easy baked ricotta

Ricotta is something I try to have in my fridge at all times. It is perfect for stirring into pasta sauces or risottos, enjoying on toast with pesto or chilli jam, and also makes a super quick and impressive homemade ice cream (which I'll share at some point). One of my favourite ways to enjoy ricotta though is this way - baked with herbs, chilli and lemon. It's SO good.

This makes a wonderful dip for fresh crusty bread, vegetable crudités, oatcakes, crackers or any other dip vehicle you can think of! Lovely as part of a drinks party spread too. 

Easy baked ricotta

1 x 250g tub ricotta cheese
Grated zest of 1 lemon
1 teaspoon mixed herbs (or Herbs de Provence, or any other dried green herb you like)
1-2 teaspoons dried chilli flakes (depending how hot they are and how you like it)
1-2 teaspoons honey
Salt and pepper
A drizzle of olive oil
Fresh herbs such as parsley, thyme or basil, finely chopped, to serve

Preheat the oven to 200 C. Line a baking tray with baking paper.

The ricotta you can buy here in British supermarkets is quite firm, so what I do is unmould the ricotta from the tub on to the baking paper on the tray - if you turn it upside down and squeeze the sides of the tub gently, normally this happens very easily and it just comes away in one piece. It should sit there proudly on the paper. If this doesn't happen, don't despair - as you can see from the picture, mine didn't unmould perfectly but you can always put it together. If the ricotta isn't very firm and just collapses on you, then just scoop it into a few ramekins or a baking dish. As Julia Child would say, never explain, never apologise!

The next step couldn't be easier - sprinkle all the condiments on top of the ricotta with some artistic flourish. Add as much or as little as you like to your taste. The great thing is that all the suggested condiments are interchangeable depending on what you have and what combinations you enjoy - I have some lovely dried herb and chilli mixes I've brought back from trips to Italy and Switzerland, and I find this is an ideal place to use these. 

Once you're happy, drizzle the top lightly with the honey and olive oil. Place in the hot oven for about 20 minutes or until golden.

Let it cool slightly before sprinkling with the fresh herbs (if using) and serve with bread, crackers or another crudite of your choice.

If there are any leftovers, this is wonderful for brunch the next day on toast, or you can stir it into a risotto or pasta sauce.

reclaiming loud

The opening pages - the altar, if you will - of my current journal, where my ritual is to make a collage before I start writing in its pages. I don't think it was an accident that those words somehow found each other.

“It’s not a woman’s job to get smaller and smaller and take up less and less space until she disappears so the world can be more comfortable.”

— Glennon Doyle, Love Warrior

Sas Petherick wrote recently about reclaiming the word 'bossy' for herself - a word that had negative connotations for her since childhood,  which subsequently affected how she saw herself and how she interacted with the world from a place of fear rather than worthiness. How she went through life doing everything she could to avoid being called 'bossy' because it made her feel so small.

Sas says:

Usually, there is a word.
Some phrase or sentence that when uttered, has the power to leave us feeling small and powerless. Diminished. Childlike.
I wonder what is it for you?

I’ve been trying to reclaim the word loud.

When I was younger, being called ‘loud’ - too loud, more often than not - left me feeling diminished and cut down. It felt like a rejection of my most essential self - an excitable, enthusiastic, outgoing little girl who was the first to put her hand up in class if she knew the answer; who loved to talk to people, tell stories and share things with others; who loved making up games, performing and making people laugh; who was fascinated by the world and the people in it. 

When people told me I was 'loud', that sent me the message that I needed to shut up. That I was too much. That what I had to say wasn't important, no one was interested. That making too much noise - taking up too much space - was not a good thing and I would be more acceptable, and more likeable, if I were quieter. Funnily enough, I don't recall the boys I knew being told they were too loud (but that's another story).

As I wasn't one of the 'pretty' or 'popular' girls either, the label of 'loud' made me even more self-conscious of my failings and flaws. As I became a teenager I found myself retreating inwards - I was only loud with people I felt I could be myself around (mostly my three sisters). Yet I still loved performing and acting, often winning the lead roles in school plays, so 'withdrawn' was probably not a word people would have used to describe me! And I noticed that people tended to like me more, or didn't mind how 'loud' I was, when I was entertaining them.

But what people didn’t realise - and nor did I, until I went to therapy as an adult - was that acting was a place of safety for me. All that gregariousness, enthusiasm and fun that I felt I couldn't express as myself went into playing parts, pretending to be someone else, instead. This eventually seeped through to the rest of my life and as a result, I no longer knew who I really was. 

About 12 years ago, in my mid-twenties, I tried to reclaim that word 'loud'. I became that confident young girl again - who liked who she was and let the world know it. Who put her hand up. Who enjoyed sharing her stories and experiences with people, and sharing in theirs too.  Who was vivacious, full of energy and, for the first time in her life, dropped her people-pleasing tendencies and put her own needs first. She was also a bit broken, and very naive, but was determined to rediscover her true self and purpose, and proud of how far she'd come in the process.

But then came the familiar cries of ‘too loud’ and it all unravelled. 

What hurts the most when I think about that time is not that I was betrayed and torn down by people I thought were friends, because they were insecure, unhappy people and what they did wasn't about me at all (sidenote: when people bully you, it's never about you). What hurts the most is that I betrayed myself, my true self. I didn't fight back or confront them about how much they had hurt me. I didn't use the voice I thought I had found to stand up to them.

Instead, I just did what I thought I had to do, and what I had always done, when I showed people the real me and they didn't like it - I pressed the mute button and shut down. And when you are complicit in your own betrayal, that is a wound that takes years, perhaps a lifetime, to recover from.

It took me ten years (and writing a book!) to really understand what that time was about, what the lessons were. The confidence I'd worked so hard for had slipped away so easily, which made me realise I still had work to do.  It has taken until now to feel brave enough to try being that excited, enthusiastic, loud person again.  

But this time, I feel less afraid of the smackdown, because it's probably about time I accepted that I will always be too much for some people. Choosing to live my life with the volume dial turned right up will likely trigger someone else's insecurities at some point, but I'm finally in a place where I know that isn't my problem. 

Because now I get to choose what 'loud' means.

Loud doesn’t mean annoying or full of yourself. It is not code for 'shut up, go away, no one is interested'. Loud is not a demand for attention. 

Loud is just a desire to be heard, and to be seen, for who I really am. 

Loud means using my voice, however I want to use it. I owe that not only to myself, but to the women who came before me and didn’t have a voice. And to all the women in the world who still don’t have one. 

Loud means being brave enough to speak the truth in my heart, trusting that it is safe for me to do that, and not waiting to be invited on to the stage. 

Loud means standing up for myself, and for others. 

Loud means knowing what is important to say and then saying it, backing myself all the way. Thinking before I speak, of course, but breaking out of this pattern I've been in for the last few years where I overthink everything so much that I lose my nerve, the moment passes and I end up saying nothing. 

Loud, ironically, means listening to that small voice inside me that just wants to be free. That just wants to show up in the world without fear, without agenda, just with love and the desire to be useful and joyful.

Loud is a strength, not a flaw.

Loud is bubbly, bright, alive and grateful.

Loud is me.

Maybe loud is you too.

It’s OK to be loud.

one story many ways

Perhaps Elizabeth Strout is right in my case.

One of the reasons I was so thrilled when The Latte Years was finally written was because I thought the themes that had plagued me  and found their way into everything else I'd tried to write in the intervening years would be done with. I could move on. Write about other things.

That hasn't really happened!

The novel I started in earnest last year seems to have quite a few themes in common with my first book. A young marriage in trouble. Friendships fracturing and true colours shown when paths diverge. Making peace with your past. Yearning to belong. Finding your place in a world where every day you wake up to another drama and the small, ordinary things you want to do and share seem very irrelevant in the grand scheme of things.

It is my belief that the only way we will progress as a society is if we talk about shameful experiences, and stop being silent. Many things I've experienced in my life have been messy and ugly. It has helped enormously when I've stumbled across a book or a blog where someone has had the heart to share their own pain and confusion. It's helped me feel less alone. It's why I write too.  

So maybe I'm not done with those themes just yet....or they are not done with me! 

my favourite books of 2017

I can't be the only person rubbing their eyes and thinking "Oh God, how is it the end of February already?!"...but here I am. I've never really managed to do my best books post of the year in a timely fashion - but I'm determined to never let it get to August like I did several years ago. In my defence, I had spent all of that year writing my own book! 

This time, instead of doing a measly Top 10 which is always difficult to whittle down, I'm just going to pick my favourites and tell you why, in the hope that you'll be moved to check them out too.

So here goes, of the 83 books I read in 2017, these were the ones that stood out. And as always, because I read and savour them like novels, cookbooks are included. 

My favourite book of the year - After by Nikki Gemmell

I am still reeling from this gaping wound of a book. Written in the aftermath of her mother's suicide, Nikki's words made me think long and hard about the relationship between a mother and daughter, how it can be so brutal and beautiful. After was absorbing, heartbreaking, thoughtful, tender, anguished and, as always, beautifully written. 

Fresh India by Meera Sodha

Absolutely stunning, and the first cookbook to make me feel hungry again after having the worst flu of my life over Christmas (sob!). I made the temple tomato rasam as a gentle reintroduction to solid food and it was exquisite. The smell of the garlic, ginger, chilli, cumin and curry leaves frying together was so restorative I almost wept. Every recipe of Meera Sodha's I've made - whether from this book or from her Guardian column - has been sensational so I'd highly recommend you check her out if you like to cook. 

The Dry by Jane Harper

I'd heard great things about this book and wasn't disappointed. Even though I'm not normally a crime fiction person, I've been reading more and more of them lately! The Dry was riveting and well-written, brilliantly paced and intricately plotted. I didn't see the twist coming, which is always a good sign. I found the portrait of the claustrophobic, drought-ridden country town very authentic too. 

When It Happens To You by Molly Ringwald

Yes, *that* Molly Ringwald - who is as compelling a storyteller with the written word as she is on screen and stage. I wasn't sure what to expect, but this "novel in stories" had me intrigued from the first page. Over the course of the book, through these stories where the lives of various characters (convincingly) intersect, Ringwald creates a world where these flawed but ultimately good people find their lives punctured by betrayal, in its various forms. It's realistic and compelling reading, and her writing has a lovely lyrical quality in places. The characters are brought to life beautifully, I particularly enjoyed Betty the neighbour, and how the philandering Phillip was welcomed back into his estranged family. It's a book that makes you think, not just about life and family and relationships, but how might you feel, as the title suggests, when it happens to you.

My Life in France by Julia Child (a re-read)

I re-read this last summer in preparation for my first trip to Paris in over seven years. This is one of my favourite books and this read of it reminded me why. It is just pure joy, from start to finish. Julia finds herself in a foreign country, not speaking the language, knowing very few people and wanting to discover her purpose in life. "At age thirty-seven, I was still discovering who I was," she writes. I feel very similarly! Her delight in discovering the pleasures of food and cooking, and her incredible work ethic and refusal to give up on a project she believed in wholeheartedly, is a balm for the soul for anyone feeling a little cynical or dejected. Never give up! 

Island in the East by Jenny Ashcroft

A luscious historical novel that has a bit of everything - love, war, betrayal, heartbreak, tragedy, redemption and hope - resulting in a sumptuous, evocative read with characters that will linger in your mind long after you've finished reading. And, at time of writing, it's only £1.99 on Kindle! 

Little Boy Lost by Marghanita Laski

I heard about this book on the Tea and Tattle podcast special Persephone Books episode, where Miranda and Sophie discussed their favourites. I read it in one weekend. It was absolutely breathtaking. It was desperately sad at times, even depressing, as it follows a father's journey to try and find his missing five-year-old- son after the Second World War, but all in all, it is a stunning novel about loss and hope. I'd even go so far as to say it's a masterpiece. 

The Christmas Chronicles by Nigel Slater

I think Nigel Slater could write a book about paint drying and it would still be a bestseller. This book is magnificently evocative and poetic in true Nigel style as he shares with us a celebration of his favourite time of year - Christmas, and winter in general. A cold Christmas is something I've wholeheartedly embraced living in the UK and for the very first time ever, I looked forward to winter after reading this book. All of his ideas - like enjoying a white port and tonic, in the same way you'd enjoy gin - are delicious and inspiring. A must-read for the colder months.

Between A Wolf And A Dog by Georgia Blain

Sometimes I think the best novels are those that are set over the course of just one day. Let's face it, a lot can happen. Between A Wolf And A Dog explores the goings on of one rainy day (and a little bit into the next) in Sydney, in the lives of several characters in one family, by blood and by marriage. Blain explores the pain and heartbreak of separation and betrayal, how life as we know it can be over in an instant, and captures the minutiae of life, from the sound of the rain falling to the colour of an enamel ring on a character's hand, with a poet's touch. The plight of one character's fate is all the more poignant knowing that Blain herself passed away not long after the novel was published. It's a wonderful book and hammers home all the more that the Australian literary community lost someone very special indeed with her passing.

Anything You Do Say by Gillian McAllister

A completely gripping and engrossing novel with two parallel narratives. In the style of Sliding Doors, you see two storylines playing out if the protagonist, Joanna, had made a different decision. That decision is whether to leave the scene of a crime, or to dial 999 and hand herself in. I was completely engrossed in this novel as the story played out and Joanna grappled with the aftermath of this incident in both scenarios. The anxiety, guilt and fear that she feels - in both storylines - is palpable and will have you turning the pages! It's the sort of story that certainly makes you wonder how you would react if you were ever in the same situation. At the time of writing, it's only 99p on Kindle which is an absolute bargain!

Love Warrior by Glennon Doyle

Having written a book about self-discovery after a marriage breakdown myself, I knew I'd enjoy this (and undoubtedly think "oh, she put that so much better than I did!"). I found it relatable on so many levels, not just the marriage breakdown side of things because ultimately this is a book about learning to save yourself, rather than a marriage, or anyone else. It's courageous and candid, and I'd highly recommend it if you've found yourself at a crossroads in life and need to see that it is possible to find your way through to the other side. 

Talking As Fast As I Can by Lauren Graham

A fabulous read - what a warm, witty writer Lauren Graham is. I especially liked the sections of the book that reflected on her own writing practice. It revolutionised my own writing practice last year and reacquainted me with the idea of good old fashioned discipline! Funny and inspiring.

Upstream by Mary Oliver

Normally I gulp books down in a day or two, sometimes hours, but occasionally one comes along that demands careful savouring. This was one of them. One of my favourite poets, Mary Oliver turns her exquisite touch to essays in this collection which covers everything from the creative life, meditations on the work of her own favourite writers like Poe and Whitman, or observing nature, such as a spider making a web in the stairwell of a rented house at 5am each day.  I love her boundless curiosity, and how she lives so thoughtfully and intelligently.

Option B by Sheryl Sandberg

One of the best books on grieving, trauma and healing that I've ever come across. Within just a few pages I was trying not to cry as Sheryl shared the terrible story of her husband's sudden death and the painful aftermath of it. It's a very readable and relatable book with lots of personal insight, research and practical advice - even, believe it or not, humour (she uses sarcasm to great effect in places!) - which anyone navigating a loss I'm sure will find helpful and of comfort.  It's a real tribute to human resilience. 

So, not a bad reading year....and my favourites only had one bloke (and a fabulous bloke at that) among them! In 2018 I'd like to read more British women writers and more women in translation. 

Have you read any of these books? What did you think? What were your favourite reads of last year? Do you have any goals for your reading this year? Do let me know!

The links to the books in this post are Amazon Affiliate links. 

whisky banana bread

If you have any black, spotty overripe bananas in the fruit bowl, you have to make this. Even the most feral bananas, minutes away from going in the compost, are transformed. 

I love this banana bread recipe. It's delicious, indulgent, low in sugar (though you'd never know to taste it) and - best of all - made with the minimum of equipment! Gemma Burgess got me on to the original Smitten Kitchen recipe and I've Phil-ified it a bit over the years to make it as low-fuss as possible. 

It doesn't matter how many bananas you use - I've even just used one, and it was great. Bear in the mind the more bananas you use, the wetter your mixture will be, so if you use 4 bananas, you might need to add a dash more flour to balance things out.

And the shot of whisky? Essential. It's the perfect use for that tiny bottle you got on the aeroplane. A whisky with sweeter notes is what you want here though - something too peaty and smoky like Laphroaig might not work! Alternatively, you can use rum - the darker the better. 

You can of course leave the alcohol out if you're avoiding it or don't like the taste - but the end product may not have the rich depths that the whisky provides. I must admit, I've never tried it without! 

Whisky banana bread

Based on Smitten Kitchen's recipe

2-4 ripe bananas, peeled and broken into chunks
Splash of almond milk (or regular milk)
75g unsalted butter
75-100g brown sugar (I usually use the 75g, depending on how many bananas I have)
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 shot (30ml) of whisky (I like Highland Park for this recipe - anything with a toffee-sweet finish)
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon sea salt
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground cardamom (or mixed spice)
A little freshly grated nutmeg (optional)
190g plain flour

Preheat the oven to 190 C (350 F). Line a loaf tin with baking paper or a special loaf wrapper like I've used in the picture (you can get them from supermarkets in the baking section). 

Puree the bananas and splash of almond milk together with a hand blender (or in an actual blender) and set aside. Alternatively, smash the bananas thoroughly with a fork if you don't have a blender.

In a large saucepan (which will also be your mixing bowl), melt the butter over a low heat. Once melted, remove from heat and add the pureed bananas, sugar, egg, vanilla and whisky. Mix until well combined.

Add the baking soda, salt, spices and, finally, the flour to the saucepan. Mix well but do not overbeat. 

Pour the mixture into the prepared tin and bake for about 45 minutes or until a skewer comes out clean. My oven is quite hot so I usually check it after 30 minutes. 

Allow to cool and then slice to serve. It's perfect any time of day with tea, coffee....maybe even whisky too. It also freezes well in individual slices if you want to put it in the freezer, away from temptation!

This recipe is so good I sometimes buy a few bananas and deliberately let them get overripe in the bowl, just so I can make this. I'm sure once you've tried it, you'll do the same.