Author: Alice

18 June

It began in January. An idea that bubbled up on a murky weekday evening and refused to go away. Dom and I were driving through town, talking about hot Italian summers and the trappings of a 9-5 job, when we came to it. “Why don’t we just leave it all? Move abroad, write for a living”, I half joked. Dom was silent for a while. “Ok.” Then we went into the supermarket and schemed, with trepidation at first, like two people planning what they’d buy with a winning lottery ticket. We’d get a van, we told ourselves. Then we’d spend the summer in Europe – oh, could we get a dog? – yes, alright. We’d spend half our time writing, the other half eating, travelling, living. Over the next few weeks, the idea morphed, and as it did it became a real thing. Instead of the van we decided to rent an apartment for the winter in Sicily. And in the spring we’d travel to Japan, Canada, New Zealand. All the places we’d wanted to Read More

cauliflower steaks

Spice-Rubbed Cauliflower Steaks

Hello 2017 – and hello to all of you – sorry I’m horribly late. Everything’s gone by so quickly – Christmas, New Year, delicious food – and I’ve let them slip away because, with time, the thought of recording them all has become more and more tiresome. A job for a long afternoon of nothingness, and how often do those come about? Anyway, I’m now on a train on my way home from London and I feel the urge to write. Not quite a long afternoon, but it’ll do. I know the middle of January is hardly the time for yearly reviews, but I do want to talk a bit about my 2016 (wow, doesn’t that seem a while ago?). Now contrary to popular opinion, I liked 2016. Political strife and numerous celebrity deaths aside, it was actually quite good, and without sounding too unbearable, I think I might have learned some important things. Here they are: 9-5 (who am I kidding – 9-6) jobs are, for the most part, intolerably shit. Well, in any case I’ve Read More

December 21

In the days since we last spoke I’ve taken my last trip to London for the year. I’ve also eaten all the mince pies and decided that in the New Year I will be a svelte fitness queen. I’ve written my Christmas cards while listening to carols from King’s. I’ve come down with a wretched cold. I haven’t done my tax return yet. I’ve driven – or rather Dom’s driven – to Cheshire, and we’ve wandered through the dark cloisters of Chester cathedral. I’ve explored the city walls, heavy with fog, silent except for the rush of the weir. I’ve waited, with family, for a 9pm table reservation at the Chef’s Table. A tiny restaurant, tucked away in the old alleys of Chester – enough room for 24. The food unbelievably good. Marinated quail, served with clementine, chicory and spiced nuts. Then a Christmas dinner of duck – duck breast, duck stuffing, duck sausages. And yes, I’ve put down my knife and fork every so often and sighed. And all that, (minus the tax return, and the cold), is Read More