A tangle of inky black tagliatelle
The first rule of getting married is: don’t talk about getting married.
Ok, I’ll rephrase. Do talk about it to a select few people, suppliers for example, without whom the big day is pretty unlikely to even happen at all. Talk about it with enthusiastic friends and family, people you’ve not seen in a while or as a subject to fill that awkward moment when you’re stuck somewhere like a lift with a stranger and need to make small talk. But don’t talk about getting married to excess. Continue reading
Charcoal coloured bread is offset by a pat of bright harissa-spiked butter
Black. Not a colour we necessarily associate with wonderful food. Especially those of us who are keen bakers where, unless you’re talking black treacle, black bottomed cupcakes or black cherries (of which I’d argue the latter are really brown and purple respectively), black tends to signify something that has been in the oven too long; in other words burnt.
Try to think of a black food and you’re likely to conjure one of two ends of the culinary spectrum. In the losing category come the burnt items; over baked bread, lasagne left in the oven too long, black bits of onion in a pan that should be caramelized or the singed tips of an otherwise snow-white meringue. At the other end of the scale, black seems to signify something altogether more luxurious; tiny pearls of caviar, dusky black truffle, exotic black garlic or the supposed aphrodisiac qualities of a stick of licorice. Continue reading