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If you stumbled across this blog hoping for tips on creating the finest in cakery cuisine, I’m afraid I must disappoint. The things I am not good at include, to my sorrow, almost anything that goes on in the kitchen. The best meals in my repertoire include potatoes and Yorkshire puddings, thanks to a solid Bradfordian upbringing. Washing up horrifies me. And cleaning the oven is a task exclusively reserved for my stalwart Other Half, who also heroically takes on the role of Chief Eater of Experimental Cooking.
However, here is what I know. Desserts make everyone happy, especially me. People are less likely to be underwhelmed by my stone-faced lasagne if I whip a sticky chocolatey something out of the oven immediately afterwards. And, crucially, practise makes perfect. Or at least better. Or edible, even; I’d settle for that.
Come with me on a journey through sugars, vanilla essence, and with any luck, not blowing up the kitchen. If it works or if it doesn’t, I’ll put it on here. In my rosy-visioned future I am hailed by all as Queen of Desserts, although on reflection this seems a little ambitious, so I’m going for Countess instead (this also raises the interesting possibility of wearing a cloak, which I will not dismiss at the moment).