No knead bread's needs are few

This bread may be old news to many, but it's a revelation to me - the recipe was first printed in the New York Times circa 2006 (yeah, a little late on the trend, I know) based on a recipe from Sullivan Street Bakery. What makes it so amazing is not only the fab crust and light spongy interior, but the fact that it is so easy to make - no tricky techniques, no fiddly stretching and massaging, countless knocking backs and folding. It is a dough that needs no kneading! And I can say that it is better than any of the breads I have made - it could easily be passed off as an artisan loaf from a master baker - seriously, it's that good.

Not-so Fat Tuesday Pancakes

When I was a child my favourite breakfast was pancakes with maple syrup. My mother made it for me every birthday. Her pancakes were thick and fluffy American style and she always served them with pure maple syrup. I loved smearing the little wedge of butter around the pancake, watching it slowly melt, then pouring the deep rich gold syrup (that comes from a tree!!) on top.

Love and beetroot soup

Sometimes love doesn't have to be said with champagne, chocolate and pale blue boxes from Tiffany. Sometimes love comes wrapped in butcher's paper, written on the back of an envelope, in bed with a cup of morning tea. Saying I love you is as simple as a bowl of soup. And as good for you too.

Lace skies, spelt cakes and new beginnings

It is deep in the heart of winter. The days are leeched of colour. I can rarely look up for fear of slipping but when I do, it is all black lace against the ashen face of sky.

There is a predictable pattern to my moods, I am not exalted I am not depressed, but it feels like I am waiting again. Waiting for inspiration, for energy, for a sense of purpose and epiphany. I don't ask for much.

The Coochie Island Canteen

The word coochie has some sexy connotations, of the feminine variety, but this post is named after an idylic island I have been internet stalking on Australia's real estate websites. It is just off the coast of Brisbane, Coochiemudlo Island, Coochie to the locals. It has a smattering of houses, where the local kids have to catch a ferry (free) to get to the mainland schools. It's beaches are perfect: white sand azure blue ocean no concrete promenades or hired umbrellas, just a backdrop of peeling gum trees, ants and blowies and dusty paths that turn to sand that snake from backyards to the sea.

Polenta on the run

Speaking of easy lunches (see last post), this plate of crunchy pesto polenta fingers with cherry tomatoes and parsley took about 5 minutes to make.

It tasted sublime - the polenta was a ready made one I bought exactly for this kind of day - when I had literally 10 minutes to make and eat lunch but felt like something warm and tasty. The mellow polenta was soft and unctuous, the pesto had browned crispy bits of pinenuts and cheese, it was sexy-oily but not greasy, the parsley and tomatoes cut clean through the fruity olive oil and salty pesto. It could make a good starter for a dinner party and is definitely on the menu of my virtual (one day maybe) cafe.

I sliced the polenta and fried it in a tablespoon of virgin olive oil and another tablespoon home-made pesto I had in the fridge. I cooked it till bits of pesto went crispy and some stuck to the polenta, turned the slices carefully and then added some quartered cherry tomatoes. I cooked further till the tomatoes had collapsed and released some juices. It didn't need salt as the pesto was well seasoned. Finish with that antiquated king of herbs - curly parsley.

I was alone, so I licked the plate.

Lunching on lentils in the holidays

During the holidays having people in the house every day - namely my husband and children - I have to think about lunch in a more formal way.

When alone, I usually rustle up some avocado toast or a biscuit and fruit. I rarely bother to actually make anything which involves excessive cutting or seasoning, mostly because I eat breakfast at 10 and only get hungry again around 2 and then it seems too close to dinner to make a fuss.