Baking tips from Annie by Pauline Seawards I was a plain cook in service and at home. I was mashed spuds, slab cake,  Birds  custard cabb...

Soap Opera Cake by  Claire Trévien Kimberley’s plumbed the depths of the human brain, her unusual layers are two powerhouses of flavou...

Poem In Celebration Of A Thousand Sugary Kisses by Michelle McGrane Behind, the bell chimes, the door closes on rue Royale and the fros...

Argot of Rye by Fran Lock That time I lost it among meringues listing like toppled mosques, cupcakes piled up, knickknacks in a granny ...

Two Poems by Roberta James The solace of java He winks, exudes a ‘look look’ look you see shimmer from a distance as you focus on...

Hollywood by JT Welsch Our Hollywood baker returns to England, a fall like his weaker contestants’ bread. Every day, another headli...

The Easy Cakes of Ottolenghi by Jacqueline Saphra In his salad days of skins and caves, man gave chase. He slaughtered buck, swallow...

On Typing Paper Stolen From Her Employers She Proceeds To Evolve A Campaign  by Amy Key A feeling that I should be writing a diary,...