Slice a cross in the base of each tomato.Ģ. Fill your pan with water, and put it on to boil.
Generous pinch of flaky sea salt and black pepperġ. Photograph: Kate Young of The Little Library Café Linguine alla ceccaġ garlic clove, squashed with the side of a knife Ive made toasted cheese sandwiches with hot lime pickle, chopped root vegetables for the simplest possible soup, and endless bowls of pasta. And so, for the past week, I’ve been putting no pressure on it at all. This is frustrating I love cooking, and have since I was a child. I have been working on a cookbook for so long now that standing in front of a hob has a tendency to feel like work. Once the sun sets, and the need to switch the lamps on alerts me to the time, I head downstairs to the kitchen. I have given myself a month out of London – a writer’s retreat, of sorts – and have so far spent it looking out the window at the furious storms that arrive without warning over the valley, making endless cups of tea, running up and down steep hills and trying to write. Neighbours drop round to ask for cooking advice, or to drop off fruit they’ve just picked. After almost two years cooking for a family as their nanny, I have rented a room in a friend’s house in the Cotswolds.
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