By Leigh O’Connor.
Winter drapes Tuscany in a quieter kind of beauty. The vineyards, stripped of their heavy clusters, stand skeletal against skies of soft grey. Villages glow with lantern light as dusk falls early and the air carries a bite that sends people hurrying indoors where kitchens hum with warmth.
It is here, in this tender season of stillness and depth, that Amber Guinness situates her newest work, Winter in Tuscany.
This is not just a cookbook, but an evocation of atmosphere - a way of living and eating that embraces the richness of the cold months. Amber paints a portrait of Tuscan Winters through food: steaming bowls of ribollita thick with beans and kale, roasted game brushed with juniper and herbs, glossy chestnuts popping by the fire.
Her dishes are the sort that coax you to gather close, to eat slowly, to taste the season itself.
Perhaps the most beguiling thread woven through the book is the philosophy of quanto basta - literally, ‘as much as you need’. It is a way of cooking that resists exactness in favour of intuition.
A glug of golden oil instead of a measured spoon. A pinch of salt taken between fingers rather than counted in teaspoons. It is a philosophy that whispers: trust yourself. Taste, adjust, allow the food to tell you what it needs.
Amber recalls a Tuscan cook teaching her to make pici. When asked how much flour to use, the woman shrugged and said simply, "As much as it takes.” That spirit - casual yet assured, practical yet poetic - runs through every page. To cook this way is to be present, to pay attention to the moment rather than the rule. It is an antidote to perfectionism, an invitation to cook with joy instead of fear.
What makes Winter in Tuscany so moving is the way it blurs the line between cooking and life, for quanto basta is not only a method for the kitchen, but a metaphor. It suggests that living well, like seasoning well, is a matter of balance and instinct - of knowing when to give more, when to hold back, when to simply let things be.
As you turn the pages, you can almost hear the clink of glasses on a wooden farmhouse table, feel the heat of terracotta tiles underfoot, smell the stew bubbling away while rain patters softly outside.
Amber invites us not only to taste Tuscany, but to embody it: to let Winter be less about endurance and more about embrace. About candlelight, conviviality and the kind of food that wraps itself around you like a woollen shawl.
Winter in Tuscany is a gentle reminder that cooking is not about precision but presence. That nourishment is not found in numbers, but in flavours, textures and the comfort of a shared meal.
It is a book that lingers, like the memory of a good dinner on a long, dark night - an ode to the season, to Tuscany and to the art of just enough.
We have three recipes for you to try at home:
"I love this very speedy and delicious starter. The meaty mushrooms with melted cheese, honey and thyme are a lovely combination when eaten with very good crusty bread.”
A simple thick, dark beef stew made with lots of black pepper. It's important to make this dish in a heavy-based saucepan, so the bottom of the stew doesn't burn.
"This is a dense, cherry-infused chocolate cake which can be mixed in one pan. It has developed as a variation over the years from a favourite recipe in our house, queen Nigella’s spectacular chocolate and marmalade sponge from her book, How to Be a Domestic Goddess.”
