So around four months ago I decided I needed a little direction in my life. I was running around in what can only be described as two-job-one-blog-one-unpaid-writing-job circle. I ate, slept, drank coffee, worked, wrote, ate some more and cried. A lot. Then all of a sudden the circle slowed down and I had one…
I hate fussy cocktails. Sometimes I come home from work and all I want is a Cosmopolitan. Yet craving just one glass means traipsing to the shops to buy vodka, Cointreau that costs £20 and squeezing around three limes in order to get the right capful of liquid required. Then remembering I don’t own a…
I have a confession to make: I am not an overt fan of traditional fruit cake. Chastise me all you will but give me a sponge cake with a swath of frosting any day. Of course, stick a slab in front of me and I probably will eat it, but given the option, my Christmas…
I can remember the first time I ate lebkuchen. Sadly it wasn’t wrapped up warm against a biting chill in Berlin, a glass of mulled wine in my hand sampling one offered to me by a curly-moustached German man, but in language class in primary school. In between renditions of ‘O Tannenbaum’ and ‘Silent Nacht’,…