I think everyone, no matter their ability in the kitchen, has their own signature recipe. Something that, when baked, cooked or thrown together in a bowl and served on the table, is like the embodiment of themselves. It does not need to be complicated or even any good, but somewhere in between a bowl of chopped chocolate to rich brownie or a few puffs of flour to tearable foccacia, a dish becomes a part of that person.

I believe I am a Lemon Meringue Pie. I became a Lemon Meringue Pie when I was a teenager, wary of each layer until I scooped up a spoonful of my godmother’s version and became addicted. From then on, it became my signature. If a dessert was required for the kitchen table with more than eight legs kicking underneath it, I would dutifully rub neat cubes of unsalted butter between my fingers into flour, juice lemons and whip egg whites into clouds. There were moments of victory and many of failure – an overwhisked meringue, a pastry case that bubbled and cracked after I forgot to blind bake it and a lemon curd filling without the essential lemon juice are all highlights. But over the years, those failures have morphed and changed my recipe, mostly kept in my mind with a few tweaks here and there committed to paper. Finally, after nearly ten years, I feel my signature is ready to be shared. Albeit with a little twist.

I’ve always been tempted by the idea of lemon and lavender in a meringue pie, a floral combination with the right balance to avoid any connotations of soapiness. I’ve adjusted it three times now and feel that the ratio in this recipe is as close to perfect as it can get. Purists can omit the lavender sugar should they please but I like the contrast that the perfumed marshmallowy meringue offers to cut through the lemon curd’s slight sourness. I have to admit in part that I also wanted to prove my favourite Great British Bake Off contestant Norman was correct, that the pair do go together, which is a notion my colleagues also agreed with when I served my second attempt at the office bake sale to favourable comments. There’s nothing to be feared from experimentation in the kitchen, after all, it’s like your father adding roasted and shredded beetroot to a thick brownie mix or your mother throwing double the quantity of cake mix into a loaf pan curious of the outcome. Whether your Bolognese, macaroni cheese or even the way you artfully arrange supernoodles on toast is your signature, own it. And don’t forget to experiment every once in a while.