Review: More from a Quiet Kitchen, by Nici Wickes
Reviewed by Lucy Corry
‘Lifestyle’ cookbooks often follow a predictable pattern. I like to imagine they’re designed on a one-size-fits-all template, where publishing executives tick off requirements like having shots of the named author in a bikini, frolicking with a cute pet, holding the hands of perfectly dressed children, looking moody and thoughtful in a field (note, not a paddock) of long grass. Make my kale smoothie, the subtext goes, and you too will look as picture-perfect as they will.
On the face of it, Nici Wickes’ new book, More from A Quiet Kitchen, falls neatly into this genre. What sets it apart, however, is the integrity and ‘realness’ of its author.
Wickes was already well-known to many as the food editor of the NZ Women’s Weekly magazine prior to its Covid 19-related demise in 2020. During lockdown times, the suddenly-unemployed Wickes cemented her status as a national treasure by starting an ongoing series of deliciously authentic social media videos. In an online world where everything is styled and scripted, Wickes’ free-form, self-filmed cooking clips were as unexpectedly joyful as they were practical.
Her 2022 book, ‘A Quiet Kitchen’, told the story of how she ended up living in a tiny bach in the seaside community of Port Waikato, and how she’d realised that living alone (and cooking for herself) was something to savour.
‘More from A Quiet Kitchen’ has a similar vibe, as Wickes describes how she had to ‘buck up your little pony’ and cope with the turmoil of Cyclone Gabrielle, a nasty bout of Covid and a general loss of zest for life.
Cooking, or “the clatter of cockles, the sizzle of bacon, the blipblap of something simmering”, is an essential ingredient in her recipe for a contented life. Why rush to be ‘perfect’, Wickes asks, when you can find happiness in pottering along and being ‘good enough’? She writes movingly (and frequently entertainingly) about managing the storms of life on her own, dispensing some wise life advice along with cooking tips.
If this sounds all a bit too kum-bay-ah, be assured that ‘More from a Quiet Kitchen’ is still first and foremost a recipe book - and the recipes are practical, comforting and well-conceived. Crucially, most of the time they’re designed to serve one, or perhaps two, except in the case of most of the desserts (I cannot wait to make the ‘Lemon cheesecakey cake’). This is important, because as Wickes says, “There’s nothing, NOTHING, sad about cooking for one”. Don’t let this put you off if you cook for a bigger household - if my School Certificate maths skills can handle doubling or tripling a recipe, yours will be too.
Recipes are grouped thematically, rather than by course or ingredient. This might confound traditional cookbook readers, but to me it has its own beautiful, individual logic (and there’s always the index if you want to search in a more structured way). For example, a delightful chapter tackling the stigma of solo dining out (Wickes is a fan, but has some useful advice for those who “find it alarming to even contemplate”) includes recipes inspired by her favourite tables for one - a Parisian bistro, a busy Ponsonby restaurant, a seaside eatery.
A section that encourages readers, especially women, to be financially savvy, has recipes that are mindful of food costs, but not miserly. It’s a neat nod to the times we’re currently living in.
While Wickes’ warm, personable writing sparkles on the page, the book is truly enlivened by Todd Eyre’s photography. The pair are long-time collaborators and it shows; the food photography is unfussy and not over-styled, ditto the portraits of Wickes in her kitchen, or at the beach.
A week or so before ‘More from A Quiet Kitchen’ came out, Wickes posted a video on her Instagram, explaining that she felt a bit low and was having to force herself to take her daily dip in the sea. Watching her come out of the water, bursting with happiness, was the best thing I saw on the internet that week. ‘More from A Quiet Kitchen’ has the same vibe. If you’re a mid-life woman who has lost your appetite for life, it might just be the tonic you’re looking for.
Reviewed by Lucy Corry
Lucy Corry is a Wellington journalist and food writer.