This time last year I’d just signed a cookbook deal with my publisher, Orion. I had an enthusiastic editor, a slightly scary deadline and a rough proposal consisting of 100 recipes – some of which I could make with my eyes closed, most of which I’d only tasted in my dreams. Thousands of words, dozens of kilos of butter, sugar, cream and chocolate and countless sleepless nights later, I’m slightly speechless to confirm that I DID IT!!! Continue reading
Are you bored of these photoshoot updates yet? I couldn’t resist sneaking in a few final pictures from the week just gone. So that’s a wrap, the final Homemade Memories photograph has been taken, the last prop carefully washed up, crumbs cleared away and leftovers distributed to my nearest, dearest and hungriest. On Thursday I got the first round of printed pages to proof read and this weekend just gone – in between packing up our whole flat and moving in with my parents for renovation work to begin (phew!) – I set to work on marking up those final little amends.
While I don’t have a new recipe for you this week, what I do have is a little insight into what I’ve been up to during my absence from this space. Last week we spent four days shooting the first set of photographs for The Little Loaf: Homemade Memories (my first cookbook (!), coming out next year). With four photoshoot days down and six to go, I’m by no means any kind of expert, but am learning a lot, fast, so I thought it would be fun to share a few photos, insights, observations and general excitement about the whole process. Continue reading
My first book deadline is just a couple of weeks away and my fridge and freezer are groaning with food, my recipes are out with an army of testers and I’m finalising the ingredients and anecdotes in every spare moment. For those of you who don’t follow me on Instagram, here’s a sneak preview of some of what I’ve been working on. Continue reading
Ever since I was tiny, I’ve loved to write. Before I was old enough to be left in the house on my own during school holidays, my Mum would take with me with her to the office. She’d sit me at a computer (one of those ancient black screens with a flashing cursor, I’m turning 30 this year and I fear it’s beginning to show) and the day would be spent writing stories, lost in my own little world and limited only by my imagination. Continue reading