enamelled cookware

At home in the cottage we’ve been unpacking boxes all day long. Moving from London went well enough but was very intense, and we were delighted to arrive, greeted by my sweetheart and a cosy fire, and so much organised ahead of us. Kettle, cups and tea were found, beds made up, and we fell into them for a gorgeous sleep. The children love their little room, and feel content at the top of the house near us, so they slept well and woke early to play quietly there. Bliss.

We all keep finding extraordinary details, I’m very much in love with the place. There were deer in the garden this morning, and our good friend heard foxes barking in the night.

My sweetheart gave us a present for our new home this morning. It has been many years since I had the pleasure of cooking in this French enamelled cast iron. The gas hob is wonderful, now that we’ve worked out how to light it, and with the new pot it is a delight. I’ve heard it is ideal for baking bread, I look forward to trying it out. I love that this is cookware I will use for life.


The wind blew cold today, and there wasn’t time for more than a peek through the late autumn garden. We received a pile of chestnut wood from a lovely tree surgeon, and gathered lots of it in for the woodstoves. Then a risotto with pollack in the pot, apple crumble with granny’s windfalls, and bedtime again!

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