Most Sunday evenings, Yotam Ottolenghi takes an hour or so to gather his thoughts for the coming week. The 46-year-old chef is the face behind a long-tentacled empire these days: four London delis and one fancier restaurant, Nopi in Soho; he is also increasingly in demand around the world – especially in America and he notes, a little bemused, the Netherlands, where his publisher tells him that one in five households owns an Ottolenghi cookbook. But Sunday nights are mostly set aside for coming up with inspiration for recipes – for his weekly Guardian column (of which he’s written 500-ish), for books (which, with the release of Nopi: The Cookbook last month, now number five) – that he and his team will test, discard, hone and finally sign off over the course of the next few days.
“It was dreadful in the beginning,” recalls Ottolenghi, in his surprisingly rudimentary test kitchen, in a railway arch in Camden, north London. “I’d feel like, ‘I can’t possibly think of 10 new vegetarian recipes to test this week.’ Two weeks in, I was worried I was going to run out of ideas. Then, all of a sudden, it comes much more naturally and easily. As soon as I was not stressed about it, I learned I could do so much with vegetables.”
Ottolenghi’s first vegetable-only book, 2010’s Plenty, has sold more than half a million copies in the UK; last year’s follow-up Plenty More is not quite there yet, but it is OFM’s Cookbook of the Year. It’s not hard to make the case that Ottolenghi has changed the way many of us eat – producers of sumac and za’atar certainly owe him a drink – and he has clearly inspired a new generation of chefs, not least Honey & Co’s Sarit Packer, a former Nopi executive chef, and Anna Jones. Ottolenghi is adamant, though, that this was never his intention when he began the “New Vegetarian” column in 2006, and neither has he much interest in being a figurehead for the movement that encourages meat-free meals as part of a healthier, more sustainable lifestyle. “Noooo,” he says and, famously, Ottolenghi himself is not a vegetarian. “I’m not a very preachy person, so I don’t have a tendency to want to change the way people act or behave. Not out of cynicism, just that’s not my natural thing. I just love vegetables, so I cook vegetables and I feel very comfortable with vegetables. But it’s not because I want the whole world to stop eating meat – that’s not my remit. It’s not how I think.”
If Plenty showed that vegetables could be more than a side or an afterthought, Plenty More set out to prove their versatility as ingredients. The book is divided into cooking techniques: tossed, steamed, grilled, roasted and so on. There are a few new curiosities to scour the internet for (kashk, dakos, black garlic), but Ottolenghi remains mostly faithful to his roots: a “continuum” from north Africa, through the Middle East to South Asia. “I’ve never rolled sushi in my life,” he says, “and, as far as I can see now, I probably won’t.”
Much of Ottolenghi’s inspiration comes from travelling, but, for now, he will remain anchored in London. A couple of years ago – after gushing profiles in the New Yorker and New York Times – an expansion into America appeared possible. It’s a move that Ottolenghi considered, with his business partners, then rejected. “Had I opened a restaurant in New York, or anywhere else in the world, I would have had to pay a really massive personal price,” he says. “And actually I feel now that I’ve got a much more balanced work-home life than I’ve had before.”
Ottolenghi is referring, in part, to becoming a father with his partner Karl Allen. Their first child, Max, was born to a surrogate mother in Massachusetts in 2013; he was joined by a brother, Flynn, this summer. “It’s so much fun spending time with a child, it attracts you back to the home,” says Ottolenghi. “And, of course, every hour you’re here, you’re not at home, so if I leave at 7 o’clock, I won’t see my children.”
He may be the man who convinced the world to savour vegetables, but Ottolenghi is currently finding it harder with Max, now two and a half. Peas and broccoli are just about acceptable, but tomatoes and any leaves are unceremoniously sent straight back to the kitchen. The chef remains unperturbed. “I never insist on him eating what I prepare,” he says, with a resigned smile. “Most of the time he does, but 20-30% he goes, ‘I don’t want to eat it, Dad.’ So I say, ‘OK.’ I try not to engage in fights over food, because I’m the one who’s going to lose. That’s pretty sure.”
Yotam Ottolenghi’s caramelised fig, orange and feta salad from Plenty More
Working with caramel may seem intimidating but don’t worry: the juicy fruit will be fine even if the caramel is slightly crystallised or lumpy. It won’t be thanking you, though, if the caramel burns, so you need to work fast when the caramel reaches the desired colour and not to worry if you add the fruit before all of the sugar has melted.
Serves 4
caster sugar 100g
fresh figs 16 (530g), cut in half lengthways
oranges 4 medium (750g), topped and tailed, peeled and cut into 1cm-thick rounds
lemon juice 2 tbsp
raki, Pernod or another aniseed-flavoured liqueur 1½ tbsp
aniseed or fennel seeds 1 tsp, lightly toasted
garlic clove 1, crushed
olive oil 80ml
feta 200g, crumbled into 1cm chunks
oregano 1 tbsp, small leaves whole and larger ones chopped
rocket 60g
coarse sea salt and black pepper
Place a large frying pan on a medium heat and add half the sugar. Leave for 2-3 minutes, or until it turns a golden caramel colour; don’t stir the sugar. Once nice and golden, add half the figs, cut-side down. Cook for 2 minutes until softening, then turn to cook for a further minute. Remove from the pan and add the second batch of figs and repeat the process. You might need to add a tablespoon or two of water to the pan if the figs aren’t very juicy.
Add the remaining sugar to the pan, return to the heat and let it start to caramelise before adding the oranges and leaving for 1 minute on each side. They should take on a rich caramel colour. Remove and add to the figs.
Take the caramel off the heat and whisk in the lemon juice, alcohol, aniseed or fennel seeds, garlic, ¾ teaspoon of salt and a generous grind of black pepper. Once combined, whisk in the olive oil and set aside.
Arrange the oranges and figs on a large platter and dot with the feta. Drizzle over any juices left on the fruit plate, followed by the dressing. Sprinkle with the oregano and rocket and serve.
Extracted from Plenty More by Yotam Ottolenghi (Ebury Press, £27). Click here to order a copy for £17 from the Guardian Bookshop
