“Outside, I shivered in a landscape of greys and silvers, the stone walls and cobbles looming pale in the wintry air. The only true color was an amber penumbra shimmering around the moon. Beyond the silvered slope of overgrown lawn,… — 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
“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
“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
“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
“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
“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
“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
“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
“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
“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
“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
“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
“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
“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
“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
