How to slice, dice and chop like a pro.

How naive was I to think I could learn one new skill a week? Having spectacularly underestimated how long it would take to master the art of chopping, I’m starting to realise I might have been over ambitious in my quest, but I won’t be discouraged because my newly acquired blade skills give me everything to play for. It might take more than a few casseroles to get knife-perfect, and future skills might come more naturally, but daily practice has seen me achieve new levels of efficiency and the trusty old cheese grater is getting way less action – I kid you not.  Continue reading How to slice, dice and chop like a pro.

The day Donald Trump became President Elect: a note to my daughter.

Dear Little B. I’m writing this post for you. Maybe you’ll read it as a teenager reflecting on life, maybe you’ll be wrinkly and rooting through the archives but, however you come across it, whatever you’re doing, you won’t be the four year-old in blue Tinkerbell pyjamas for whom it was originally written.
Continue reading The day Donald Trump became President Elect: a note to my daughter.

How to make the perfect soft-boiled egg

How do you like your eggs in the morning? I like mine with, not so much a big sloppy kiss, but a really gooey centre. Boiled, poached, fried: who cares? If you serve me one with a core of liquid sunshine, you’ll be getting more than a peck in return – I’m that over easy…

Continue reading How to make the perfect soft-boiled egg

Went to Ibiza. Had the last dance in Space.

Sometimes, when you’re presented with a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, the right thing to do is grab it with both hands. Even if, when you wake up the next morning and can think of a million reasons why you shouldn’t have grabbed it with both hands – and the two empty bottles in the recycling bin remind you how you acted hastily in grabbing it with both hands: grabbing it with both hands was still the right thing to do. I can testify. Continue reading Went to Ibiza. Had the last dance in Space.