Kathy Borich

I owe my love of cooking to my Italian/French grandmother, who helped raise me among the powdered lace of drying pasta, the warm earth of a back yard tomato garden, and the pungent sweetness of giambotte, her savory stovetop stew of weekly leftovers.

In the crowded kitchen, ensconced in the yeasty aroma of fresh bread, my mother and her sisters argued about the merits of basil versus oregano with the same passion some people reserved for politics. They judged their gravies, sauces, and the quality of the fresh herbs they chopped and diced with a sort of sibling jealousy usually saved for potential beaus.

My interest in the connection between cooking and crime began with an affinity for classic detective fiction. I relished the austere Sherlock Holmes and also became enamored with that trio of great dames, Agatha Christie, Margery Allingham, and Dorothy L. Sayers.

For some reason whenever I finished a Miss Marple tale, I felt a sudden urge to cook up a “good pot of tea.” And I always wondered what treacle tart and seed cake would taste like. Lord Peter Wimsey introduced me to the magnificence of fine port and Albert Campion to the majesty of High Tea. I even enjoyed slumming with Horace Rumpole as he drank the cheap red wine he fondly called Pommeroy’s plonk.

All these strange longings led to a work of love that found me thumbing through my favorites tales not for the crimes but for the crumpets. And I must admit that my favorite, Sherlock Holmes, with his ascetic ways, was not an easy mark. One only had to look at his skeletal frame to know that neither clotted cream nor fish and chips were on his menu.

Currently I enjoy giving Mystery Cooking classes featuring many of the recipes found in this book. Pictured here is a poster from a class at the Central Market Cooking School in Austin, Texas. “A Dinner to Die For” recreated the best of some infamous last suppers from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Agatha Christie, and Margery Allingham. Of course, we were careful to leave out the arsenic, foxglove leaves, and poison mushrooms.

Thus was born Appetite for Murder: A Mystery Lover’s Cookbook. Because the mysteries that cradle these recipes are classic, the book’s subject matter is timeless. And I have taken the traditional recipes and tweaked them with nouveau flair, so the old is suddenly new. It is my aim that this cookbook become a classic in itself and remain a mystery lover’s companion for years to come.