When I was a teenager, Saturday night dinners followed a fairly similar path. Eating as a family would normally result in steak, thickly cut rooster potatoes roasted in the oven with chilli flakes and rocket dressed with parmesan, olive oil and balsamic. If it was just my sister and I, we would raid the…
Everyone in my family has their own ‘thing’. Something that, should the occasion, celebration or the occasional Sunday call for it, can be whipped up without fear of catastrophe, sinking middles or soggy bottoms. For my sister, her thing is Focaccia. She can whip up a mean rosemary-spiked and salt slathered creation in no time,…