I firmly believe anyone interested in a contemporary study of British life should just sit on a train. It’s the stuff of anthropologists’ dreams. This weekend we travelled to Manchester to see the Patriarch’s family. In true British style, our Sunday train service back to London was doubly delayed. We were diverted onto a different… Continue reading The Most British Train Journey
The radio silence this week has been because it has been too bloody hot to cook anything. I love food more than the next person, but it was just too sweltering to start roasting and boiling things. Mister Baby delighted in being dressed only in a nappy and is thankfully still at an age… Continue reading Too Bloody Hot Vegan Caprese Salad
Oh, the heat. It’s the prerogative of the British to complain about how cold and drizzly it is for 90% of the year but then be a bit grumpy and out of sorts when we are finally graced with the sun. It is a rare pocket of national ingratitude. I have never liked the heat… Continue reading Sunday Bake: Feta & broccoli tart
Leftovers are a wonderful thing. I don’t know what it is about them but I think I enjoy them more than the original meal. Maybe it appeals to my greed – you can serve several things together and enjoy a bit of everything. Since the destroyer of vests (aka, Mister Baby; number 5 on the… Continue reading Pimping leftovers: a looking like an adult hack
Sometimes the Patriarch outdoes himself. It may be six months into parenthood and he still can’t recite a nursery rhyme, but he has invented a new game to keep babs occupied for a while. Introducing the Council of Animals. A single chamber structure, here Mister Baby wears his ceremonial yoghurty vest to debate with the… Continue reading Sunday Bake: Bakewell Blondie Pudding
Today is my first photo-journalism blog. By which I mean I did not get to finish my lunch yesterday. The poor thing has been teething pretty damn hard (the medical term for this should be ‘miserable and snot encrusted’) so when he conked out on me for two hours, I wasn’t going to move him.… Continue reading Mummy snacks: yoghurt and blueberry compote
My glorious sister is getting married soon and foolishly left me in charge of organising the booze-free hen for mummies and mummies-to-be (don’t worry, she’s also having the traditional booze up). To celebrate this beautiful, talented woman – what else but a Jurassic Hen? The Easter Cake I made was so big Grandmoo actually froze some… Continue reading Non-recipe post: Jurassic Hen!
