Once upon a time, I turned thirty years old. I threw a party, put on a dress and revelled in the fact that thirty, it really is the new twenty-one. I mean, my spritely youthfulness, doesn’t it just eminate from this blog? All that life! love! colour! BAH. What am I talking about. I spotted three grey hairs the other morning and another one yesterday. Life starts at thirty if by “life” you mean “researching geriatric wards”.
But who am I to complain? When I turned thirty, my friends gave me some most awesomeness foodie presents, from gorgeous le creuset pots to adorable silicone cupcake cups and of course, cook books. From the moment I laid eyes on it, the Hummingbird Bakery cookbook had my heart ~ the scrumptious cakes, slices and all things sweet, what was I to do? I hadn’t the will to fight, what with frosting… all that frosting… and more sweet sweet.. frosting.
Wait a minute, is this post even about the Hummingbird? I don’t think it is.
Ok, focus.
So after four months of monogamy to the one cookbook I will utterly love forever, I’ve managed to unearth the dozens of other cookbooks I received and lookie here! Another gem! Not quite sweet, no frosting in sight, but a legend in its own God-given right: the Ottolenghi cookbook.
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