Making gingerbread in the days leading towards Christmas was never a tradition in my family. We didn’t build houses dripping with sweets or stamp out the imprints of men and press sultana buttons into their chests. I more closely associate festive baking with trays upon trays of mince pies, many of which would make their…
Dear New York What is it about you that intrigues me so much? Is it yellow streaks of taxis and crammed sidewalks and the abruptness of walk/don’t walk? Is it the tall buildings and skyscrapers from which to look out from observation decks, only to find a bright green postage stamp of grass in the…
Much like a magpie, pretty shiny things capture my attention with a silly amount of ease. Shamefully, festive-themed coffee cups, pajamas dotted with reindeer and candles scented with cinnamon, ginger and winter berry end up in my arms quicker than you can say “a toffee nut latte please”. I think that’s probably why I love…
When it comes to Christmas, there are the obvious all-round flavours we think of – clovey mulled wine with rolled up cinnamon sticks like fat cigars, clementines pierced with a thumbnail spraying citrus across your fingers, fiery brandy turned petrol blue to pour over the pudding and thick, unctuous port decanted into tiny glasses. Then…