Lucky dip - a surprise author

My heart sank a bit when I picked out this book. I can't even remember why I bought it. Possibly I was desperate to find something new to do with pasta for my sons who were living at home. And the recipes - there were two to choose from, were not, at least superficially, all that inspiring. I also did not know the author. But this is when it started to get more interesting, although nothing to do with food.

The author, as you can see, is Lizzie Spender, and I have to say it did ring a bell. Well this is why. Back when I bought this book (it was published in 1987) she was a minor actress. More interesting though is that she is the daughter of Stephen Spender, who back then was a famous British poet. And somehow connected with he aristocracy, or at least moving in those circles. A Sloane Ranger probably.

A few years after this book was published though she married Barrie Humphries (1990) and I believe is indeed, still married to him. Which, considering she is his fourth wife is probably a bit of a surprise. I gather that she now writes rather than acts and has written three books on pasta plus some television series scripts that have been well received. So there you go - a somewhat unexpected author. A sort of literary society lady.

I'm not really sure why I still have this book. Its recipes are not all that great or original, though one of the two on this page is somewhat weird. Suffice to say that I don't think her name will go down in history as the author of books on pasta.

It's also a very impersonal book. There is not much of a glimpse into the personality of the author, or even why she is so fixated on pasta. No lengthy introduction that waxes lyrical on the Italians and pasta. Each recipe, to be sure does have a brief introduction, but it's mostly practical.

And did I say that the book is not illustrated - it's another one of those early paperbacks with just line drawings like this one, which prefaces the chapter I chose.

The first recipe is not even hers. It's the recipe of a friend - one Frank McEvitt and she calls it McEvitt's bows with meat sauce. She seems to like bows - or the book publishers do, as they feature in the artwork, but then I guess they are pretty.

She does say one mildly interesting thing at the head of this recipe though:

"men make the most marvellous cooks once they conquer their initial fear of the kitchen."

And she does have a point - on the domestic front anyway. Men traditionally do not cook at home, with the exception of the barbecue which is a very blokey thing. I suspect this is changing today - I know that both of my sons cook and seem to enjoy it moreover. Alas I don't think they really got this from me. I wasn't a very patient teacher, and they didn't show a heap of interest way back then. But I guess that's what living on your own does for you. Nevertheless when it comes to the professionals the vast majority are men. There are not really all that many world famous women chefs or even cookbook writers, though interestingly there are a few more of them.

But back to the recipe itself. It's a very simple recipe just minced beef or veal flavoured with chill, and the inevitable onions and garlic and then cooked with white wine, finished with cream and parsley. The sort of dish that we might all whip up on occasion. Somehow not that inspiring though.

The other recipe is hers and she calls it Rigatoni with spicy meat and chicken liver ragú. It's weird because it's got a bit of everything in there, and I'm not sure that they would all work together, but then again maybe they would. But honestly - garam masala, carrot, minced beef, chicken livers, chilli, red wine, cream, chicken stock, bay leaves and parmesan!? Sounds like somebody throwing in everything she could find and hoping for the best. I mean curry and parmesan, because that's what you have here isn't it? I know I have a tendency to throw in too many things, but I do think this is over the top. But maybe I'm wrong. Maybe it's a taste sensation.

Unsurprisingly there are no pictures on the web of these two dishes. Nobody has picked them out and either paid homage or made their own version. I think this book is for the op shop.

Just goes to show there's always something to ponder on in a lucky dip.