Baking

Soft, buttery sourdough brioche bread raised entirely with your starter. Mix it in the evening or first thing in the morning, let it rise on the bench, and bake a tall, golden loaf that tears into soft strands.

A rustic spelt galette with a nutty, flaky crust, a layer of milled flaxseed to help keep the base from going soggy, sliced fresh figs and crunchy pistachios. Serve each slice with a drizzle of balsamic glaze.

My blueberry sourdough boule, with a tangzhong worked into the dough for a loaf that’s still soft on day two and three, not just fresh out of the oven.

These sourdough lemon ricotta pancakes have become the thing I make on slow weekend mornings. The ricotta keeps them tender and almost custardy in the middle. Pile some blueberries on and you get the softest, most pillowy blueberry lemon ricotta pancakes you’ve ever dreamt of.

This light and airy Pan di Spagna comes from my mum’s recipe repertoire and is one of the few cakes I can make by heart. Made without butter, the sponge keeps soft and moist, with a gentle cocoa swirl through the middle and toasted pecans on top.

This piadina pizza bakes fast, even with a homemade Marinara sauce. No apologies for eating slices folded straight from the tray.

Sweet tyropita made with crisp filo pastry and a lightly sweet cottage cheese filling scented with lemon zest. These golden Greek cheese filo pies bake in just 20 minutes and disappear quickly.

These apple sourdough muffins are soft, gently spiced with a pinch of cinnamon and orange zest, and crammed with juicy pockets of baked apple (which by the way gives you pectin-rich fibre). If, like me, you get sad to throw away any spare sourdough starter …

Apple and blackberry crumble is our end-of-summer staple, especially when a neighbor keeps offloading her extra apples on us. This version uses store-bought fruit, and it works brilliantly with frozen too.

Every summer, our family orchard turned gold. The apricot trees in my grandparents’ farm ripened all at once, their branches heavy with fruit. I’d climb the old gnarled tree, eating apricots still warm from the sun – sticky fingers, sweet juice, and that floral fragrance that only fresh apricots have.