A pie for my love

Gareth loves a pie. He welcomes a pie from the oven like a lover in a new dress - a little whistle, a side look of lust. I never trust my ability to make pastry; sometimes my pies look more like an ill-fitting op-shop frock than designer threads, but none the less, my husband still pays his compliments for the effort sincerely made.

Sexy Spanish mushy peas and urban kitchen wonders

The end of summer and rain in England.

A recent holiday back home to Australia ( http://www.takethefamily.com/features/long-haul-family-holidays-byron-bay-australia )  left us cashless and marooned in Manchester for the long six weeks of school holidays. One week - bare shoulders, properly warm and jubilant - I bought a paddling pool for the kids. It was the last day of sun. All the next week it rained and the grey blanket of sky wrapped us in a dreary embrace.

Aunty Vicki's first food memory

When I first moved to Melbourne from Sydney, 23 and reeling from a dramatic relationship break-up, it was Aunty Vicki who met me at the train station and wrapped me in her navy-coat warmth, smelling like Chanel, smelling like safety.

Rushall House - the last hurrah of summer

 

My Aunt Vicki and Uncle Roger are over from Australia. We all converge for a long weekend at the end of summer at their friends Jane and Martin's house in country Norfolk. We love Rushall House. It's huge and elegant and like nothing we ever knew in Australia - stately with rambling gardens of roses and fruit trees - properly posh but in that easy way that's more bohemian and welcoming than austere and stand-offish.