How to party, Christmas style

On the cusp of Christmas, I thought I'd post some of the amazing spreads of this little book I worked on recently, Winterfeest, by Snor publishers. It's full of recipes, decoration ideas and wine tips on how to throw the perfect, relaxed, yummy Christmas party with your friends. Pippa Middleton eat your heart out.

It was a joy to do the editorial on the recipes and words for this one, but actually holding the book in my hands was even better. It is soooo pretty! The paper's a treat, the photography done by iphone (and pushed through a swanky app, I reckon), and the book is stitched together with a single thread. It shows its readers exactly why books are never going to go out of fashion - some things have to be held, felt, smelt even, and no digital version is going to do. It's definitely one of the coolest projects I've been involved with this year.

DIY leafy skewers

Granny's rabbit with cranberry sauce

Chocolate mousse

Little teaser

Any day now, this article I wrote aeons ago will hit the news stands. I cannot wait! It features all my favourite Berlin haunts, and some of the lovely foodie people I've met since moving here. Here's a little teaser...

More to come on this one soon.

Drink a lot: The Barn Roastery, Prenzlauer Berg

The line that runs between being knowledgeable and pretentious is a fine one. At coffee bar The Barn they're not too worried about crossing it though. In September, they opened their second coffee shop on Schönhauser Allee.  The menu features a bunch of filter coffees, the bar a row of chemistry lab type coffee makers. The cafe is light, open and sparsely furnished. I end up sitting quite close to our neighbouring coffee drinkers, surrounded by lots of empty space.

The Barn lot don't cater for just anyone. (Nor do they want their customers to stay for too long, judging by the facts that there are no customer toilets and laptops are only allowed if you stand up at the 'laptops allowed' bar.)

They seem to be keen on serving their coffee to the select few people appreciating their frankly pretty narrow view of how coffee should be drunk. Their list of rules is longer than their menu. Some are recommendations more than rules. To allow for the hidden notes of their carefully selected coffee beans to get noticed, they prefer it if you didn't take milk. Nor sugar for that matter. Sugar is only good for disguising the bitterness of Italian style coffee, didn't you know? They must save a fortune on teaspoons.

I tried it their way and ordered their Guatemalan drip coffee. The barrista explained it was their plainest variety, but the menu promised a caramel flavour and, knowing I wasn't allowed any sugar, I thought I could cheat this way. The resulting little jug of coffee, presented with a flourish by the ever enthusiastic barista, tasted to me like, well, slightly weak filter coffee. I missed my sugar. I missed my steamed milk. (I ordered a flat white later, to make up for the lack of it all.) The brie and pear sandwich was nice though. As was the very moist, very huge slice of carrot cake. Somehow, in a place that is so in awe of their own drinks, liking the food most is an unwanted result?

The Barn has realised that they can only take their pushiness when it comes to 'how coffee should be drunk' so far. I heard this rumour that, when the cafe opened, no sugar was available at all. This was confirmed when I heard owner Ralf explaining to another customer they had to bring the sugar back in due to popular demand. Clearly, even the most posh of coffee drinkers won't be told to forego their sugar fix. That made me smile. But only on the inside. I have a feeling there might be a rule that says: no smiling. It might just ruin the coffee experience.

The Barn Roastery, Schönhauser Allee 8, 10119 Berlin, website, open: Mon - Sat 9am-6pm, Sun 10am-6pm.

My hero the Heidi Pie

I love pies. Especially when they're of the British, savoury variety. Not that there's anything wrong with American pie.  In fact, I've baked many a homely apple and blackberry pie, and eaten it. But with the weather getting autumnal, it's buttery puff pastry lids, cheesy mash toppings and crusty hot water pies I'm after. Steak and Guinness pie, shepherd's pie, pork pie - I love you all.

Having said that, I haven't baked that many pies myself. Why would I, when the fabulous Pie Minister is around? When living in London I'd just rock up at their Borough Market stall and get my fix. I tried many, but always reverted to my one true love, the Heidi Pie. No, I don't know why they call it that, either. There isn't anything remotely Alpine about the dish. It's a bit girly though: it's vegetarian and contains sweet potato, goat's cheese and spinach.

Though I've left the UK three years ago, it's only now that I suddenly developed a craving for a Heidi Pie. Inexplicably it's days before I'm going to the Pie Minister's hometown, Bristol and I will be able to buy all the Heidi Pies I can carry. But it. Cannot. Wait. I'm making my own. This is the result. (I'll get some proper ones next week and let you know how genuine the taste is...)

My hero the Heidi Pie

Makes 6

Serves 2-3

For the filling:

1 medium sweet potato, peeled

2 fat garlic cloves, unpeeled

sea salt and freshly ground black pepper

olive oil

1 small red onion, finely chopped

100 g chopped spinach, defrosted

3-4 tbsp soft goat's cheese

For the dough:

25ml milk

75g pure vegetable fat

225g strong white flour

1/2 sea salt

optional: 1/2 tsp mustard powder

optional: 1/2 tsp mixed spice

2 egg yolks

Extra: 6-hole muffin tin

Preheat the oven to 220˚C/450˚F. Cut the sweet potato into wedges and place into a baking dish. Add the garlic, season and drizzle with olive oil. Bake in the oven for 30 minutes until the sweet potato is soft.

In the meantime, sweat the onion in a little oil until soft. Put the onion and sweet potato into a bowl and squeeze the roasted garlic into the bowl. Squeeze as much liquid as possible out of the spinach and add to the bowl with the goat's cheese. Mash it all together with a fork.

Turn the oven temperature down to 180˚C/350˚F. Gently heat up the milk with 50ml water and the vegetable fat. Sift all the dry ingredients over a large bowl. I added some mixed spice for a sweet touch with really brings out the sweetness of the potato. Feel free to leave this and the mustard powder out if you like your pastry a little more plain. Add 1 egg yolk to the bowl and mix.

Once the fat has melted, turn up the heat and bring just to the boil. Pour into the bowl and mix the lot together into a dough ball. Divide the dough into 3 balls and put 1 ball aside. Divide the 2 balls into 3 parts each. Press the still warm dough into the muffin tin - 1 ball in each hole. Use you fingers to push the dough into the tin and up the sides.

Divide the sweet potato filling between the pies. Press down with a teaspoon to fill them right up. Brush the dough with egg yolk, then roll out the remaining dough and, using a glass, cut out rounds large enough to fit as lids.

Place the lids on top, pinch the edges together to seal and brush the tops with egg yolk. Slash a hole in each lid and place in the oven. Bake for 30 minutes, then transfer the pies from the muffin tin to a baking sheet and bake for another 20 minutes until the pies are crispy and golden all over.

Lovely with mash and gravy!

The art of food trend watching

The other day I was asked to fill my blog for Jamie magazine with food trends, what with me being in überhip Berlin and all. I was flattered. But also in a bit of a pickle. It's not that I don't love a good trend, and I love it even better when I am the first one among my foodie friends to catch on. But my method goes like this: I watch, I notice, and then I keep schtum. I like sitting on my secret foodie spots, only to magic them out of a hat when the appropriate person comes to visit, or when I fancy a little indulgence by my own little self.

This is somewhat of a pain when you're a writer in the flimsy world of blogs and magazine articles. If it ain't new and exciting, it ain't worth writing about.

(I'll admit, when making foodie travel stories for Jamie magazine, I may have possibly omitted my very favourite addresses for fear of those places being overrun by tourists. Yes, in my dreams, my audience is way bigger than it probably is, and it follows my advice to the letter.)

When you're a writer, keeping a lid on things often means missing the boat. That closely guarded Italian lunch spot of mine is now featured in the newest edition of Lonely Planet, and it was only the other day that I read about 'my' cool new American foodie magazine in a local Dutch newspaper. Pants. There's hardly any point writing about them now, is there?

So from now on, I will try to be a good girl. I hereby promise not to keep any little gems to myself. Not even my local drinking hole. Or the place to get the best croissant in town. Cross my heart and hope to die.

To put words into action, here are a few weird and wonderful trends I have come across lately. There's only two, mind. I have blog pages to fill after all.

1 German kids are inexplicably snacking on those packets of noodle soup that come with a sachet full of MSG. Only they eat them uncooked, straight from the packet, with the flavourings sprinkled over. Their stomachs must be grateful...

2 Bioshops in Germany are shedding their alternative coats and going for prettier packaging, finally clocking on to the fact that going organic is more than just a leftie lifestyle choice. Just look at this coffee cup (below). Trendy, no?

Eat a lot: Clärchens Ballhaus, Mitte

I know it's supposed to be an institution not to be messed with. Berliners are proud of their Ballhaus and it's very easy to see why. A beautiful building in the middle of the middle (Mitte), a large lush garden with pebbled paths, leafy trees to sit under and lightbulb-sized fairy lights. Inside is the actual ballroom, where you invariably end up witnessing a tango dancing class, a wedding party practising waltzes, or, at the very least, a few cute little girls twirling around on the enormous dance floor pretending to be princesses at their debutante ball.

Berlin's outdoor café secrets

It's that time of year when I want to spend every waking sunshiny minute outside. Summer evenings are a doll here in Berlin - there's oodles of stuff to do, from open air cinema's at every corner to free Shakespeare in the park, from barbecues on the Tempelhofer Feld to buying beers at the Späti and drinking them standing on the Hobrechtbrücke. (No, I'm not sure why you'd do the latter either, unless you're a homeless person or a twelve-year-old who won't be served at a normal bar. But there they are, whole hordes of twenty-somethings who think Kreuzberg is the epitome of cool, planted firmly on the bridge to stay, so perhaps it's something that needs trying. Or maybe I'm just getting old.)

But during daylight hours, life is more complicated for those spending the summer in the city. It's too hot, really, to be out in the sun unless you want to end up burnt to a crisp.  So I've been going around my Kiez, looking for places enjoy a bit of dappled sunlight without the meltdown. These are my favourites, in no particular order.

Golgatha, Victoriapark, Katzbachstraße, Kreuzberg: hidden away in Victoria Park, neighbouring the playground and the sports field is beer garden Golgotha. You'd never guess it's there, yet the café's garden is big and lush. There are beach chairs, rocking benches of the type that belong on a southern American porch, lounge sofas and your average wooden picnic benches to sit on. The shade is plentiful, so is the drink and a grill stand will serve you bratwurst sandwiches and potato salad once you've realised you really don't need to be anywhere else.

3 Schwestern, Bethanienhaus, Mariannenplatz, Kreuzberg: Through the restaurant you go, and down a few steps out again. There you will discover the perfect garden for afternoon tea. High treetops to sit under, amazing cakes and table service; Berlin life doesn't get much better than this.

Hüttenpalast, Hobrechtstraße, Kreuzkölln: I've waxed lyrical about the place before, and if their fabulous food is not enough, you'll find their garden is another reason to check the place out. It's very cosy and very quiet here, so perfect for some outdoor working just off the bustling Hermannplatz.

Lavanderia Vecchia, Flughafenstraße, Neukölln: Looking for an al fresco lunch? At Lavanderia Vecchia a three course lunch is served for as little as €8, while you sit under flapping tea towels drying in the wind (a reference to the fact that this used to be the site of a laundry). There's loads of space, the atmosphere is überrelaxt and you'll have a hard time not ending up chatting to the neighbours living in the Hof, as they all drop in to eat the fabulous lunch fare being served on their doorstep.

Hudson's Cakes, Boppstraße, Graefekiez: Not really a garden, merely a cute selection of seats under the trees on the pavement. Yet, to me, the outdoor seating at the wonderful Hudson's distinguishes itself from the numerous others in the city, and not just because owners Katie and Jim are the loveliest people, their food is a joy and their local vegetable scheme admirable. This is also THE place in town to eat tea and scones, with proper Devonshire clotted cream. So there.

One's life in print

Today's Hot Books section on Amazon contains the autobiography of Olympic diver Tom Daley (My Story, Michael Joseph, £16.99). I've often wondered what you need to do to get an autobiography published. The obvious thing would be to have lived a long life with lots of interesting bits in it, and to have accomplished something extraordinary. Like Steve Jobs perhaps, or Charles Darwin, or Keith Richards.

Then again, everyone has a book written about them these days. For comedians it's a way of proving they can be funny in print too. It gives musicians a chance to broadcast their party hardy ways, and the number of girls they knobbed. And as for politicians? They can finally explain what led them to make that one inexplicable decision that changed the country for ever (or got them fired. Or landed them on the cover of the Sun. Or any combination of the above).

So what makes a person ripe for an autobiography? I suppose 'a long life' isn't all that relevant after all. Justin Bieber has an autobiography and he's a whippersnapper. Anne Frank surely had a story to tell even though she was barely a teenager.  So I won't get all hung up on the fact that Daley is only 18 years old.

Daley has accomplished stuff too. I mean, he's up there on the diving platform right now, competing with the world's best. You could argue that winning an Olympic medal would be nice before you actually write your memoires, but then again, most of us never get this far. I'd brag a little too if I were him.

Right then. How about the 'interesting bits' in his life? I would imagine Daley's spent most of it in a swimming pool, going through the same grueling schedule every day, while his weekends were probably spent competing, also in a swimming pool. (I used to be a competition swimmer at an appallingly low level and even I had to spend most of my spare time in a swimming costume, dripping and shivering away. So there, I do know what I'm talking about.) Still, his life manages to fill 288 pages. I don't think I'll be reading them.