It’s 1.37am and with a flick of my wrist, the last tiny face has been iced onto an array of gingerbread pumpkins. I sigh happily, inviting Chris over to look at my handiwork. I begin to wish I had red food colouring powder to give these creatures rosy cheeks or perhaps to add a golden…
Spiced Gin Gingerbread Stars and Snowflakes
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…