Artichoke Bruschetta

Having passed my viva in November, I'm turning over a new leaf - or perhaps simply reclaiming old habits - to discuss good tucker again! Which starts with what's in my fridge at the moment: artichokes. I could eat them by the bucketload. I stare enviously at them in WholeFoods and other supermarkets I can't afford. I sometimes pick them up and wonder what life would be like if I could casually splash out and lay down big bucks for these crinkly green beauties. In my imaginary life I'd have a dog too. And heck, a car parking space. And a garden. I'm living the London dream.

Politicised Flapjacks

With a parental state visit occurring last week, we were prepping hard to pretend that we live like human beings. We did the hoovering, watered the houseplants, wiped and/or dusted all surfaces, and the plants on the balcony were either replaced or pruned to within an inch of their lives. The flat was sparkling but I wasn’t finished- what about food? My dad’s a coeliac, which means he can’t eat wheat. Now here’s where I get political: the government has decided to stop funding the special bread that my dad and countless others get on prescription from the pharmacy.

Dark Rye Crackers

You know when you go into a supermarket to buy a really nice packet of crackers and you find that you grit your teeth in silent fury as the ones you like the most cost £3.50 for a pack of 16? …Yeah? Anyone else get that..? [*pant, pant*] 

These are the kind of crackers I always opt for. It annoys me greatly that I buy them at all, that I’m playing into the hands of the man by buying them... I love crackers. I eat them a lot. But honestly, crackers are just flour and water. These take all of five minutes to weigh and roll out, then only need a quick spell in a hot oven. Hey presto, artisan crackers. Hipster crackers. Have them with a piece of cheese you bought in London which cost a mere four hundred pounds. Actually, I will. Dark rye gives a great nutty flavour and the addition of poppy seeds, caraway or sesame seeds adds to that- give them a go if you want to stick it to Waitrose.

Aloo Tikki Chaat

Despite having moved to London in August, I feel like I’ve hardly seen the city. This is down to a combination of factors; I’ve been working on my PhD (an alarming truth), I’ve been tired (thanks a lot, underactive thyroid) and like most PhD students I’ve been paranoid that going out and doing something for an afternoon makes me a bad person who is doomed to fail. But one Sunday morning, rather than sitting slumped in front of my laptop madly planning my research schedule in different coloured pens (and not actually achieving anything, of course), I went outside, crossed the river, hit up the Tate Modern, then walked to Borough Market.

Gluten-Free Mince Pies

With Christmas just a few days away, I’m off home back to Yorkshire. But I couldn’t arrive empty-handed. My dad can’t eat wheat- he’s one of those genuine coeliacs, rather than the hipster type you see nowadays. That said, hipster trends have opened up the gluten-free market no end. You can actually go in a shop any buy something gluten-free by mistake because it actually resembles real food.

Oxtail Soup

Everyone’s depressed and winter’s coming in. I’m not suggesting soup can solve much, but when I go back to Yorkshire I need it in my system to function. A big pan of something on the stove also warms the house up nicely. Coming back home makes me realise how blooming freezing I’ve been all my life; surely everyone ‘wears’ a duvet watching TV at night? Wait, you mean you don’t sleep in a hat?? I’m typing this while wearing a shawl for crying out loud.

Roasted Vegetable Salsa

There comes a point when you have to admit that autumn is coming. I’m not ready to think of winter yet, give me time for that... But when summer days start ending on a chilly note and you find yourself reaching for your stash of vests (everyone has one, right?), it’s time to adapt your food to fit. This is often helped on by supermarkets, who begin to stock basic ingredients that just don’t work as well as they did in summer months. Take tomatoes. They’re ripe and juicy in the summer, albeit for a price. By autumn, the packets that grace the shelves are full of fruit as hard as stones and just as tasteless. Luckily, salt, pepper, olive oil and a spell in a hot oven at everyone’s favourite gas mark (6, duh!) is enough to get the tastebuds excited again.