Something to make: Georgian summer stew (ajapsandali)
Plus thrillers, self-help books, and the word "enshittification"
Hello,
Today—hot stew is out, cold (or at least room temperature!) stew is in. It’s nearly June, people!
One of best known summer stew/slow cooked vegetable dish is arguably a ratatouille, but if finnicky presentation and culinarily gifted rats aren’t your thing, there’s cianfotta alla napoletana, a tumble of slow-cooked veg lousy with basil and slick with olive oil. For close to three years, I’ve been making Rosie Mackean’s recipe from her ‘One from Campania’ menu, which is simple and lovely and far more than the sum of its parts. Pair it with focaccia and her torta caprese, which is my platonic ideal of a chocolate cake, and a summer meal generally.
But Georgian summer stew, ajapsandali, is something equally special, and less well known. Like any summer stew, the ingredients aren’t fixed or prescriptive, but it’s usually aubergine, tomatoes, potatoes and peppers, cooked down with a Georgian spice mix called khmeli suneli, which contains marigold petals and has a flavour that’s equal parts sunshine and earthiness.
It’s worth seeking out, I swear1, and impossible to entirely substitute with other ingredients. But you can get close to Tbilisi in summer with Caroline Eden’s recipe from her new book Green Mountains—it’s here—which uses a mix of cayenne, dill seeds and cumin. There’s nothing fussy or prescriptive about it, either, although I would heartily recommend the addition of a little tarragon, one of the signature flavours of Georgia and my favourite herb2. I plonked it all in a big pot—cubed aubergines first—and just kept cooking, not even bothering with “stages.” Finishing it with a lot of lemon is crucial.
In Georgia, you can get it all kinds of ways, but my favourite was served very cold and so reduced down it was almost jellied, in a tiny earthen dish alongside crumbly cornbread (mchadi) and incredibly funky, sharp Georgian guda, which is the opposite, flavour wise, of mild Dutch gouda3.
For something close in London, serve it room temp, with crumbled feta on top and maybe a toasted pita for dipping and scooping—but creme fraiche, focaccia, soca and any combination of dairy products and bread won’t let you down. Should you be having friends for dinner, it’s even better made the day before and left in the fridge overnight. Serve as a starter to a relaxed saucy pasta, and a fruity pudding—my no-fuss Dinner Party Formula.
Recommendations:
This New York Times quiz, “What makes you happy?” made me happy: I have had some amazing meals, felt moments of spiritual awe (I saw the Northern Lights last September!), and read a lot of great books, thanks for asking!
I also loved this opinion piece from Cas Mudde on how young women are being politically taken for granted, while we fixate on young (right wing) men. They care about climate change and are horrified by what’s happening in Gaza. So why are they being overlooked? (There is actually a parallel indication of this in terms of news coverage — might be a bit too nerdy for this newsletter, but it’s a thing.)
The word “enshittifcation” may be the greatest word I have heard in years—although apparently it dates from around 2023. It describes the way platforms are fuelling the rise of crap (often in the form of AI slop) to take over the internet, the AI models are training on it, and the shit is then further proliferating.
To mix work and life, I must tell you that I did a Ted Talk about our work on climate journalism. It turns out when you do a Ted Talk you must Promote It Relentlessly. Even my Dad shared it, albeit while pointing out we have “varied opinions” on this topic in our family. Please don’t think I’m cringe (I think I’m cringe), but please do spread our message of making climate coverage better.
While I’m on the topic, here are two climate Ted Talks I really love, especially if you are a Climate Change News Avoider (I see you.) First, the drag queen/environmental activist Pattie Gonia on climate and joy (“If you feel dead inside, get outside!”), and second, Dr. Kris de Meyer on the psychology of climate change, which explains why shaming and scaring the shit out of people is not actually that effective.
Plus, the climate journalists are not okay. Next time you read a great climate story, email the journalist and tell them you liked it—you’ll probably help someone keep going.
Books and stuff:
Buy Saabira Chaudhuri’s book Consumed: How Big Brands Got Us Hooked on Plastic! You may think I am biased (and I am), but if you love non-fiction, there is a flaming garbage barge, a garbologist who becomes a darling of the consumer goods industry, the Great Diaper Battle, the story of how the recycling symbol on all that plastic doesn’t mean it’s recyclable (surprise!), and so much more. Basically, you’ll realise how much of this stuff is a scam and why we got so addicted. It’s also on Spotify premium as an audiobook, read by Saabira.
I like to keep a little self-help book on the go, but I need to scratch that itch with someone who is a straight shooter. I love Emily Nagowski’s books, and think Come as You Are is life-changing reading, because while it is ostensibly about sex, it’s also really about how to handle stress in a healthy way.
I now enjoy Oliver Burkeman’s books, especially Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals, which is very unapologetically written for anxious, overwhelmed perfectionists who sit at their desks all day. Whenever I am spiralling on a Sunday about book edits and house bits, I hear Burkeman’s voice in my head telling me I’m never going to feel totally in control, I’m never going to be on top of the to-do list, and so going for a guilt-free walk and a coffee with my Puppy Club4 friends is probably the best thing I could do with my time.
If you have read either Birnam Wood or Kala, please message me so we can discuss the endings. I raced through these books, thought they were delectably pacy and juicy and violent and would make excellent prestige TV (the quality of the writing—high—was the only thing that made them “literary” thrillers). But a thriller lives or dies on whether it sticks the landing, and on this point, I need someone to compare notes with, because I am not so sure.
On the topic of “sticking the landing”, I’m struggling to find a romance novel that nails it these days. Emily Henry’s Great Big Beautiful Life was, regrettably, a true disappointment: overstuffed, one-dimensional, predictable, not much sex. They are making her write them too fast, and it shows. On the other hand is Slow Dance by Rainbow Rowell—a beautifully written and indeed slow burning love story between two people who are utterly believable as real individuals. At its best, it is excruciatingly romantic. At its worst, it is very, very long, and revolves around a female protagonist who is so self sabotaging and misanthropic—albeit in a frustratingly realistic way—I wanted to shake her. “There’s no helping some people,” I huffed many, many times, which somewhat undercut the romance.
There is absolutely nothing at the cinema these days I want to see. It’s been this way most of the year. Even the arty stuff looks actively bad—this absolutely inane horn-dog montage, and another self-indulgent Wes Anderson film. Where have all the good movies gone?!
Luckily, we have another season of Race Across the World, a show I think is very fun, very exciting, but also surprisingly deep and nuanced (especially for reality TV.) My favourites are brothers Brian & Melvin, but what makes the show so great is by the end you’re sort of rooting for them all.
For listening, I’m loving everything CMAT, especially Running/Planning, and Joy Crooke’s new album (here’s Carmen), which is jazzy and soulful but also irreverent and very London.
I also love this Jungle cover of Birds of a Feather, which I think would be the absolute perfect song to score a wedding scene to. For the record, I walked down the aisle at our wedding to the opening of Then I Met You by the Proclaimers—for me, personally, the funnest and most romantic song on earth.
In London you can get it online or in Borough Market from Spice Mountain. If you can get khmeli suneli, I’d just use 2 tsp in place of all the other spices.
The cookbook also includes a recipe for tarragon panna cotta, which I have not made myself but I’ve tried at a dinner for the cookbook. It was divine.
This was at the painfully hip Café Stamba in Tbilisi—but in Georgia there is no relationship between pricier and better. Adjapsandali is always good.
This is what my group of park friends calls itself. We are a group of people of all ages, united by our dogs, none of whom are still puppies.