The best books for cocktail-loving flavour fans

I just love how this book looks, first of all. It has an elegant, art deco, classy vibe that really sets the mood, and your mood is an important part of enjoying a good cocktail, or any drink for that matter.

There are some cocktails in here I know I'll never make, I'm not going to mix up my own bone tincture, but that doesn't matter. This isn't so much a recipe book for the home mixologist as it is a coffee-table collection of inspiring drinks.

When I leaf through the pages and look at all the gorgeous photographs, it sets me dreaming of which bars I want to visit next. That being said, it still features plenty of cocktails I'll want to whip up the next time I have guests over.

I write about beer, cider, spirits, and cocktails. In fact, I'll write about almost anything that will get you drunk, plus a few liquids that won't, but I don't write about wine. That's my off-duty drink, the one side of booze I don't need to know about beyond asking myself whether I want more of the wine in my glass.

So you could say that for me all wine is from another galaxy. It can seem too big, the world of wine. Too deep. Too stuffy. This book makes it fun again, makes it fresh and exciting. I almost want to learn about the stuff, despite my best efforts not to!

After reading this, I feel I'd happily follow Dan Keeling and Mark Andrew into any cellar to swill and swig the hours away.

Ok, you got me: this isn't a drinks book. But if you're interested in drinks, properly interested, I mean, above and beyond a fondness for getting drunk, then you're interested in flavour.

This book sets my mind racing about the combinations I could conjure up between drink, garnish, and snack. Just imagine, you open a page at random, and there's Segnit's pairing of caraway and poppy seed. Delicious! How much more so might it be next to a nice glass of Madeira, or perhaps something that's sat for a while in a sherry cask taking on all those flavours?

Another one: sesame and shiso. Ok. I know some gins flavoured with shiso. This could work. I flick through this book, and a million new paths open before me, leading me on to tasty treats.

No book can ever tell you, definitively, what tastes good. This one can tell you why certain things taste good to you, which is a much more interesting subject to dive into.

I found it fascinating to learn just how much all the other senses are involved when it comes to eating and drinking, it really is the most sensory-stimulating activity in our lives. Ok, perhaps the second most.

This book also goes into a subject that's close to my heart: learning to become a better taster. So many people seem to think your skill at this is fixed at birth. That's not true! If you're anything like me, then you'll love how this book opens up a whole dimension of aroma and flavour and makes your world all the richer for it.

We're back to drinks proper with another feast for the eyes. This book has a deep appeal to me because I've always been a francophile. France has pulled at me from the earliest family holidays through to the years I lived in Paris.

Now, back in London, there's a bittersweet nostalgia in the mix. This book captures a lot of what I miss from those years because it's not just about the drinks but also the culture that surrounds them.

It reminds me that a drink is always an occasion. It doesn't have to be a fancy one either. There's the domestic and quotidian side, too, like preparing a café au lait the French way in one of those ridiculous footed bowls; they're totally useless to drink from yet somehow all the more appealing for it.