Brrr!

Its bleedin' freezing in Sydney in winter! When the English arrived, they brought with them the artesan terraces which are typical of British cities and areas like Fulham and Hackney, where there are rows and rows of them. Unlike the British ones, they made the windows small, presumably to keep out the heat in the summer, but they did bring with them the fireplaces and grates, perfect little fireplaces for coal.

Those days are long gone, coal is no more in cities such as these and those little fireplaces have been left to crumble so are nothing but outlets for warm air. We have no heating, nothing dries and I feel like a student again.

Thank god then for Delia! When merging our stuff, I was told that there was to be no Nigella, no Jamie (except when my dad took us to Jamie's uncle's pub on our first meeting and he had to be polite, whilst sitting under a Jamie shrine!) I ignored those but I felt the need to sneak in the Delia winter cookbook and hide it under the bed. It reminds me of the late '80s and I haven't used it in years. However, leafing through the pages made me warm again and lusting after 'luxury fish pie'.

I scored 10 out of 10 without announcing the author. It was then demoted to an 8 but I think that was mostly because M is bitter and twisted... and probably a bit cold.