“Signor Renzo's lodge stood on a grassy knoll near the crest of the hill. It was a modest place, just a low stone hut, before which stretched a woven ceiling of vines. My dinner was cooked on an open fire… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
“Look, I fetched some Fat Hen for you.' Jem offered me a bunch of wilting greens. I reached for the plants, rubbed the leaves… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
“Around me shone the kitchen I'd worked in each day: the copper pans hung neatly, the scratched wooden table and neat blue plates set… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
“It was almost Christmas, and Renzo was preparing all the delicacies Florentines must eat at the festival: roast eels, goose, fancy cakes with marzipan… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
“Sal and Henry return with a gust of warm garden air and I settle down to create miniature roses from sugarpaste using tiny ivory… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
“There was a new smell in the air at Lyons, of sun-baked southern stuffs, of strong red vinegar, and spikes of rosemary. It was… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
“Signor Renzo's lodge stood on a grassy knoll near the crest of the hill. It was a modest place, just a low stone hut,… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
“The Cocoa-Nut Tree at Covent Garden? Why it's the finest confectioner in the capital and sells bonbons, macaroons, candied fruits, and ices,' I said… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
“While Mr Loveday aired my lady's sheets, I set to scratching up a supper. With not even time to change from my own damp… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
“On December the twenty-third, the park was hazy from clammy mists that muted and softened all color and distance. Michael had not set off… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
“Every cook knows it's a rare day when you have all the parts of the perfect dish. But that day back at Mawton I… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
“I was thrown together with Florence, or 'Florawns' as she was called, a pert girl of nineteen who worked in our kitchen and was… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
“I'd give me two eyes for a slice of apple pie." She was brain-cracked, but spoke for them all. Then Tabby Jones joined in,… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
“So on Christmas morning I was up at five o'clock, making the fire as bright as a furnace, baking minc'd pies and boiling plum… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
“So what are you after, eh? Side of beef? Some chops?' 'Aye, sir. Whatever you fancy.' He licked his lips and listed his favorite… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
“I continued my explorations in a cobbled yard overlooked by broken doors and cracked windows. Pushing open a swollen door into a storeroom, I… — Martine Bailey Copy Share Image
