Apparently it is possible to have too much of a good thing. I’ve had plenty of opportunities to blog over the last fortnight, yet have not felt the inclination to do so. On arriving back at my mother’s home I made a beeline for the kitchen and immediately donned my apron. Unpacking could wait. An immense about of cooking ensued over the following days, with three dishes on the first evening alone. After twelve weeks of virtually being starved of all forms of cooking it was bliss to be back in the kitchen. However, spending nigh on a week relentlessly stirring, chopping, whipping, icing, baking, boiling and photographing takes it’s toll. In an I-don’t-want-to-even-think-about-food kind of way. Now that my friends is a rare occasion. Continue reading
