Nick Frost has lit up our screens for decades with his perfectly observed, just-the-right-side-of-absurd sketches and films. He's also a keen, self-taught cook: so keen, in fact, that in lockdown, he personally delivered pies to his Instagram followers. This book is his love letter to food, to kitchens and the people in them. Nick's favourite thing to eat aged 10 was his mother's stroganoff and as her alcoholism worsened, he began to learn to cook it himself, gradually taking over and using it as a magic trick to conjure up the very best bits of her - the stable, sober bits, which became harder to find as the years went on. This was the beginning of a lifelong love of process and technique, of escaping into a world of hisses, blips and thunks of a knife on a board.
