“I owe you a letter” I said.

We were exchanging sad, frustrated messages, about climate change. This has been a summer of extreme heat across Europe – burning mountains and moors, empty reservoirs, record-breaking temperatures.

“Don’t ever feel you owe me a letter,” she replied.

She was right, of course. I’d expressed myself poorly. What I’d meant by “I owe you a letter” was actually “I loved receiving and reading your letter. I’m looking forward to finding an evening soon when I can sit down and take the time to write one in return.” Continue reading →

Oh bread.

Lovely, lovely bread. How I miss you.

Hot, buttery toast, with a slick layer of Marmite floating on the surface. Crusty hunks of sourdough, topped with curls of unsalted French butter. Pulled pork with ‘slaw and barbecue sauce in a big soft bap. Floaty white boats in a bowl of tomato soup. Chip butty with ketchup as a dirty treat when DorkyDad is away on a work trip. Wholemeal pitta, stuffed with cream cheese and avocado, and if I’m feeling fancy then some chopped up pepperoncini or za’atar sprinkled in among it. Continue reading →

I realised the other night, as I was waiting for Nagi Maehashi’s Vietnamese pork dish to caramelise and singing a London Grammar song into my spatula, that both of my last two blog posts have mentioned music.

It felt like a sign. Time for my music and snobbery piece to break free of the drafts folder, expand beyond its initial brief, and become a celebration of music in all its forms.

Because there has always been a hierarchy in music – a sense that some bands are cool and others deeply uncool. I have spent most of my life cheerfully on the wrong side of that divide.

And honestly? I think I’ve had more fun because of it.

Continue reading →