“There are two things I simply cannot tolerate: feminists and margarine,” says gourmet cook and convicted murderer Manako Kaji. I have been glued to Asako Yuzuki’s new novel Butter, which comes out later this month. Translated by Polly Barton, the story contains delicious descriptions of edible things, the story of a Japanese serial killer and, crucially, the recipe for the rich stew with which she seduces her male victims. Boeuf bourguignon is not on my culinary radar, but the thought of it sent me in the direction of something equally comforting and full of deep flavour: Tamal Ray’s gorgeous pumpkin, sage and barley stew (pictured top).

I treat February very much as a head-down kind of month. A time to make plans, take stock and, indeed, to make stock. There’s a pan of chicken bones on the hob right now, the hefty carcass of the free-range bird that we ate for a Sunday roast. Simmered with carrots, onions, parsley stalks and peppercorns, those bones will yield enough good stock to make both a batch of soup and José Pizarro’s braised belly pork with spinach and chestnuts.

It’s my way of using every scrap of the bird (especially the bits of jelly on the carving plate), including the wings tips. It was the second pot of glowing broth I’ve made in the last week, the first being a vegan version with roast onions that was given depth with miso paste and dried mushrooms. Rather than using dried porcini alone, I have been combining them with much cheaper dried shiitake, which lets you make a batch of umami-rich, vegetarian stock for a couple of quid. A jug of homemade stock in the fridge feels like money in the bank, a pot of vegetable gold in which to dip whenever you need it. I used it as the base for a soup of leeks, lentils and spring greens, which also allowed me to knock a hole in the mountain of rainbow chard lurking in the fridge.

I have been very much a home bird these last few months, partly because I have been finishing a manuscript and time is marching on. I have rarely gone further than my garden this year, but even in the depths of winter, there are fragrant pleasures to be had out there. Most of them in pots around the kitchen door. The thyme, probably the most robust of winter herbs, is doing well in its tub outside. My favourite seasoning at the moment is to chop together equal amounts of thyme leaves and finely grated lemon zest, then grind in sea salt flakes and a few juniper berries. The scent is pure winter – fresh and invigorating. Just the sort of seasoning to mix with olive oil to baste flat field mushrooms for baking, or to scatter over the surface of pretty much anything that comes off the grill.

Wanting more than just “comfort food”, I have been eating to keep warm. I can cope with any number of cold but bright stunning winter days, but less so when the days are grey and damp. Everything I have put on the table recently has been about keeping warm. Such food does more than simply comfort – it satisfies us right down to our souls. Cooking, and indeed life, is about hearth and home like never before.

Stew to the rescue | I did very well with Meera Sodha’s fragrantly voluptuous butter bean stew with rose harissa, a dish that warmed us from top to toe and was great the next day, too, ladelled into bowls of steamed white rice.

Midweek pick-me-up | I crave recipes that are both cheap and substantial. Rachel Roddy’s gnocchi with pancetta and pecorino fitted the bill perfectly. She recommends firm, shop-bought gnocchi for this recipe, which was a relief on a midweek evening when nothing was further from my mind than making my own.

Good pud | My soft spot for an old-fashioned pudding is a seasonal one. Right now, my need is satiated by anything with custard. Indeed, I sometimes think I could eat an old slipper if someone poured a jug of vanilla-scented crème anglaise over it. Most welcome of all are those with a fizz of citrus. Felicity Cloake’s self-saucing lemon pudding was on the table last weekend and no doubt will be again before the spring. Light and deliciously sharp, it ticks pretty much every box.

Spring fling | Dinners have included a celebration at Spring, Skye Gyngell’s restaurant at Somerset House in London. On a freezing night, we found her team cooking up a vegetarian storm of roast pumpkin and winter vegetables on a bed of pistachio-spiked farro (a grain that has been haunting my larder for too long – now I know exactly what to do with it). Dessert was an almond tart with finely chopped nuts that was crisp yet fudgy – and left me begging for more.

Eat in and take away | In London for a day of meetings, I made sure to leave enough time to grab a quick lunch at the bar at Lisboeta. After being thoroughly restored by bifana, their legendary pork sandwich with mustard and chilli dip, I was up for another round of meetings. Of course, I couldn’t leave without at least one of Nuno Mendes’s extraordinary black pepper pastel de natas. By which I mean one to eat in and one to take away for later.