How making dinner brought me joy

a years after my last cookbook, East, came out, I told my editor I wanted to write another one. But then I had a baby and a breakdown, and things were put on pause while I fell apart and laboriously put myself back together again (in a much better, stronger way – that’s what breakdowns are great for).

One of the most baffling things that happened was that I lost my love for food, both cooking and eating. But cooking was how I made a living, fed my family, and traveled the world. I knew I had to find a way back, and quickly.

I took a break from my Guardian column, not knowing if that break would be indefinite, and then, after many months, something wonderful started to happen.

I set myself the task of cooking a simple dinner every now and then, with the only criteria being that I had to let my stomach guide me – it had to be something I really wanted to eat or cook. If it was good, I wrote it down in my orange notebook. The orange notebook slowly filled up. And slowly I started to feel the life in my bones and the hunger in my stomach. I realized the power this simple act of cooking and eating with my friends and family had in my life.

Four years later, I’m finally ready and extremely proud to share my next cookbook with the world, an expanded version of my own orange notebook – Dinner: 120 Vegan and Vegetarian Recipes for the Most Important Meal of the Day. (It’s coming out in August and that’s possible Pre-order it now.)

It’s also my most personal book yet, with stories, essays and, unnervingly, photos of the inside of my cupboard and refrigerator (spoiler alert: lots of vegetables).

It’s my most useful book yet, because I’ve given up snacks, small dishes, appetizers, and drinks in favor of things you can put on the table and call a good meal (pictured at top, my kimchi and tomato spaghetti). Inside, there are dinners you can make with a wink, a nudge, and a few pantry ingredients, lots of weeknight meals, some slow-cooking stuff for fun, or meals you can prepare in five minutes and pop in the oven. Then there are all the sides you’ll ever need, puddings to write home about and a few extra bits, like pickles and bread, because I just couldn’t help myself.

All recipes are vegan and vegetarian (this is largely how I prefer to eat), many are very simple. You’ll recognize some from my Guardian Feast column, but many are new. Perhaps most importantly, each recipe has played a role in getting me back to a place where I feel good about life.

My week in food

Swimming and sourdough | My basis for a trip to Bristol was Clifton Lido, where you can swim, chat with strangers in the steam room, get smothered for an hour (voluntarily, if you book a massage), and then eat puffy sourdough rolls with any number of vegetables and cheeses whipped into deliciousness. I enjoyed the tomato and goat’s curd and the delica pumpkin caponata that were on the menu this week.

Birthday food requests | Both my husband Hugh and my daughter Arya recently had birthdays. Hugh asked for the chip and dip combo I mention below, followed by my eggplant katsu curry and Delia’s delicious blueberry muffin cake to finish. Arya asked chow mein noodles and my banana cake (above) for afters.

Food TV | I’m going to Brittany later this year and have been looking in preparation Anthony Bourdain eats his way through the region. What I loved most is the passionate stubbornness with which Breton producers refuse to scale up or modernize their machines, for fear of losing the quality they can produce with small volumes and with their hands.

The best combination of crunchy and dip | During a recent chat in the pub, I was excited to hear that a friend had done a rudimentary test with friends (and more) at home to discover that sweet chilli chips with sour cream dip came out trumps. Now I can’t stop eating this combination (thanks, Issy). I also love poppadom chips with Geeta’s mango chutney, but the sweet chilli and sour cream take it down.

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