a cook who writes
In the autumn of 1965 I sat at the...
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Blackberry & Apple Pancakes In pie,...
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My little pear tree (Doyenné du Comice)...
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This is the point in the year when...
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Next to the window in my dressing room...
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At the end of the garden, through the...
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Survivor You can throw torrential rain,...
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Still sitting quietly at my desk,...
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Greetings from my desk The pandemic has...
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Deepest summer, which for me will always...
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Here snd there amongst the dark ivy, yew...
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Overnight, several clusters of mushrooms...
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A good white rose The climbing City of...
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The kitchen remains unusually quiet this...
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Wisteria Chinensis and an old French...
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Summer feels a little late this year...
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The window boxes have been enjoying the...
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We call this tiny place The Middle...
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Welcome rain The gardens are glowing...
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Not quite finished yet - and as usual, I...
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Early morning light, sitting at the...
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A wicker planter of wallflowers and...
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We have eaten a good half-dozen lunches...
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The little pear tree outside the kitchen...
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