allow me to tell you.

Where do I start?
Well, if you asked me this time last year, how I felt about being a responsible grown up and doing the whole starting a family thing, I might have laughed off sheepishly and quickly changed the subject. Just so I can avoid possible embarrassment of not necessarily feeling too maternal about the subject matter, and also in a slight fear that you might judge me, or categorise me into something which will only result in heated debate that I don't wish to get into. Because it is meant to be a very personal thing, right?

See, rewind the time back a few years, thinking about this whole baby thing, it was at the core of my relationship really. Whether it be with Toby, close friends, neighbours or even almost complete strangers, they will all quite happily and confidently ask me/Toby about the possible prospect of little baba of ours, assuming that we will, deliver one day.

I, over the past three years, thought long and hard about this little chicken.
Was I ready? Did we have enough financial security to afford a child? Was I physically and emotionally ready and fit enough go through this most mental changes in my life? And did I have any faith and hope in my dearest Toby to support me along the way and be my punch bag that I can hit hard, as and when I felt beaten up with the uncontrollable surge of hormones? Did we have enough room in our very grown up shack to accommodate the little chicken roaming freely around? Were we ready to love and coo over this non communicable little thing, just so we can allow it to be sick on our dry-clean-only tops, change their pooped nappies and wipe its enviously plump and soft bottom that will ultimately make me feel like 100 years old sack? Oh, lets not forget, I definitely was not ready to even think about life without WINE and our from time to time madly-in-love date nights where we can behave as wild and bad as we wish to feel each other to remind us who we are!
I mean the list of questions just goes on. 
The more I asked myself those questions, the more I tried to justify and find the reasons why the possible presence of chicken would be a negative attribute to my life.
Then there was people. You know, the ones that tell you 'oh, there never is right time, you just do it because that's what everyone else does.'. 
That, really, made me retaliate. Why would I ever put myself through this most biggest and greatest commitment in my life without having the clarity and confidence in decision making process? I lived my 34years of life being an absolute control freak(-ish), I wasn't going to change over night and suddenly adopt a just-go-with-the-flow mentality, because that's what everyone else does! 
I was so sure that one day, when the time is right, I will, for sure, know about it. I will be able to make the conscious decision to go a head to let my womb to be the home for our grain of rice, or not.

Let me tell you. 
That day did come. Like the lightbulb moment.
One day, I woke up and everything kind of started to make sense in my head. I revised my list of questions, had more serious discussions with Toby about pros and cons of our life dominated by chicken/s, and reached the verdict of 'Yes, we do want to put ourselves into many sleepless nights and we will find the joy in pooped nappies because we're here to reproduce, and we endorse the imminent need to start the Scott Empire before we face the limits of our frail infertile body clock. '. 
I suppose the fear of us two getting old on our own, the visions of Christmas in 30years time without children, and us staring at each other bickering over nothing because we're bored shitless definitely contributed huge part in my decision making process. And yes, there was number of weekends where Toby and I just stared the hell out of our empty hall way like two lost souls as we didn't have any plans nor the enthusiasm or will to do anything because it all felt a bit same old and meaningless.
But it was an advice from a good friend gave me the kick up the back side. 
She said 'you'll always doubt what life would be like with one and think I wish if I'd done it, if you don't do it. But if you do it, you'll never regret it.'.

Well, action speaks louder and we made many many endless attempts of try an error of exercising making chickens, of which I can tell you, for me it was not fun. It wasn't sexy and it was damn frustrating when unwelcome period visited me every month. This monstrous blooded witch made me feel very inadequate. Over 15 years of trying hard not to get pregnant, it was as if my body has just completely forgotten how to accommodate the wriggly worm. Peeing on the stick obsessively just so I know if my body was even doing what it suppose to do was getting tedious and I almost nearly gave up. 
Honestly, I learnt a lot about female body and have huge respect for our amazing human organism.
Then one day, and who knew that I could be in owe of the little digital stick that I just peed on, when the little plastic stick, really unexpectedly read I was 2-3 weeks pregnant, my heart raced and I cried, relieved that I, my body does bloody work!

So for the past 26 weeks or so, I have been quietly embracing the changes.
I've been learning about how my body functions as I create a comfortable home for our then grain of rice, now a rice cake; mochi. 
I demolished many bowls of spinach and lentils, craved a lot of sweet pastries and cakes, and ate more bread than I ever consumed in my entire life. I sweated over the sudden weight gain, and fret over the possibilities of double chin I hate to carry. I am getting used to my fat chubby feet and comfortably crack a joke about it as Toby cheekily offers to lend me his shoes. Feeling sick from time to time gave me a great comfort in a weird way. And most surprisingly, I am sort of enjoying my ever growing tummy.
My wardrobe is getting very limited, and yes, it does piss me off when people make a comment about how big or small my tummy is and poke it around a bit as if it is a public property. But nevertheless, it is, for sure, an incredibly wholesome experience that feels so warm and precious. 

Lemon Polenta Cake (Inspired by Lemon Syrup Cake by Nigel Slater)

for the cake
210g butter (room temperature)
210g vanilla caster sugar
50g almonds
50g pistachio nuts (plus some extra, toasted and finely chopped for topping)
3 eggs
125g ground almonds
150g ground polenta
1 tsp baking powder
1 orange juice and zest
pinch of salt

for the syrup
1 lemon juice and zest
1 lime juice and zest
1 orange juice and zest
250ml water
75g golden caster sugar
30ml limoncello

I came across this recipe quite a while back and successfully used time and time.
Original version is absolutely divine. It is very moist and lemon syrup cuts through the cake really nicely. I played it around few times and found pistachio gives really nice bite to the cake. Also kept the syrup a bit sharper with additional lime and less sugar.
The cake above was made with blood orange which gave beautiful colour and sweetness.
It makes a decent dessert served with nice dollop of saffron yogurt.

First of all, finely chop almonds and pistachio nuts using either food processor or knife.
Beat butter and sugar until light and fluffy in a large mixing bowl, and slowly whisk in the eggs one at the time making sure eggs mixed in thoroughly each time.
Add grounds almonds, chopped almonds and pistachio nuts into the egg mixture. Gently stir in the polenta, baking powder and pinch of salt along with juice and zest of orange.

Spoon the mixture into the lined cake tin, and bake for 25mins at 180º initially then for further 30mins or so at 160º.
If the cake is browning too quickly, cover the top with tin foil.
Check if the cake is baked through before taking it out of the oven. Depending on the depth of the cake tin, it may need little longer in the oven.

To make the syrup, pour all ingredients except limoncello into small sauce pan, and bring to boil. Keep bubbling at high temperature until the liquid has reduced to about 150ml. Remove from heat and add the liqueur.

When cake is ready, take it out of oven but keep them in the tin. Spike few holes, pour over the syrup, let it cool and top generously with chopped pistachio nuts.
Delicious.

So, what have you been up to?

a good helping hand.

When my mum rang me and asked if Toby and I would be able to put someone up in our spare bedroom, I hesitated.

Our spare bedroom was a tip. 
It was like a complete landfill stuffed with absolutely everything that had no use in anywhere else in our little flat, and to describe it as one could not even put a foot in it, was an understatement. 
We had already planned to do a car boot sale in an attempt to dispose some of the I-don't-know-where-this-belongs sort of useful stuffs, and to raise some much needed extra cash for those all things luxury that you may put it in your wish list on one of your favourite posh home goody sites. Consequently, to have somebody in that spare bedroom was neither imaginable nor convenient for us.
Our flat isn't small but very open plan. It does not have the ability to allow much of private space and too much of unexpected traffics up and down our narrow hall way or a bathroom will easily cause a jam. Any noise you will make, you will hear and any mess you make, you'll see.
We were still in the middle of our home renovation that never seemed to be kind enough to show us the end and I really didn't think it was doable.

To cut a long story short, after giving some thought to the subject matter, I remembered how tough it was when I first started off in this country all those years ago. Toby weighed out positives and negatives of the raised issue as he does and we both decided that we will put a roof over his head for a week because it is nice to be able to help out.

You see, the problem of this doing someone a favour, is often not everybody thinks the same way as you and not everyone is custom to function the way you do. And the compromise you have to make is much more than you'd ever anticipate.
I didn't like it when the toilet seat wasn't put down. I didn't find it amusing to discover lumps of cut or shaved hair blocking my bath. Seeing him doing the washing up, I was nervous for him and hoped he doesn't drop the plate and crack the sink because it would be embarrassing and awkward for all of us.
As much as I appreciated that he had all the good intentions to make sure that he does not interfere with our usual living and for sure, he did try to show his gratitude towards my cooking with many washing ups, I still found it very hard when things weren't quite how I would usually find.
And do you know what, I am sure it was pretty hard for him, too. As much as I did my best to offer him a home comfort and a good support, my honest opinions and my what you see is what you get sort of approach in expressing likes and dislikes aren't always the easiest things to put up with.

I think it was quite tricky because we were making compromises of our very personal space. 
Admittedly, I suppose it didn't help that I have mild OCD. It definitely didn't help that I prefer things to be just so. Oh, come on, it took Toby over eight and a half years to master the art of living with me! Yes, I know, poor boy.
I knew it was going to be a bit uncomfortable but didn't really realise the scale of it all.
I guess we don't often have to allow other people to enter our private spaces except your own family.
And I suppose, with family, perhaps we generate natural ability to accept and welcome the differences.

But you know what, the funnest thing was, and this is to my surprise, when he left eventually after finding the sanctuary of his own that he can call home for the next 10 months of his stay in London, I felt a bit sad. 
Our little flat seemed so big and so empty. I could almost picture the spot he used to stand and the stuff he used to do in his funny little odd way. 
I think I kind of enjoyed his company to an extent. I think it sort of felt good knowing that I was looking after someone, making a good use of my little self.

Anyway, talking about family, I wanted to share our holiday photos from Bordeaux.
Toby's dad and step mum kindly invited to us to this beautiful farmhouse in Chateau Bauduc, which is run by Gavin and Angela. 
The house is very spacious and well looked after, provided with everything you need. It has perfectly functioning kitchen and a smashing barbecue for you to cook up some amazing fresh produce from the local food market. 
Gavin's passion and exceptional knowledge in wine, and Angela's kind and caring personality really makes this place special. Obviously there's always plenty of good wine to be consumed, too.

I'd highly recommend it.

Plum and Apple Crumble with proper English custard
serves generously for 6

for the crumble 900g mixture of plum and apple, roughly chopped
100g plain flour
50g ground almond
25g almond shavings
125g butter, cubed and at room temperature
70g demerara sugar + 1tbsp
1tsp ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp ground clove (optional)
handful of porridge oats

for the custard
250ml full fat milk
250ml fresh double cream
4 egg yokes
3tbsp caster sugar
1 vanilla bean, seed scraped and pod kept

Our amazing little niece R, was one of the best highlight of our holiday in Bordeaux and my little helper loves cooking and baking. Although she has to stand up on the chair and make an effort to carefully balance herself not to fall, she really enjoyed the process of making this crumble.
I couldn't help myself feeling all warm and fuzzy watching R baking for all of us with her little fingers.

This crumble recipe originally comes from the article in Guardian 'How to make perfect crumble'. I have fiddled around a little and although original recipe states it serves 4, I found it is enough for 6, quite easily.

First of all, make your crumbly toppings. Put flour, ground almond, ground cinnamon and butter into a large bowl and rub them until it resembles breadcrumbs. Stir in the sugar except 1tbsp which is for your fruit mixture. Let it cool in the fridge for few mins.

Into your baking dish, put your fruit mixture along with 1tbsp sugar and clove if using. Place the crumble topping on top of the fruit and gently fork them to break them up a little bit.
Sprinkle with some porridge oats and almond shavings.
Bake them for 35mins or until golden at 200º.

For the custard, I swear by Jamie Oliver's recipe. It always worked wonderfully and tastes really good. If you find it difficult to source double cream, just use 500ml full fat milk.

Start by putting milk, cream, vanilla seed, pod and 2tbsp sugar into the small sauce pan and warm them up over medium to low heat. Make sure not to boil them.
When the bubble starts to surface up, take it off the heat and let it cool down a little to infuse the vanilla flavour.

Whisk the egg yokes with 1tbsp sugar until pale and fluffy.

Take the vanilla pod out from the cream mixture. Slowly add the ladleful of the cream mixture into the eggs while continuously whisking. You only want to add the ladleful each time. If you pour it all at once because you can't be patient, the high temperature of the cream will make the eggs curdle. So spend your time.
Once all cream mixture is added to the egg yokes, put them back into the sauce pan and cook them gently over the medium heat, stirring constantly until the custard lightly coats the back of the wooden spoon.
When it is ready, sieve it through and serve warm with your crumble.

This is an ultimate comfort food that deserves a gold medal.

After a week turned into 11 days of eventful experience with our lodger, I received an email from him. Named to both Toby and I, he thanked us for taking a good care of him.

I'm glad we all did mean well.

a lovely thing.

I think I have told you before that, I love changing season.

When the leaves start to turn into deep golden amber, when the morning feels a little chillier, and the evening becomes sharp and crisp that makes you hunger for the warmth of home, you know that you're in the middle of welcoming the changing season of autumn.

I made a fuss of clearing up the wardrobe that has been in need of ruthless attention for a while. Toby has been busy around the flat trying to finish off the last bits of our never ending home renovation.

We've turned the heating back on and lit the candles for cosy nights. We put the jumpers on and cuddle up a little bit closer for the comfort of our silly souls.

Nothing much else is happening other than being as still as we could be to enjoy this lovely blue thing; the autumn, that seems so full and so empty.

How is your changing season?

Victoria sponge cake

for the cake

225g self raising flour

225g golden caster sugar

225g softened butter

4 large eggs, room temperature

2tsp baking powder

1 vanilla pod

1 lemon zest

pinch of salt

for the filling

jam of your choice

whipped double cream (optional)

fresh fruit of your choice (optional)

I don't think I need to tell you much about Victoria sponge cake. Everybody knows how simple it is to make it and how wonderful it is to taste it.

I'm not sure if there is any other cake that can beat freshly baked Victoria sponge cake, straight out from the oven, served still warm with a nice cup of tea, on a rainy day like today.

The basic is simple. 

You mix equal amount of fat, sugar, eggs and flour.

Start by fluffing up the softened butter with sugar. Gradually add the eggs and whisk to mix.

Shift the flour and baking powder into the egg mixture. Add pinch of salt, lemon zest and vanilla seeds scraped from the pod then fold in gently to incorporate, making sure not to over mix.

Divide the cake mixture into two lined cake tins and bake them in the oven for 25-35mins or until golden at 180º.

You could just use one cake tin that is deep enough to hold the entire cake mixture then just cut them in half later. In which case, you'll have to bake the cake for little longer.

Once the cakes are baked, take them out of the oven and rest them on the cooling rack.

When the cakes are slightly cooled down, sandwich them together with your choice of fillings.

I used homemade rhubarb and strawberry jam, whipped double cream and some fresh strawberries.

I think the beauty of this cake is that it can be as simple or as complicated as you like and the flavour combinations that you can work with are vast.

I often use vanilla butter cream instead of fresh whipped cream. Lemon curd would be lovely too. 

Get creative and enjoy!

Oh, by the way, Toby's new website is now up and running and it needs a little attention from all of you lovely foodies our there. 

Please check out on www.tobyscottphotography.com.

an appreciation.

I nervously entered the exam room.
So clearly conscious about the fact that, this was going to be, arguably one of the most important moment of my life, I shivered. The spine tingling shiver was beautifully orchestrated with equal part of fear and excitement, and travelled deep down into my blood stream. 
I felt sick. A vague awareness of the possible success was the notion that I tried to remember to suppress the wet saliva hitting the back of my throat. The waves of emotions that came and went without warning was the only driving force of this significant moment that I just wanted to get over and done with.
And luckily, I passed the test.


I couldn't possibly tell you how I felt.
Driving back to work that morning, I cried, I laughed, then I cried, laughed again and I sighed; a sigh of relief that it was all over, at least, for now.

I wanted to thank Toby that day.
Not because he spent all his evening rustling up fresh pasta on the table that particular day, but for feeding my sensitive soul with comfort and lending me a huge place that I call shelter in his heart for all these years.
Not for the bunch of flowers that put a smile on my face that particular moment, but for his beautiful thoughts that makes me blossom every day in day out. Not because he cheered a glass of champagne with me late into that night, but for waking up each and every morning with such an endearing faith of believing in me.


I want to thank him for all those little kind gestures of everydayness that makes me feel privileged, alive and most importantly, loved.

Beetroot and Chocolate cake (adapted from Abel and Cole Recipe Ideas)


for cake
200g beetroot
125g plain flour
15g powdered ginger
1 1/2 tsp baking powder
150g caster sugar
200g olive spread, room temperature
3 eggs, separated
150g dark chocolate, grated
1 zest of orange
pinch of salt 


for sour cream frosting
120g dark chocolate
1 tsp instant coffee
175g sour cream
30g coco powder
30g icing sugar
50ml creme de cassis


This is a cake for chocolate lovers. The surprising ingredient, beetroot helps to moisten the texture of cake to another level and the rich dark chocolate sour cream frosting gives you the most luxurious velvety richness. This is a proper afternoon tea time cake.


Prepare your beetroots first by peeling them. Chop them up in small squares so it doesn't take you too long to cook them and put them in the sauce pan with some water to cover with a little pinch of salt. Cook them for around an hour or until tender enough to Pierce the fork through. Drain them and whizz them up in food processor to make smooth puree.


Preheat the oven to 190º.
Cream the olive spread and sugar until pale and fluffy then slowly add the egg york little at the time. Now shift all of your dry ingredients (flour, powdered ginger and baking powder) into the creamed mixture and fold them carefully.
Whisk the egg whites until they are stiff like meringue. Spoon the egg whites, about one third of it, into the flour mixture and fold gently. Continue folding in the egg whites until they are all mixed well.
Now add beetroot puree, grated chocolate, pinch of salt and zest of orange. Stir in carefully.
Use greased and lined cake tin and bake them for about 50mins.


Meanwhile make the sour cream frosting by melting the chocolate over barely simmering water with coffee. Once all melted, set aside to cool.
Mix in all ingredients to melted chocolate and beat them until they are smooth spreadable consistency.


When cake is done, cool them down before transferring.
Cut the cake in half in the middle and spread some frosting like sponge sandwiches. Place the top part carefully and spread the rest of frosting generously. By doing so, you'll get layers of lovely textures when you bite into it.

And eight years on, this journey of our life together, for what it is worth, is quite beautiful.

due to high volume of calls, unfortunately we can't answer your calls right now. please try again later.

Okay, I am not going to mess about here. Because, messing about and going round the bushes to avoid the point; the subject matter, seems to be the only thing that I am experiencing right now and I don't like it. 
So I'll talk to you straight to the point. Bish bash bosh and done!


As you might already know, Toby and I have been and we most probably will be, busy, for the last six months and the following six months or so, or more, in an attempt to make that wonderful dream home. Usually, most of our weekends disappear in a blink of an eye and we don't often get to sit down and do nothing or do what we enjoy. 
So, last few weekends, I deliberately made a conscious decision that I would like to sit down, be a little lazy and do what I love the most. That little luxury of my own enjoyment; nothing fancy, nothing expensive, nothing extravagant, nothing special, but one thing that I enjoy the most on Sundays that I hadn't been able to do for so long; READING MY SUNDAY PAPER.


Since I love reading, I get my Sunday papers delivered to the door which makes my life so much easier, thanks to the wonderful delivery service. Every Sunday morning, I'd get up, get my paper and Toby will make some coffee. We sit on our sofa, sip strong cups of coffee and plan our day. I might scan through the papers quickly while talking if I fancy or I might save them for later.
Last few Sundays ago, my plan to just read failed due to the weather. 
The snow had caused a delay in the depot and delivery couldn't be made unfortunately. 
I understood that. So I walked to my local shop and got my own, myself. I had wet feet, was freezing cold and had put on some trampy look with snotty nose, but understood that the trouble couldn't have been avoided.


Today, actually yesterday now, I again planned, I really would like to just sit down and do nothing but read. 
I hoped that I will have nice relaxing Sunday, just the way as we would have enjoyed in the old flat when things didn't need all that DIY jazz.
It started off just so. 
We had nice cups of coffee, enjoyed cooked breakfast and shared some civilised conversations. But guess what? Well I am missing my paper, AGAIN.


I just don't get it. 
So there I was, going ''now what?''. 
I can't possibly think of any reasons why the paper wouldn't make it to my door. Is it, a) blown away with wind, b) taken by the man who couldn't be bothered to get to the shop, c) no paper was printed because staff wanted have lazy Sunday like me or d) none of these but just some technical fault?
So I find the number to make fuss about my disappointment. I got to the old emails, found the number to call, reached the phone and made that important call to offload my dissatisfaction of guaranteed service that didn't happen.
Oh, guess what? Now my phone is not working. 
I don't have outgoing tones nor incoming tones, although the area shows a good service connections, but for some reason my landline is experiencing some problems, that cannot be solved right now at this second when I needed the most, so I can find out what kind of problem the newspaper delivery company was experiencing. But neither of these can be happening because they are all currently out of order!
And that is all.

Rhubarb and Ginger beer jelly with ginger syllabub


for jelly
400g rhubarb, chopped roughly
2tbsp caster sugar
2inch stem ginger, chopped
1 orange zest and juice
400ml ginger beer
6 gelatine sheets, soaked in cold water then drained


for syllabub
1tbsp caster sugar
1tbsp stem ginger syrup
60ml medium white wine
30ml Cointreau
some lemon and orange rind
thin slice of root ginger
some double cream


for garnish
some Amaretti biscuits, broken up


This is gorgeously light jelly that will bring your dinner to the fine end. 
Sharp rhubarb flavour is clearly there with gingery tang, and cream brings the whole thing together with a little nutty bite from the Amaretti biscuits.


To make jelly, start by mixing rhubarb, sugar, ginger and orange zest in the oven proof dish. Roast them for about 25mins or until tender at 160º. When cooked, cool them down a little. Blitz your rhubarb mixture in the food processor until smooth and push it through the sieve. This is the most fiddly part of this recipe but this will ensure lighter, clearer and smoother finish of jelly. Obviously if you don't have time or patience to do this, that is fine too.
Now warm up about 100ml ginger beer and whisk in the gelatine sheets until dissolved. 
Pour in the gelatine mixture into the rhubarb liquid which should make about 300ml and the rest of ginger beer.
Divide them into either big jelly mould or individual glasses and leave them to set in the fridge.


To make ginger syllabub, mix in all ingredients except cream. Leave this mixture for 24hours to infuse the flavour into the booze. 
Long while ago I discovered Heston Blumenthal's trifle recipe and highly recommend this method as it gives good mellow background flavour to the cream. 
Whisk double cream lightly and add this boozy mixture into the cream.


When jelly is set, spoon the syllabub over jelly (or you can use piping bag like I did here) and sprinkle some Amaretti biscuits.

Obviously problems can happen and things could go wrong. And yes, although I might have sounded like a grumpy cow but when reasons are explained, I will appreciate it. I promise.
Oh, and I want you to know, I feel better now.

off we go.

We are packing. 

And packing and packing then some more, packing.

Covered in dirt and breathing in and through our collections of past eight years of dust, it is not that fun. Wrapping up plates and glasses with my precious Sunday Times, I am observing every inch of their past articles through my body making my subscription worthwhile, quite literally. The reminiscence of our historic items of clutter hits us hard on the head, which makes us realise we, perhaps, were totally deluded thinking we were junk free.

Who knows why I kept the pair of trainers that had its backs almost disintegrated. Who knows why those endless piles of magazines were dominating underneath of our coffee table.

I wonder of all things past and look around.

Packing our belongs for new home, I am unpacking our past. History of our seven and a half years of time together in this little flat that we called home, sweet home.

I wonder...

Would this place be just as good home to the next person in charge?

Tangy Lemon Tart

Oops! 

Apologies to dear readers. I concentrated on packing so much I have packed my recipe book.

Sorry everyone. I'll update it with the recipe soon as I unpack.

Almost, all set.

Seven years on,

I must tell you, I am very lucky.

Very very lucky to be part of family who is so loving and caring, who always welcomes me with open arms and kind heart.

There has been some tough times though.

Being broken hearted and full of uncertainties of the future ahead of me, I wasn't all there when I first met Toby. 

We fought with frustration. 

We screamed. 

We hit the brick walls trying hard to understand our differences. 

We cried desperately wanting it to work. 

We cried desperately for our lost spirits, hoping that we could be there for each other.

I cannot believe we are still together, you know.

Still, to these date, I often pinch myself thinking, gosh... we came this far.

Along the way though, we had, and very luckily so, a family, the unit who wasn't afraid to tell us, guide us and fix us to find our way.

They were there to support us, but never shy to shout at us to teach us that understanding was only ever meant to be through the loving heart, NOT through the calculated head.

Seven years has gone by with many tears, we laugh.

We cry with laughter knowing we've come far. 

From selfish little creatures to those who inspires each other to make better of ourselves, I guess we have come far.

I guess we have grown strong.

I guess we have learnt to love the way we are.

The Ledbury inspired bloody orange vodka sorbet with rosewater and lychee

1pint of blood orange juice (about 8 medium oranges)

100g sugar

150g lychee (I use tined)

50ml rosewater

50ml vodka

handful of mint

Place blood orange juice, sugar and rosewater into the medium sauce pan and simmer them until sugar is dissolved.

You now add lychee, vodka and springs of mint to the pan and blend them until smooth.

Pass them through sieve and put them in the freezer safe container and freeze.

After the first hour, take it out from the freezer and give it a good whisk and freeze it again for another hour. Give it a good stir or whisk again and agin every now and then.

But if you've just enjoyed too many glasses of wine and forgot about it all until the next morning like I have done this time, don't panic.

Just break the sorbet into reasonable pieces and put them in the blender and blitz them until it breaks down and forms smoother consistency.

Put them back in the freezer till you need them.

Great amuse buche or light cleansing dessert.

Martini stirred not shaken

Click here to see how it is done.

Everyone wants to be recognised...

getting on

I have been looking forward to this.
It must have been about three times that we tried.

Don't be silly, not what you're thinking.
We've been trying to organise this little soiree to celebrate their new home.

About 6 months ago, my dear friend P announced two things that excited me.
One, he's moving into town and two, that will be with his girlfriend J.
I mean, man's decision to move in with his girlfriend isn't something to be heard lightly, is it?
I think I was excited just for the sheer fact of knowing, there was a man who could possible make such a decision with genuine consciousness actually existed! Hooray!!

Last night, we finally hooked up.

Beautifully respected space, inch perfect shelvings, precisely arranged array of literature on places, spaces and living, and a gorgeous vintage green leather sofa accompanied by amazing smells of slow cooked lamb mingling with herbs and spices, I didn't expect anything less from these smart cookies.
We stayed overnight.

We decided to take an advantage of their neighbourhood.
Nice brisk walk to Sunday flower market in Columbia Road and a delightful breakfast at Leila's shop, I couldn't have asked for the better way of being in a good company.

We talk... about Danish designs, good coffee and of course... pancakes.

Pancakes with rosewater blueberry compote


for pancakes
110g plain flour, shifted
220g milk
2 eggs, lightly beaten
pinch of salt
pinch of sugar
some butter


for rosewater blueberry compote
150g blueberries (plus little more to garnish)
25g vanilla sugar (you can use ordinary sugar if you want)
1tbsp rosewater
1 lemon zest
1/2 lemon juice
25ml water



First of all, make your batter by mixing flour, milk, eggs, salt and sugar. Whisk them well but gently and set a side to rest.

To make your compote, place all ingredients in a small sauce pan over medium heat. Let them bubble away until they thicken and form a syrup like consistency.

Now, making the pancakes, make sure your frying pan is hot but not sizzling. Melt some butter and pour the batter, coat the pan thinly by moving the pan constantly. Let them cook through and flip or turn them to cook the other side.
Serve them warm with rosewater blueberry compote, little more zest of lemon and some icing sugar.
But, like many other things, enjoy them however you like.

Wonderful weekend.
Thanks P and J, you lovely people.