I'm not sure how I ended up writing a cookbook. I started out with stories and found that they evoked memories of food. The more I wrote, the more fitting it seemed to accompany the text with recipes. There is no unifying theme to this compilation - it has arisen organically from the random ruminations on my past. These recipes, like life, encompass the fabulous and the ordinary, attractive and homely; some are full of history while others are recent adventures. This isn't some glossy production full of carefully composed images, professionally illuminated and photographically fussed over - no, these pictures are taken hastily with my iPhone, fending off impatient family and friends who are eager to tuck in, and who have to be elbowed out of the way and told firmly to behave themselves. It's funny how life turns out - all wonky and random despite the careful planning, and by way of illustration I have shared with you some autobiographical vignettes, punctuated with recipes for jam and stew. Food after all is not merely the summation of calories and nutrients, for it embodies history and culture. Certain dishes align themselves with places or events, while others conjure a mood or milieu. The recipes in this book are part of the fabric of my life, and I hope that at least some will weave their way into yours. ...and if you're not interested in the recipes you can at least have a bloody good laugh at my misfortunes.