What are the noises that immediately place you in front of your favourite meal? What are the sounds of life unfolding? As I touch on in my latest book, Hark, I was raised on an auditory diet of James Taylor, The Archers and the sounds of my siblings and parents - plus meals summoned from, variously, Delia Smith, Nigella Lawson, Jamie Oliver and
. My house is made of different and similar sounds, and an awful lot of recipes. I love the flavours she brings to our table. I love that my copies of her books are covered in splatters and have tatty spines and little pencil notes in the margins. And so I loved speaking with her - about Hark, and listening, but also about kitchen sounds and cooking noises and how her brain felt about food before and after having children. I also loved hearing about what she had planned for her “simple” lunch. You can delight in all of this above - and you can buy Hark here.
Hello, Friday!
I’ve been feeling *some guilt* about the absence of Wednesday’s traditional letter. I’ve always taken pride in the solid reliability of the delivery of savour: Wednesday lunchtimes, without fail, with the exception of the Wednesday in which I gave birth.
But life has been unruly lately. Tour knocked it out of me more than I realised (it always does); I’ve fallen for a new writing project with a wild zeal; I’ve released 10 podcast episodes in four weeks (if you’re late to the party, check out
for books, writing and real life, and Why Women Grow for intimate stories of gardening and womanhood) and been off and about recording even more of them (the best days, always).But before our chat yesteday,
was kind enough to tell me that people are forgiving enough to not really mind when an expected post doesn’t turn up. And while I do feel similar - if not greater - levels of guilt about not delivering a savourites, my round-ups of tasty morsels from the week/month/season/indeterminate period of time between the two, I thought that perhaps I should just summon one up anyway.Here’s to doing things because they feel right - and other good things of late:
tasty morsels
pudding gatecrasher
Four books in and while I’ve been lucky enough to have many good publishing meals, I’ve never had a publication day lunch. Imagine, then, how chuffed I was to be invited to the final course of beloved pal and
co-host ’s, which was unfolding at St John (one of my favourites) - and just in time to order pudding. I insisted on a plate of the madeleines for everyone, because everyone needs pub day carb, especially if they are 37 weeks pregnant. Char’s book, Bring the House Down, is supremely clever and even funnier than that. I strongly recommend you buy it so it can be the best part of the holiday you may be going on.guttering toddler hack
I have a very active child and I live in a city where there are many things to do. This means we rarely stay within the confines of our flat; in fact we both get a bit fearful and aggy if we do. Last Friday was one of those days where nearly everything went wrong but what went right was spending a tenner on two metres of guttering in the DIY shop which my son could then push small cars / rubber ducks / pour small vessels of water down while I inhaled deeply in the corner.
cornclave
OK so forgive me if you’ve seen the Instagram stories but I went to the Lambeth Country Show on the weekend and for non-South Londoners that is a version of a typical English country show (animals being judged for spurious standards of inbreeding, produce being judged for spurious standards of inbreeding, fairground rides of dubious safety) only in Brixton, and therefore with reggae and jerk chicken. It’s always brilliant and there’s usually the promise of rain. After a dozen years of spotty attendance we decided to wait the 57 minutes to get into the tent to bear witness to the vegetable sculptures and they did not disappoint. This is one of three dioramas dedicated to the Papal conclave:
humpty
About six months ago
wrote the GOAT of present idea lists for children which included a really charming story about a rubber egg named Dave. I encourage you to read it. Anyway the egg stuck with me and so when presented with the opportunity I bought one for my son, who immediately christened it Humpty, and has become really quite enamoured with it. For 24 hours this week we lost Humpty and I found him under his cot mattress (not to sound smug but our toys are relatively scant and ordered - for now). I just take a lot of pleasure from having a realistic-looking, well-named rubber egg around the house, so sue me.to read
As someone trying to flog one at the moment, this was somehow strangely comforting. I love
’s insights into bookselling, and this was no different.One of the four books I’ve got on the go at the moment (I said life was unruly) but a sweet portrayal of a certain kind of millennial domesticity.
to watch and listen to
Why Women Grow: The French Life
Yes! Another season of the Why Women Grow podcast! This time, in Provence, with stories of regenerative vineyards, starting again from scratch, art, grief, love and persistence. It’s the southern France minibreak your ears never knew they needed.
This time last year I spoke with
about the weird taboos over women having the temerity (!) to write or do whatever work they want around having a small baby. It’s been really validating to hear it’s been helpful for people.race across the world
Just very nice TV that inspires wanderlust and feelings when you think you’re too tired for either.
to eat and drink
summah
‘Tis the season for British strawberries and Mars Bar ice creams. I don’t make the rules.
marmite toast
My son’s newest discovery and who am I to deny him! (It’s a divisive spread in this household, but I’m proud to say I am a lover).
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