Last night, I spent an unwilling half an hour playing freezer Tetris, trying to fit more lamb’s liver than I’d like to say around boxes of mini Magnums and bags of chicken stock. So when it came to supper, I wasn’t prepared to give my time… Read More
At my 21st birthday party, I had a perspex tower of cupcakes, with huge swirls of icing – ivory and duck egg blue, to match my invitations. I was so desperately proud of them. I was 21 and energetic and brave and stupid. Stupid because cupcakes are simply… Read More
Sometimes I worry that I’m flighty. And not in a charming, no one can tie me down, I’m-a-free-spirit sort of way. But rather skittish, unreliable, inconstant. When I feel that way, I come home and bake spelt bread.
Bonfire night, for me, conjures up thoughts of food: watching fireworks in a cold, dark field, is synonymous with almost-too-hot-to-hold baked potatoes, thick, steaming soup in gloved hands, and charred sausages. So why do we waste our time with the eternally disappointing toffee apple?
I love autumn, but my immune system does not.
When I was little, my mother read to me every night.
My life is punctuated by books.