Too many cookbooks and not enough cooking?

There must be some sort of statistics on our mania for cookbooks. Maybe it’s a kind of inverse proportional algorithm, where the promise of health (or decadence) correlates with the amount of times you open the book in question, set against ever actually putting any of the recipes into practice.

Maybe it’s a bit like the print version of gym membership: you buy it for the promise, initially feel better for its presence, and then, as you tip over into guilt for lack of actually using it, you seek out the next one – which, in the case of gym membership, might be a Pilates or spinning class.

Cookbooks are smart cookies, though, because even if you don't ever make anything from them, their titles and pretty (or mutedly tasteful) spines make your kitchen so much more attractive. I noticed this when the latest bulletin from that genius creator of domestic desire, Avoca, came into my inbox, telling me about a season of cookery demos it is organising throughout October and November in its Kilmacanogue and Malahide stores (avoca.com).

Now, as someone who learned how to cook from a brilliant mother, I’d never be hugely inclined to go to someone else’s demo, but who couldn’t be inspired to try to emulate the people who promise a “Virtuous Tart” (Susan Jane White)? Then there’s the lure of “Good Mood Food” (Donal Skehan) and – whisper it, for it is only September – “Christmas Made Easy” (Leylie Hayes).

If it's true that you can express your personality through food, the cookery-book world is your oyster. Having given up, along with most of the nation, on ever being a domestic goddess, and having also realised that I'm not going to be able to copy Nigel Slater in growing my own dinner for a year (because, quite simply, I don't have a garden), my current favourite is The Extraordinary Cookbook.

By Stefan Gates, it has been sitting on my kitchen shelf for nearly five years and, hand on heart , I have never made a single recipe from it. But one day, I swear, I will try Bum Sandwiches. Basically, these are cream-cheese sandwiches with rocket and thyme which you wrap in cling film and sit on for 20 minutes. Eating optional.