nutmegs, seven

nutmegs, seven

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Why does everywhere smell like green tea?

If the look of the non-place is the generic hipster coffee shop, then its smell is undoubtedly green tea.
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On taking the pulse of a food culture
The way in which food irrigates a nation, seeps into its very fabric and floods the veins of its people is subtle.
 • Elly McCausland
On the meals that never were
I like to imagine an ephemeral archive of food stories that should have been, could have been, but never were
 • Elly McCausland
On feminism and fermentation
There are infinite ways to mother, though most of them go unrecognised.
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On happiness being, in fact, a potato
It bides its time, awaiting the moment it can start to send tentative tendrils up into the sunshine.
 • Elly McCausland
On wasting food, and why banana bread is (probably) not the answer
We are still wasting food, by the truckload. Might it not be time to start looking more closely at why?
 • Elly McCausland
Redcurrant, pecan and cinnamon scones
A few weeks ago, my neighbourhood exploded in crimson.
 • Elly McCausland
Norwegian(ish) blackcurrant custard buns
It is a myth universally peddled that Scandinavia has excellent baked goods.
 • Elly McCausland
On a friendship without food
When your adult life has been defined by a passionate relationship with food in all its guises, a real sense of impotence strikes when your close friend…
 • Elly McCausland
On missing breakfast in a pandemic
Morning hunger will take you on journeys – both literal and metaphorical – of unimaginable delight.
 • Elly McCausland
nutmegs, seven
nutmegs, seven
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