For the Love of Nigella
On Nigella Lawson's intoxicating appeal and influence
Stuck in bed with the flu in 2021, I discovered Nigella Bites, Nigella Lawson’s first TV series that had premiered twenty years prior. While I had been following her for years and watched several of her other series, Nigella Bites stopped me in my tracks.
Nigella’s intoxicating appeal lies in her authenticity. In Nigella Bites, she moves confidently around the kitchen, but in a way that is distinctly feminine. In one breath she unflinchingly cuts a chicken carcass with total control, and in the next she dips her fingers directly into a bowl to taste the sauce, or tosses a salad with her bare hands. Others have criticized her as messy and unprofessional, but to me there is nothing more alluring. She is confident in her domain in an unfussy, feminine way.
In contrast to Martha Stewart’s unwavering precision, Nigella’s ease feels warm and human. She cooks in the same way I do — without precise measurements, reliant on intuition. From the first episode (playfully titled Fast Food) she comes across as accessible and relatable. Prior to cooking, she drops the kids off at school and visits a no-frills supermarket. The episode ends with her sneaking back downstairs in the dark for a late night snack.
In one of my favorite episodes all about entertaining, Nigella has friends over for dinner. She prepares several shared appetizers such as prosciutto-wrapped green beans, hummus, and guacamole ahead of serving tiger prawns with garlic and chili. Her enviable dining room is directly off the kitchen, surrounded by bookshelves on all sides with enough room to comfortably seat ten (I think about her home often).
Nigella’s first book is titled How to Eat. In the first episode of Nigella Bites, she remarks that unlike restaurant chefs whose goal is to innovate, her “skill lies in eating.” By titling it How to Eat as opposed to How to Cook, Nigella makes the pleasure of eating the primary metric for success.
After indoctrinating a friend into the cult of Nigella, she gifted me her cookbook How to Be a Domestic Goddess. The book focuses on baking. As I’ve noted before, baking is not my strong suit. Nigella brings the same laid back attitude towards baking, while calling attention to the required precision. It is the most rigid we see her.
“This is a book about baking, but not a baking book – not in the sense of being a manual or a comprehensive guide or a map of a land you do not inhabit. I neither want to confine you to kitchen quarters nor even suggest that it might be desirable. But I do think that many of us have become alienated from the domestic sphere, and that it can actually make us feel better to claim back some of that space, make it comforting rather than frightening.”
That’s Nigella — reclaiming domesticity in the way that makes sense to her.
Nevertheless, I can’t help feeling that the one thing standing between me and goddess status is mastering her molten chocolate cake. I plan to attempt it later this week and will keep you posted.
After recovering from that flu in 2021, I got out of bed and wrote the initial plan for Dinnertime. Nigella remains one of my biggest influences.
Every episode of Nigella Bites can be found on YouTube, and I cannot encourage a watch enough. If you enjoyed this, forward it to a friend who cares about food and hosting.