Kitty Coles speaks to Ottolenghi cooks, Helen Goh and Tara Wigley…
One of the first things I cooked when I moved to Dublin was meatballs. Bread soaked in milk, mixed with mince, a generous grating of Parmesan, and herbs, then fried until golden brown and simmered in a rich tomato sauce. Just thinking about it is making me salivate. My mum makes a huge batch of these around Christmas for my endless cousins, aunts, and uncles (about 50-60 of us), and both the making and eating of them brings me so much comfort. A roast chicken comes in a close second, of course. I have lived in ten houses in the last four years; the kitchen is always my most comfortable room. No matter where I am, cooking always means the same thing.
Comfort feels like it means more to me than ever before, now that I am living in a new country, city, and house. Comfort is home and familiarity so I’ve been craving simple pleasures – seeing friends on a whim, visiting a favourite restaurant or coffee shop, having cups of tea with family by the fire, or shopping at my local greengrocer. I’m out of my comfort zone here, so I’m cooking to help me feel at home.
I visited my sister Dora after a big catering event recently and, in the car, called her to put a jacket potato in the oven. After cooking for 100 people with barely any time to eat or sit down, a jacket potato was exactly what I needed that day. Pure, simple, comforting food – and to Dora’s delight, easy to cook. Dora, despite the efforts of my parents, hasn’t taken to cooking like my other sister, Lily, and I – sorry Dora, but it’s true!
Helen Goh and Yotam Ottolenghi
But this month isn’t about me. With the release of Ottolenghi’s newest cookbook, Comfort, I sat down with two of his co-authors, Tara Wigley and Helen Goh, to discuss what comfort means to them and why this cookbook might be different from what you’d expect.I admire Yotam for celebrating his co-writers, instead of keeping them in the shadows like others. As a ghostwriter myself, I’ve worked on a few well-known cookbooks, but you’d never know (nor should you!). Tara, Helen, and Verena [Lochmuller], however, have their names all over the book and are doing the press for it. Clever, really, as there are four of them to share the load instead of just one. Two (or four) heads are better than one, after all.
Yotam, Helen, Verena, and Tara (the “Four Hungries”), each bring their own cultural and personal ideas of comfort. Helen’s comfort stretches from China and Malaysia to Melbourne and West London. Yotam’s takes in Italy, Germany, Jerusalem, Amsterdam, and London. Verena’s spans Germany, Scotland, New York, and now London, while Tara’s journey runs from Khartoum to London, with stops in Barcelona and Sarajevo along the way.
If you Google “comfort food” in Ireland or the UK, you’ll likely see a line-up of high-calorie dishes like mac and cheese, pizza, beef stew, lasagne, instant ramen, cheesy potatoes, creamy pastas, or sticky toffee pudding. But in Comfort, you won’t find many of these – or at least not the recognisable versions. There are still roast chickens, pancakes, cheesy bread, and bolognese but each with something unexpected in the recipe like curry leaf dukkah or unfamiliar spices. A very Ottolenghi approach.
I asked Helen and Tara to choose a recipe from the book they’d like to eat on the wet and cold Tuesday that we meet. Helen’s pick is the poached chicken congee: rice simmered in chicken stock, served with poached chicken and an assortment of toppings like bean sprouts, coriander, white pepper, and crispy onions. “This is comfort food by so many measures – the soothing texture of the chicken and porridge, chicken soup for the soul, bowl food eaten with a spoon or chopsticks. It’s the sort of food we eat when we need something soothing and convivial, and it’s a dish that takes me straight back home,” Helen explains. For Tara, it’s the roasted aubergine, red pepper, and tomato soup from the book. When developing this recipe, she started with the thought of Heinz tomato soup – the one thing many of us associate with being unwell or in need of comfort. “The link between the tin can and comfort is strong,” says Tara. This version is arguably more nourishing than the original tin and takes flavours from a Catalonian dish, escalivada, with toasted almonds and sherry vinegar to finish.
Tara Wigley
“These recipes aren’t just our favourites for flavour but because they combine nostalgia and novelty. With every recipe in the book, there is longing for home and the person who cooked for us,” says Tara. That’s what Tara, Helen, and I all have in common – we love to cook for people to give them comfort, which in turn makes us feel good. Being cooked for, or cooking for others, has a huge impact on what we consider comfort food.
I had to ask Tara and Helen what they really eat at home when they’re alone, in their pyjamas, cooking just for themselves. For Helen, it’s “microwaved jasmine rice with fried egg, lup cheong sausage, and chilli crisp”. While Tara says: “I love piling food into a great big romaine lettuce leaf and eating it by hand – with cubes of salty feta and walnuts. And then dark chocolate dipped in tahini for dessert.” Both quite chic, I thought. No frozen pizzas here.
At the core of Comfort is the idea that what we crave changes depending on where we are and who we’re with. Sometimes it’s a jacket potato, and other times it’s cool noodles in the summer heat. It’s all about those moments where the right dish at the right time just feels like home. In the end, it’s more than just recipes – it’s about those familiar flavours that ground you, no matter where you are in the world. And before you ask, as many have on their book tour – there are no air fryer recipes!
SEE RECIPES
From Ottolenghi COMFORT by Yotam Ottolenghi, Helen Goh, Verena Lochmuller and Tara Wigley (Ebury Press, £30). All photography by Jonathan Lovekin.