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Despite a mouthful of fillings, I don’t really have a sweet tooth and so tend not to delve into the sugary world of desserts, afters and puds. However, we had a friend over for a boozy Sunday lunch and this Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall-Clafoutis-Recipe had caught my eye in the Guardian the day before.

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There’s nothing finer than getting up at 05:00 on a Sunday morning, amassing on Clapham Common with 27,000 other Lycra-clad humans, and pedalling off on a six-hour ride to Brighton. To help us reach our destination we packed the traditional sausage and Branston sandwiches, a bunch of bananas, 2 gallons of Lucozade and, for the […]

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Somewhere round the end of March I saw my friend Hazel for the first time in nearly three years. She married an Australian chap back in 05 and opted for a warm climate and good standard of living over London - crazy but true. Anyway we had lunch and talked about food and then she […]

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We had guests so there would have to be pudding. The day before the Guardian magazine had featured a rhubarb and custard tart and it sounded so lovely and looked so pretty that I just had to give it a go. And so to Borough Market where the pricing on rhubarb varied wildly from £4.50 […]

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And so to Sunday afternoon. The first of the new year. The first in a very long time not to come accompanied by even a hint of the previous night’s activities. Unless of course you count the ‘Nam flashbacks from watching The Deer Hunter. Sisisisi…sixth of January. We were going to go for a nice […]

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Count them. Not one, not two, but three varieties of chocolate are involved in the creation of these aptly named triple chocolate biscotti. Not only that, but they are ‘Double baked for added crispness’ ™

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Every December Dresden holds its annual Stollen Festival. It is a celebration of all things Stollen and involves among other things, electing the Dresden Stollen Maiden (Dresdner Stollenmädchen) and baking the world’s largest Stollen in accordance with the standards laid down by the Stollenschutzverband. This is a recipe for a stollen of more modest proportions […]

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If the true meaning of Christmas is giving gifts which credit you with the greatest amount gratitude for the least amount of effort, then these truffles are a winner.

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It was Sunday and we’d stayed up stupendously late the night before watching England lose at rugby, going down the pub for post-match analysis, and then playing pencil and paper games with wine and beer and salty snacks, all of which meant that the nearly regular Sunday walk with pub treat was not an option. […]

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