Cream sherry: a forgotten taste that’s worth rediscovering

By the time I knew her, my granny was in her whisky and water era, but my dad clearly remembers a bottle of Harveys Bristol Cream in the drinks cupboard, ready to pour for friends after church in the 1970s. This is the enduring image of cream sherry, one that it has struggled to shake off. While other sherries – bone-dry fino and manzanilla (made by ageing palomino grapes under a yeast layer called flor), oxidative amontillado or oloroso, and sweet, single varietals such as pedro ximénez (PX) – have acquired new cachet among younger drinkers, not least because they’re relatively affordable, cream is the emblematic Little English tipple of a bygone time.The Guardian’s journalism is independent. We will earn a commission if you buy something through an affiliate link

From soups and greens to roots, how to survive the ‘hungry gap’

Spring may have firmly sprung – I write this with a view of vivid yellow forsythia blossom in next door’s garden, and the melodious warble of full-throated birdsong – but though the greenery may be flourishing in our gardens, it’s a different story at the farmers’ market. Despite a few spindly spears of asparagus and miniature jersey royals making an appearance on our Easter tables last weekend, the new season of British produce doesn’t kick off in earnest for another few weeks yet. That means we’re now heading into the so-called “hungry gap”, an annual quirk of our relatively northern latitude, when temperatures are too high for much winter veg such as kale and brassicas, but too low for the more delicate likes of peas and broad beans to ripen – let alone high-summer treats such as berries, squash and stone fruit.Happily, many hardy winter crops store well, and are versatile enough to shake off their heavy winter coat of cream and butter in favour of a lighter treatment. The late Skye Gyngell gifted us a carrot, celery, farro and borlotti bean soup, Nigel Slater has an early spring laksa with purple sprouting broccoli (and some spinach, which I suspect you could use frozen), and Nicholas Balfe offers a ceviche with celeriac and a baked beetroot dish (pictured top) – both of which look just the thing to wake up your taste buds

Rachel Roddy’s recipe for hazelnut and chocolate cake | A kitchen in Rome

Having been kept waiting for three hours, Dick Dewy leaves Miss Fancy Day snipping and sewing her blue dress. The plan is that he will return for her a quarter of an hour later, however, Dick convinces himself that he has been scandalously trifled with by Fancy and decides that, to punish her, he will not return. Instead, he leaps over the gate, pushes up the lane for two miles, takes a winding path called Snail-Creep, and crawls through the opening to the hazel grove in Grey’s Wood.Getting a class of 15-year-olds to relay/read the opening of chapter four of Under the Greenwood Tree, which is memorably entitled “Going Nutting”, is an extremely effective way to engage them with the majesty of Thomas Hardy. And the title is nothing compared to the line (as Dick vanished among the bushes): “Never man nutted as Dick nutted that afternoon

How to make cauliflower cheese using the whole plant – recipe | Waste not

This recipe, adapted from one in my cookbook, is a very elaborate way to serve humble cauliflower cheese. The whole plant, including the leaves and core, is seasoned with nutmeg and roasted, and it’s then dressed with a satisfying layer of rich cheese sauce and grilled until charred and bubbling. Choose a cauliflower with plenty of leaves, because they go deliciously crisp when roasted.This is perhaps the most decadent cauliflower cheese I’ve ever made. Inspired by an orange-coloured cauliflower I found sitting proudly in a box at my local Brockley Market in south London, I decided to make a vibrant and very orange cauliflower cheese using red leicester cheese and turmeric

A marmalade-dropper for Paddington Bear? | Letters

As a Portuguese-British citizen, I feel it is my duty to add to your explainer article (Keir Starmalade, anyone? Will marmalade really have to be rebranded in UK?, 4 April) and explain where the word marmalade originated from. Marmalade comes from the fruit marmelo (quince). And marmalade was and is quince jam in Portugal. This jam began to be exported to England at the end of the 15th century. Only in the 17th century did the English start to apply the word marmalade to orange jam

‘Before I can stop her, my daughter is licking crumbs from the table’: my search for the perfect kids’ menu

Chips, fish fingers, pizza … restaurant food for children is depressingly predictable. Are there more adventurous options? I took my four-year-old daughter on a month-long mission to find outWe’re heading out for dinner. Before I tell my four-year-old where we’re going, she has already announced that she’s going to have fish, chips and lots of ketchup. It sounds delicious; a classic. But there’s the irksome feeling that the intrepid impulses of childhood should be met with food that expands palates rather than feeding into the well-trodden path to a beige meal