“If thou tastest a crust of bread, thou tastest all the stars and all the heavens.” --Robert Browning

I took advantage of the return of the cold weather by doing some baking over the weekend. Seeing as how it looks as though the removal of baggy jumpers is going to be delayed a while. The tea bread was out of this world. crunchy-topped citrus scones made with ricotta were yummy; but the rosewater biscuits a bit disappointing - think Turkish Delight flavoured shortbread.

I even tried making bread and managed to survive the experience. Every recipe called for fresh yeast and I haven't a clue where to buy that so I had to settle for easy blend yeast and calculate conversion rates. Fortunately, my mantra "Measure twice, cut once" saved the day again. The house would have been enveloped in a blob of dough the size of Dorset, after my first calculation indicated that I needed 42g of yeast when it should have been 9g.

The bread actually tasted good, to my surprise, albeit not a full-blown stars and heavens experience. But it only kept well for one day, which makes me wonder what additives go in to commercial bread. I am also thoroughly confused as to why it comes out looking a wholemeal colour when it is supposed to be white flour. I got the (strong white) flour from a local mill, so is this because the flour is stoneground or unbleached? Breadmakers, please enlighten me!

I'm still feeling enthusiastic, despite the never-ending washing-up. I read in a cookbook by Rachel Allen that "we all have those special foods that conjure up warm, nostalgic feelings of childhood - meals that instantly transport you back in time in just one bite .." Is this true for everyone? I could think of just two things: welsh cakes, which my mum made on Sunday evenings as a sop to the tears and tantrums of pre-school hair and bath night; and apple fritters, which a neighbour used to make. I haven't eaten apple fritters since I was 10, so this is my next challenge.

So if I reappear here later, pulling faces, chanting my times table and sporting a late sixties hairstyle and knee-high white socks, you will know that I have been successfully transported back in time.