Long a pioneer, Clarke isn’t afraid to tackle thorny issues – a section devoted to the impact of climate change is alarming but practical.

The amateur photos on the inside covers, from various stages of his career and even childhood and student days, mirror the personal nature of the text. More pictures would have been nice, and indeed the overall layout is basic at best. But this is not a biography (now, that will be fun) – just a comprehensive overview of the wine world told in a highly personal – and entertaining – manner. (Guy Woodward)

A Cheesemonger’s Compendium of British & Irish Cheese

by Ned Palmer
£14.99, Profile Books
Best for: Anyone who thinks they know their British cheese

Palmer’s hugely engaging book A Cheesemonger’s History of the British Isles, tracing Britain’s past through cheese, was a surprise bestseller in 2019, and this is its slightly geekier successor. It lists an impressive 158 British and Irish cheeses divided by style, of which there’s a useful explanation at the beginning of each chapter. I count myself something of a cheese expert and still came across many I’d never heard of including Angigiddy, Renegade Monk and Westray Wife, as well as some hitherto unknown facts about some of my current favourites, Baron Bigod (made in a style that was declared the ‘King of Cheeses’ at the Congress of Vienna in 1815), Ogleshield and Darling, a delicious blue named after Grace Darling, the lighthouse-keeper’s daughter who saved the survivors of a shipwreck off the Northumbrian coast.

Despite his scholarly mastery of his subject, Palmer wears his learning lightly, and his tasting notes are an art form in themselves: a mature Berkswell is ‘savoury caramelised lamb and a hint of rosewater’, Stichelton is ‘sweet like Hubba Bubba bubblegum, malty like Shreddies and savoury like Marmite’, or Old Winchester with its ‘enticing aroma of sweet buttered popcorn’. There’s also a lovely series of essential maps at the end of the book, which shows where you can find all the cheeses found within the book’s pages. (Fiona Beckett)

The Philosophy Of Whisky

by Billy Abbott
£10, The British Library
Best for: The serious whisky lover

There are as many books about whisky as there are distilleries in the world, and – much like single-malt Scotch – there are few bad ones. The bar is high, and it’s difficult to make a dent in such a vast canon (especially on your debut), but Billy Abbott does that.

The Philosophy of Whisky takes the reader on a journey through the basics of the spirit, its history, its production, its cultural impact across American and Irish whiskey, through to Scotch, Japanese and world whiskies. Abbott is a veteran blogger, both for major online retailer The Whisky Exchange and for his personal outlet, Spirited Matters. His writing – informative, authoritative and witty – should appeal to most.

This is not a book that relies on full-colour illustrations to make its point. There are a few black-and-white photographs, and at 100 pages it’s very compact. Abbott’s writing is so full of colour that it doesn’t require glossy sideshows. He has a good store of one-liners: on the subject of who invented whisky, the Scots or the Irish, Abbott writes: ‘I find the easiest way to get people from Ireland and Scotland to come to an agreement on the subject is to suggest that the English invented whisky – the resounding “No” this statement elicits is about as close as we’ll get.’

At its heart, this is one man’s love letter to whisky, and one that everyone and anyone who shares Abbott’s passion should read. If you haven’t fallen in love with whisky yet, this might convince you otherwise. (Joel Harrison)

Fizz! Champagne and Sparkling Wines of the World

by Anthony Rose
£35 paperback; £24 Kindle, The Infinite Ideas Classic Wine Library
Best for: Students of anything sparkling

Every publisher – of whatever stamp – is constantly looking for novelty: the eye-catching title, the arresting new angle. Amid the slew of groovy covers and new voices and fresh takes on time-worn subjects, sometimes it’s the classic approach that demands your attention. Anthony Rose, who has been writing about wine since the late 1980s (he’s an expert of sake among other things), has produced a textbook on sparkling wine that is as densely informative as a leather-bound Victorian treatise on crop rotation. This is not to detract from its merits: Fizz! is readable as well as authoritative.

The first few chapters sparkle with historical anecdote, such as the Victorian wine merchant who ‘heard it alleged of the Russians that they keep their windows open when they have a party in order that those in and out of the house may hear the reports of the Champagne bottles, and so become duly impressed by the style of the entertainment’, or (less edifyingly) the fact that during the Dreyfus affair a ‘Champagne Anti-Juif’ was created. Rose takes fizz seriously, from the science of bubbles (he quotes Gérard Liger-Belair, professor of physical sciences at the University of Reims, extensively) to the crown cap (there’s a cross-section detailing its constituent parts). The bulk of the book is a useful gazetteer of sparkling wine-producing regions and their producers, and glossary, appendices and index are comprehensive (nothing shows a book’s serious intent so much as the index, which here runs to 20 pages). This is an academic book which will be of huge value to a student and will please the completist. (Adam Lechmere)

Bourdain in Stories

by Laurie Woolever
£20, Bloomsbury
Best for: Those for whom Bourdain never died

Anthony Bourdain was early for everything. Despite his carefully-nurtured rock star image, he would turn up 30 minutes ahead of schedule for meetings. That’s just one surprising, shared snapshot of the late chef-turned-author/documentary maker in this twist on the biography. It’s been pieced together by Laurie Woolever, Bourdain’s long-time assistant, who has interviewed almost 100 of those closest to the Parts Unknown star.

It’s nice to think that Bourdain – a publisher of some more experimental titles in his later years – would have approved of this refreshing, oral history format. It’s a clever way of profiling such an enigmatic man. Almost all tell of an awkward, shy and introverted character behind that larger-than-life on-screen persona.

Kitchen Confidential fans will get a kick out of first-person accounts from the chefs behind the pseudonyms of the book that catapulted Bourdain to fame. Those who traced his travels will enjoy recollections from the film crew. Former collaborators Eric Ripert, David Chang, Roy Choi and Nigella Lawson are among those from the food world offering astute observations – all edited into chapters that mostly follow the chronology of his life.

The narrative flow unravels towards the end as Bourdain enters deeper into depression. At points, it feels as if his nearest and dearest are still searching for answers they’ll never find. One thing they all agree on, though, is his brilliance. As with that signature punctuality, all attest that Anthony Bourdain was a raconteur ahead of his time. (Laura Richards)

On California From Napa to Nebbiolo…Wine Tales from the Golden State

£30, Academie du Vin Library
Best for: California dreamers

What a delight this book is. The 13^th volume in the Academie du Vin Library, an imprint which isn’t yet three years old, is a historical compilation of essays and articles on California, from Harry Waugh to Randall Grahm and beyond. A disclaimer: AdVL is a sister company to Club Oenologique and IWSC, and one of my articles is in it. I don’t include that one in the ‘delight’ encomium, but otherwise, as Warren Winiarski says in his preface, this is a ‘lyrical array’ of fine writing.

Wine can be a crushingly boring subject, but not in the hands of the likes of Waugh and Grahm (whose erudite footnotes fill a good third of almost every page), Hugh Johnson, Jon Bonné, the excellent Esther Mobley, Oz Clarke and many more. Each brings the subject to life, whether it’s Karen McNeil describing the missing thumb of a vineyard foreman, Kelli White noting that the Victorian boffin Eugene Woldemar Hilgard was taught by the chap who invented the Bunsen burner (although ‘Bunsen’ is spelt wrong), or Johnson’s miniature portraits of the great wine regions: ‘Burgundy, already chilly by harvest time’. Napa isn’t allowed to dominate – there’s much on Paris 1976, obviously, but you can bypass that; Sonoma, Edna Valley, Santa Ynez and all California points in between are covered. There’s a good index (all too rare nowadays) and the whole book is nicely produced. If you know a wine lover, there’s your Christmas present sorted. (Adam Lechmere)

Rare Whisky: Exploring The World’s most Exquisite Spirits

by Patrick Mahé
£45, Octopus Books
Best for: Globe-trotting whisky aficionados

Patrick Mahé offers an insightful take on the extreme end of the whisky market, a place where individual bottles can cost the same as a small car or a family house. This is a book that – like so many others of this size and weight – should be a simple showpiece item. The format would have made it easy to simply provide mouth-watering photography of some of the most unobtainable whiskies ever released. Yes, there are details on bottlings that fetch incredible sums at auction, but there are great stories peppered throughout, too, as well as recommendations on what to read and where to drink, and focused articles on individual bottles and brands.

The author’s passion for his subject is evident: in his quest to enhance the subject-matter he cites sources as eclectic as French 17th-century philosopher Blaise Pascal, or Hollywood movie Lost In Translation. Where it would be easy to focus on the headline-grabbing prices of Scotch or Japanese malts, he is even-handed in exploring whiskies from India, Taiwan, Australia and other emerging markets, as well as blends and standard releases. Scotch whiskies distilled in the early and middle parts of the last century, such as the legendary Macallan 1926 and Bowmore from 1964 are covered, through to modern-day releases from the likes of Australia’s Bakery Hill distillery or Danish newcomer Stauning. (Joel Harrison)