I am an inveterate list-maker, and my kitchen and desk are always littered with scrawled-on post-its and random bits of paper with itemised injunctions to self, on top of which there’s the agglomeration of notes and endless ringing reminders on my phone. And I’m always fascinated to read other people’s lists, too. So I enjoy what I think of as Books of the Year season, and did consider compiling a cookbook round-up for you today. But then I realised it would add nothing new or helpful, since a shimmy through this year’s CookbookCorner entries will show you exactly which cookbooks I particularly prized throughout 2025 and why, so you can decide which you’d most like to get or give this Christmas.
Still, this is the last CookbookCorner of 2025, the festivities are about to get into full swing, and – at time of writing – we are a frantic fortnight away from the Big Day itself, so it seemed only right to bring glad tidings of cookbooks to help you celebrate the season. First up has to be The Christmas Companion by Skye McAlpine. Her books are always beautiful, and this one may be the most beautiful yet. Although it could at first unfocussed glance be mistaken for a gleamy-dreamy aspirational lifestyle manual, anyone familiar with McAlpine’s work knows that her recipes are solid – that’s to say, as reliable as they are deliciously do-able. I love the way she mixes the inspirational with the practical, and feel cheered by that particular British-Italian sensibility of hers that brings easy glamour even to those traditions we’ve long taken for granted, as well as encouraging us to venture beyond them. Naturally, any Christmas cookbook will include a number of recipes that require a bit of a splurge or special attention – this is the time, after all, when people do want to push the boat out – but there’s so much that’s elegantly low-key, too. Whether you want to go fancy or resolutely unfussy (or something inbetween) you can find it within these 350-plus pages. I’ve gone on for far too long as it is, and I’ve got another four books to tell you about, but before we move on, I just want to alert you in brisk fashion to some of the recipes I’ve earmarked: Sticky Marzipan Breakfast Buns; Gorgonzola-Walnut Panettone Crostini; Chestnut Martini; Beetroot and Horseradish Galette; Cheesy Fondue Roast Potato Bake; Wild Rice, Lentil, Chestnut and Pomegranate Salad; Red Cabbage, Feta, Hazelnut and Mint Salad; Egg Nog Cream Pie; Gingerbread, Cranberry and Zabaione Trifle; and, an alternative to trad Brandy butter, her Boozy Amaretto Butter. I can’t claim my shortlist manages to convey the range and scope of the book; it can’t help but be a reflection of my predilections and palate. Accordingly, the recipe I’m delighted to be sharing with you today is the Pomegranate Campari Jelly.
Talking of predilections and palate, The German Christmas Cookbook by Jürgen Krauss could scarcely be more up my Strasse. I am always drawn to German cooking and there’s not enough of it about for my tastes. Unfashionable it may be (not that I care) and underestimated it certainly is (which I do mind) but even if you do not happen to share my pronounced enthusiasm, or know it only by reputation and not from actual eating experience, you do need to know that there are two realms in particular at which the Germans excel: one is baking; the other Christmas; a book which combines both makes this a festive must-have for me. Its remit takes in both sweet and savoury, and while I have been wallowing so very happily in the sturdy comforts of Semolina Dumpling Soup (Grießklößchen-Suppe), Gammon in a Bread Crust (Schinken im Brotteig), Sauerkraut and Spätzle, it is the sweeter side of things that gets the most festive focus, and once you have this gorgeous book in your hands you will see why. The biscuit/cookie section alone is an absolute joy. All I can think about really is Hazelnut Macaroons, Cinnamon Stars, Walnut and Coffee Biscuits, Chocolate Pretzels, Marzipan Potatoes, and Honey Gingerbread cookies. Mind you, I’m rather obsessively focussed on the Mulled Wine Cake, Yogurt Stollen, Christmas Apple Pie, and Rye Bread, too. But it’s back to the biscuits as I let you know, with joy in my heart, that the recipe I’ve chosen to share with you from this seasonal and celebratory book is these meltingly tender Vanilla Crescents.
It stands to reason that at Christmas we turn to books written by those we know we can trust, to those cooks whose familiar, dependable presence offers instant reassurance, combining the unswerving support of an old friend and the confidence-boosting encouragement of a favourite teacher. And this is most definitely where Rick Stein comes in! Rick Stein’s Christmas is a mix of old and new, cosy and elegant, deluxe and down-home. But this is not just a compendium of recipes: popping up here and there throughout these 300-odd pages are his notes and observations, his voice that comforting rumbling burble (and I mean that admiringly!) which always makes me smile. Stein covers all the seasonal bases in this book, but it also offers itself as a rich source of recipes for throughout the year. I’m looking at you, Korean Prawn Fritters with Soy, Cider Vinegar & Chilli; and you, Maryland Crab Cakes with Tarragon Butter Sauce; also, Smoked Haddock & Mussel Chowder; a swoon-inducing Poached Lobster Risotto; Pot-Roast Chicken with Pearl Barley & Stuffing Balls; Duck Confit with Braised Red Cabbage; plus Peppered Steak, Lentil & Rocket Salad. But I return to Christmas itself for the recipe I just had to share with you today – that’s to say, with Boxing Day very much in mind, I excitedly bring you the blessing of his Turkey, Ham, Gruyère & Kimchi Monte Cristo Sandwich. How could I not?
I have two further books to wave in front of you today, and while neither are specifically Christmas cookbooks, they most certainly belong in any seasonal shortlist. Actually, for all that Amber Guinness’s Winter in Tuscany appears here as the penultimate title for your consideration, I feel it deserves to be placed front and centre, indeed in (North) Pole Position, whether you’re looking for a glorious present for others, or simply in terms of its pleasure-potential in and of itself. I usually shy away from coffee-table-sized cookbooks, finding them unwieldy in the kitchen, and too often embracing a style-over-content approach to begin with, making them lookers rather than cookers. Not this one! Yes, Winter in Tuscany is an undeniably beautiful book, and gorgeously moody photographs dominate many of its pages, but it’s the recipes that stole my heart. Amber Guinness grew up in the Sienese countryside and now lives in Florence: she knows this robust Tuscan food; it's in her bones, and it shows. I love them all, so it’s hard to restrict myself to a measly shortlist for you, but I’ll try. So here goes: Fennel in Lemony Anchovy Sauce; Fusilioni (ie, giant fusilli, or else pappardelle) Pasta with Cavolo Nero, Walnut & Pecorino Pesto; Orecchiette with Brussels Sprouts & Pancetta; Chestnut & Mushroom ‘Peposo’, a wine-rich, peppery stew; Radicchio, Gorgonzola & Walnut Lasagne; Sausage, Lentil & Chickpea Stew; Tuscan Roast Potatoes; and Florentine Apple ‘Pancake’ Cake. I could have picked any of these to share with you today, but in the end I just couldn’t turn away from the cosy promise of the Etruscan Chestnut & Chickpea Soup, less dramatically photogenic than other possible choices, but utterly compelling, and just what I want to be eating now and, indeed, all winter long. I know the recipe uses canned or jarred chickpeas, which is great when you’re in a hurry but, a bit of an old-school hold-out in this regard, I’ve set some dried ones a-soaking for this, and am enjoying the greedy anticipation.
Winter in the Highlands by Flora Sheddon completes this seasonal selection. It’s not in any sense a traditional Scottish cookbook, but one packed with recipes to warm body and soul. I‘m talking about Onion Soup; Sausage Meatballs with Mustard Mash; Almond Nougat; Fig and Hazelnut Crumble Mince Pies; Ginger Margarita; Marsala and Shallot Gravy; Orzo and Turkey Broth; Turkey Pie; a no-churn Sherry and Raisin Ice Cream; and “The Auld Alliance, in culinary form”, Neep Boulangère, a most enticing creamy swede/rutabaga gratin, with carrots, potatoes and onions thrown in! I so nearly picked that last one to share with you today, but in the end her Baked Bread Sauce just insisted on being chosen instead. While I’ll never veer from My Mother’s Bread Sauce for the great feast on the 25th itself, I am most definitely going to make this to accompany those many slices cut from any leftover Christmas ham on the days that follow.
And on that note, CookbookCorner takes a well-earned break until the 8th of January, but I hope this handful of festive recipes helps to make your Christmas even more delicious than ever!
