From Emily's Kitchen

Yes, pie. And you have to say it in a broad Yorkshire accent.
I've never been a big fan of offal. I wouldn't call myself squeamish, though I suppose I totally am, but offal just isn't my thing. I suppose my mother forcing me to chop up 3 pounds of liver so she could make paté didn't really help (thanks,...

Bonjour!
Okay, so I know sometimes people may disappear for a while due to being busy, or lazy, or just having nothing to write about. 'Well, Emily,' I hear you say, 'What's YOUR excuse?' And, to be fair, I've been gone 179 days. That's a LONG time.
Well, my excuse is all three really. I was working a ridiculous amount over my summer holidays, and was therefore too busy to be anything but lazy in the evenings, and too lazy to cook anything interesting. It was a vicious circle. But I've broken the...

For my birthday, my lovely mummy took me out for afternoon tea at the Sharrow Bay Hotel in Ullswater.  We'd done this once before, at the Miller Howe, a hotel that once had the legendary Nigel Slater in its kitchens; but I have to say Sharrow Bay...

Hullo! What a fine day it is today. I even went bare-legged and I can happily say I haven't got hypothermia yet.
On Mothering Sunday (Yes, I know it was ages ago, I've been on holiday, all right?) I actually remembered, for once, and did something. I cooked! Now, I know what you're thinking. 'Gosh, Emily, what a hardship for you. How did you cope?' But really,...