Home made candied peel

This is a real winter favourite and something I make most years as Christmas gifts – what's not to love about home made candied peel, especially dipped in chocolate. You often see recipes for it in the run up to Christmas as it's photogenic and sounds so luxurious, but they are rarely honest about how long it can take. The method hinges on the sugar syrup dried out fully and this depends on the atmosphere. Last year mine weren't ready in time for Christmas after leaving them for a week to dry out and I think all the damp weather was the problem. However, if you start now and use a warm airing cupboard (or low oven if it comes to it), you should be fine.

You can use any citrus fruit, but I prefer orange as it goes better with chocolate. Select unwaxed fruit or failing that, scrub the skins thoroughly. Divide 6 oranges into quarters and carefully cut away the flesh from the pith and peel. Slice this into strips or leave in larger pieces to use in cooking (cakes, buns, mincemeat etc). Place in a large saucepan or preserving pan and cover with water. Over a low heat simmer until soft. Drain away the water and repeat the process. Strain the fruit and reserve the cooking water for the syrup.

Make a syrup by dissolving 600g granulated sugar in 300ml water, bring it to the boil and let it bubble until slightly thickened. Add the cooked peel. Over a low heat allow it to simmer gently until the peel has absorbed all the syrup – this might take two hours or so and swirl the pan occasionally in case the peel is sticking to the bottom of the pan.

Once all the syrup has been absorbed, arrange the peel on drying racks spaced so the air can circulate. I put the racks on large trays lined with cling film or baking parchment as the sticky syrup drips off the fruit and makes a real mess (I learned this the hard way first time around). Rearrange them every couple of days.

Once fully dry, if you like, dip the peel in melted dark chocolate, alternatively, larger pieces can be snipped up to use in cooking. Store in airtight containers. To say it's better than shop bought candied peel is quite an understatement. It's fabulous with Vin Santo, but Tokaji and other well flavoured sweet wines also work beautifully.

Simply baked fish and veg with Knorr Flavour Pot

The people at Knorr recently sent me some of their new Flavour Pots to try out. If I'm not using home-made stock (usually chicken) and I need to pep things up I use Marigold powdered stock or Oxo cubes,  so I didn't mind giving these little pots of seasoning paste a whirl.

They sent a selection of flavours and a hamper of fresh produce from Waitrose so, in a sort of Masterchef fashion, I created a dish based on these ingredients. Using some sea bream I'd bought the day before, I assembled a light, spring inspired fish supper.

As you can see I cut up the peppers and fennel, arranging them in the baking tray before placing the fish on top. Then I combined the mixed herb Flavour Pot with about a glass of white wine, topping up with water to pour into the tray. I left it unseasoned in order to test the strength of the Flavour Pot, covered it loosely with foil and baked it in the oven at 180°C for about 20 minutes. The result was a tasty, easy (and healthy) meal.

Since then I've been trying out the other flavours. The curry flavoured pot was good and pokey in a prawn biryani (that went brilliantly with Veuve Clicquot demi-sec) and the garlic flavoured pot worked well with some braised vegetables. My main gripe is with the plastic packaging as they are single serve portions (I'd prefer small glass jars – think pesto or tomato purée), but otherwise a helpful addition to your larder.

Proper home made pizza

We had a big new experience a couple of Saturdays ago. We made pizza – from scratch. My husband (who doesn't do much baking) decided to research recipes for pizza dough, found this by John Torode and in the afternoon got cracking. A few hours later we arranged our favourite toppings in bowls and made a simple tomato sauce by simmering tinned chopped tomatoes until thick.

We like thin, crisp bases, so rolled out the dough as thinly as possible and started assembling pizzas. Once ready for the hot oven, they were transferred to our brand new baking stone. After about 20 minutes the crunchy, bubbling treats were ready. We're fans of the wood fired pizzas from Firezza and  (even though we say this ourselves) these were as good. The dough could have done with more seasoning (the recipe includes sugar, rather than salt), but the baking stone allowed the thin bases to puff up and cook brilliantly.

The previous month we'd enjoyed home made pizzas with friends who have a rather glamorous Chadwick pizza oven which cooks them in 4 minutes. Although ours took longer, for the three of us it worked out fine and the results were brilliant. A great way to spend a Saturday evening.

Black truffle butter

This rather glamorous treat was a wedding anniversary gift from my husband last month and it really has been the gift that keeps on giving. The sheer pleasure of simply untwisting the lid and inhaling the powerful fragrance is amazing in itself, yet it lends itself to so many things. Anointing baked potatoes or plain pasta are obvious options or slipping it between the breast and skin of a chicken, but how about frying eggs in truffle butter? Total bliss. It transforms food instantly.

If you're wondering what to give foodie friends for Christmas, look no further. Thank you darling!

When cooking goes wrong

Cooking can be a hit and miss affair. Over the years I've got much better at following recipes, particularly to expand my repertoire and to get a better technical understanding. But you still need to keep pushing boundaries and take the odd risk.

Not long ago I had a misguided experiment with some duck. I roasted the bird and then deglazed the pan with a generous slug of Campari, stirring in redcurrant jelly. To say this didn't work is quite an understatement. My husband who is not the greatest fan of Campari anyway (I love it!) observed all this, grimacing. I thought the aromatic bitterness would make a perfect foil to cut through the rich duck fat. But no, it just tasted bitter. Horribly bitter. And the bitterness seemed to intensify. So much so that I had to replate my food. Sensibly, my husband already had already done this by that point. I even recall blotting my duck with some kitchen roll to remove all traces of the sauce. (Bizarrely, it had tasted fairly balanced and interesting when I sampled it from the pan.)

The subject of when cooking goes wrong was suggested to me by my friend Ginny who lives in Greece who sent in the picture of the burnt loaf. She's a keen cook, very ambitious and (obviously) couldn't wait to try out a wood-fired oven that came as part of her family's new built-in barbecue. It looks like a lovingly prepared loaf and it's almost heartbreaking seeing it like this. However, she tells me that after much hilarity, her sons removed the charred crust and 'scoffed' the rest of the loaf. The flavour must have been fabulous. Not surprisingly, they are now on the look out for a decent oven thermometer – and still keep laughing about it!

Do please let me know if you've had similar experiences. We can learn from each others' mistakes...