Spiralling Out Of Control

Image of spiraliser with courgette

I swore blind I wouldn’t buy a spiraliser. Who needs one, I sniffed to Him Outdoors, when we’ve got perfectly good knives/vegetable peelers/a mandolin. It’ll just gather dust at the back of a shelf, I said. Knowing my weakness for kitchen gadgets, he merely raised an eyebrow. Continue reading

Heart of Oak

“Heart of oak are our ships, hearts of oak are our men,” the song says. I don’t know whether our amazing builder James Pollard has a heart of oak but he’s certainly got a heart the size of a house.

He’s just crafted a custom-made chopping block for my new larder and although I can’t say it was a labour of love (his wife would kill me) it’s certainly a gesture of extreme friendship. Continue reading

Fast Food #5: Fish and Chips

Image of a young Mrs P and her dad at the seaside

Me and my Dad at the seaside, him channelling his Kirk Douglas look

Seaweedy swimming togs, sandy buckets and spades and wet towels. Your dad cleaning globs of tar off your feet with a rag dipped in petrol. Being stuck inside a gently steaming caravan with rain drumming on the roof, your siblings squabbling and your parents getting increasingly ratty, while you tried to stay between the lines in your colouring book with wax crayons that were too fat and clumsy and broke at the wrong moment.

You wouldn’t think it was possible to get that nostalgic about a family holiday on the east coast of England, where the weather was famously “bracing” when it wasn’t actually raining. Continue reading