Fans pick 100 books like The Vegetable Book

Sometimes, I need reminding that the greatest discoveries can be close at hand and that simply living alertly is a sublime source of joy. When I read this book, which I have done again and again, I feel my perceptions sharpen, my sense of humor renew, and my hunger, both to read and to write, begin to stir.

As youth is sometimes wasted on the young, so is this book, which is too often assigned to people who aren’t ready for it. Thoreau’s mind is like a fire I never tire of sitting beside. He’s a rebel, a curmudgeon, a jokester, a poet, and the most down-to-earth philosopher our culture has seen. And he knows that wonder is a breakfast food, which he dishes out with utter nonchalance.

Organics, raised beds, permaculture, vertical gardening: there are plenty of exciting new ideas coming out of the veg patch. One of the most persuasive is Charles Dowding’s no-dig brigade. Many of my ‘can’t dig’ friends are joining up too, prevented from wielding a spade by sore backs, arthritis, and other such ailments. This regime of hand weeding and hoeing, and freshening the soil with generous helpings of homemade mulching composts is so much kinder to the planet than plastering it with artificial fertilisers.

A well-followed YouTuber, Huw Richards is a relative newcomer to the vegetable garden, one of the new generation. I like the way he explores the rich potential of the raised bed – that’s right: just one. And he manages to incorporate every backyard trick from harvesting pea shoots to making compost. As ambitious as it’s appealing, his Veg in One Bed will probably persuade most backyard veggie growers to expand their plots before the first season is even over. 

Let’s face it: we all want to know how to do it. And while the best thing is to consult your green-fingered neighbours, the next best is to turn to a good book. The RHS is the world’s oldest gardening club and ever since my county neighbour, Thomas Andrew Knight, slipped into the president’s chair in 1811, it’s been offering sound horticultural advice. In Knight’s day, women like his daughter Francis provided fine, watercolour images: nowadays we can reap the rewards of close-up camera work.

This book is actually an illustrated online serial, currently 64 episodes in (and on pause at the moment, but I have it on good authority that it will resume). One of my favorite episodes deals with a mysterious young woman preparing a mysterious—magical?—breakfast of zucchini and eggs…but it’s full of spoilers, so you should probably just start the story from the beginning.

I love Twice: The Serial because it's an amazing contemporary fantasy story, well told and beautifully illustrated—a great example of the kind of fantasy I love, which is the "slow build" type...we're in the real world and then mysterious things happen around the edges...and then right in the middle.

Spear goes through the vegetable (and vegetables-that-are-really fruits) table alphabetically, explaining ways to steam, roast, boil, cut, blanche, and dress the plain vegetable, as well as recipes that use the vegetable in fancier ways. I’ve got to get an artichoke and finally learn the finesse.

What is the point of gardening? Why all this digging around in the dirt? Lois Ehlert's Growing Vegetable Soup brings us through the steps and meaning of growing food, right up to the point: the empowering and delicious pay-off moment of making soup and eating it. But check out all her books on the theme. Ehlert's bright colors and shapes make an irresistible read, perfect for toddlers and preschoolers. 

Here’s an art book I adore, filled with paintings by Maira Kalman that depict just what the title suggests: Women holding things.

Women hold so much—our children, our aging loved ones, watering cans and zucchini, schedules and lists, grief and gladness. I love how this collection of images cumulatively illustrates the weight that women bear, the joy and burden of it all. Interspersed throughout are brief, poignant reflections that frame the visual concept.

Zucchini the ferret, born in the Bronx Zoo, leads a bleak life.

When he learns about the outside world, he yearns to escape—but when he does, it's straight into chaos.

I read Zucchini many times as a child and last read it in my 30s, and it's wonderfully more grimdark than I remember. Published in 1982, the book is 1980's-New-York gritty, and so are the hard adult lessons: fighting for your needs is full of risk; betrayal is common; love, compassion, and understanding are scarce; and idealism has an unsustainable cost.

But this makes the bits of joy that Zucchini wrests from the world all the more vivid. The story, like the world, is hard; but the story, like the world, has hope.

Joy might not be the first thing you think of when considering grief, but then maybe you haven’t read Ross Gay.

Gay understands that joy exists because of grief, not as a counterbalance, but in a deeply reciprocal relationship. As his father is dying, he presses their faces together, and in his father’s freckles, he sees seeds, a garden. It is just one instance in this book where Gay recognizes that what grows from loss is love.

His book clarifies what I know to be true: that when we fall into the hole of loss, we find ourselves in a deep well of love.