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When I opened the present that contained this book, I was absolutely stoked. It's small enough to fit into your kitchen shelves and it's beautiful. The first time I opened it, I spent an unknown amount of time browsing the simply laid out and eye catching recipes, dreaming of what to cook next. Many if not most recipes are one A5 page or less, making my cooking them wildly more likely than something where the ingredients run into the tens.

The first day I got it, I made the recipe for parsley drop scones (why hadn't I ever thought of putting herbs into drop scones before?) and they were a warming yet light delight. There's a note on the inspiration for the art in the book and how that ties into the main theme of autumn and the mellow fruitfulness and reflection this brings, and a note on the typefaces. It's a lovely thing.

And yet, and yet....it's *too* beautiful, which is why it's only 3 stars despite being otherwise great. The textured dark orange fabric cover with contrasting gilt swoosh (and just half a dust jacket?) is not going to last five minutes more in my kitchen. The book has already suffered a drip of drop scone batter on page 36 which seems somehow far worse than splashing a normal recipe book. It's a chunky, tactile coffee table book that's too enticing not to cook from, yet too delicate to, you know, keep where you'd want to cook from it.

It also has to be said that the general style and cost of ingredients may be a bit offputting for those who don't have access to 'jewel-like Japanese pickles' or 'almost melted liquid Taleggio and toothsome greens'. The Tin Can Cook it ain't.