Getting Comfortable with Chef Yotam Ottolenghi

I was first introduced to Chef Yotam Ottolenghi a decade ago at his London restaurant Nopi. Never had I experienced a menu so colourful and fragrant, where vegetables and fruits were so lovingly prominent. I left with a signed copy of his latest cookbook, thrilled to know that there were many more in his collection awaiting me, several of which have enjoyed spots on New York Times bestsellers lists including Plenty and Jerusalem. From that point on, Ottolenghi’s recipes have come to life in my own kitchen on a weekly basis. They’re a celebration of Mediterranean freshness and aromatic Middle Eastern flavours with an adoration for beautiful produce.  

When travelling to London I never miss a chance to visit one of the eight restaurants and cafes in Yotam Ottolenghi’s collection. It’s an even rarer treat for the chef to come to you, so I was thrilled for the opportunity to hear first-hand about his newest cookbook, Comfort, during his visit to Toronto. 

Comfort is truly the most global representation of Ottolenghi’s works to date. Born in Jerusalem with Italian and German roots, his earliest memories of food were always cross-cultural. “It’s about our journeys and all the stories contained in them,” he explained during his recent visit. Each of Ottolenghi’s cookbooks has increasingly eluded borders. This is not in the pursuit of culinary fusion, arguably a tired trend, but something more human: “a celebration of movement, of immigration, of family, of home—of people.” Few cultures are left unexplored in Comfort’s 100 recipes.  

Take for example, roasted chicken, which gets its own chapter. “Roast chicken is a global comfort food,” says Ottolenghi. “We realized how often there are shared connections between recipes we each think of as our own.” He delights in reimagining this classic across a variety of exciting recipes that could be considered Indian, Jamaican, Chinese, or Italian. That sense of joy and ease is driven by his team of global collaborators. “Cooking has always been about sharing ideas,” says Ottolenghi. “Authenticity is a notion I reject. It prevents you from embracing food full-on. Tell the stories of the culture that created the food, but keep having fun.” 

So what does comfort food mean to Chef Ottolenghi? “It’s so personal, so tied up with home, with family, with memory.” To be sure, these recipes are a warm hug on a cold day—aromatic stews bubbling on the stove, breads rising in the oven, cheesy pastas and creamy custards. But the book’s unique international lens transcends our own nostalgia, opening doors to comfort food around the world and defining new culinary rituals. An important disclaimer: “The definition we have the least time for is that comfort food is somehow naughty, the thing we eat when no one is looking,” says Ottolenghi. 

A craving for these recipes in today’s world is poignant to Chef Ottolenghi: “Wars cause so much sorrow and anxiety. Comfort food is needed more than ever.” It is a comfort to read through these recipes, and to understand the message that we have much more in common than not, that we are richer for our shared connections. As Ottolenghi says, “Food and words have the incredible power to connect people.” Of course, the best dishes are shared, and the most comfort comes with family and friends.