The Cookery School recently hosted a special cookery class for young adults with diabetes. The event was organised by the diabetes transition team from the Elsie Bertram Diabetes Centre at the Norfolk and Norwich University Hospital.
The latest diet that’s threatening to hit the mainstream is - at least - one that shouldn’t cause us too much consternation in the kitchen when the lists of dietary requirements come through.
We are very proud to announce that the Richard Hughes Cookery School is now a Children's University learning destination.
I must admit, even when I was based in the countryside, I never really embraced the foraging fad. The thought of searching for edible freebies in hedgerows, damp woods and the blustery seashore just doesn’t float my boat.
Yes it's true, a disaster has been happening live on the nation's Twitter feed, the hot topic of last month being yet another food shortage: this time the removal of the hummus pot from the shelves of a number of supermarket behemoths.
Cooking, like kissing, is all about confidence. So it comes as no surprise to read of student Bee Patel’s shock and horror upon finding that she’s struggling to contemplate a return to the kitchen after failing her pastry exam at the London branch of the famed Le Cordon Bleu Cookery School.
Wayne Sleep took a short break from starring in the Norwich Theatre Royal panto to demonstrate his signature Cornish Pasty recipe.
A Norfolk chef will be celebrating Norwich Market’s incredible food offer with a brand new cookery course which involves picking treats from underneath the colourful canopies before preparing a fresh and local feast with the ingredients.
Hallowe'en seems to get bigger and bigger every year - some people appear to have made more of an effort for October 31 than for December 25. Even food is being influenced, though as a menu obsessive I struggle with the idea of ghoul-ash, severed finger food and devil's food cake that seem to appear on every other restaurant's bill of fare at the end of October.
It’s a real thrill to be recognised: I’m often greeted at The Lavender House as Mr Adlard or Mr Hickman. On civvy street, people I served only the night before will gaze at me quizzically, desperately trying to place where they’ve seen me before. “I didn’t recognise you with your clothes on!” is a regular refrain, the customer being more used to seeing me in bedraggled whites instead of pushing a trolley down a supermarket aisle in jeans and a t-shirt.