As promised, we've dusted off our grease splattered notebooks, attempted to mend the wobbly 'shift' key on the work laptop and pulled our neglected blog boots back on in time for spring and all its promises. This week we're treating you to a brand new recipe straight from the hobs.

There are no words to describe just how challenging our new venture, French & Grace, has been for us. Which is why there have been no words on this blog of late. We haven't been able to come and write here, even if we'd wanted to (which, we must admit,.

You poor, hungry people. We know - we left you, totally abandoned, discarded like the dirty wrapper on a late night kebab. We're sorry. We're hungry too. These last 2 months, since our sojourn in Italy (seems like years ago - where on earth did the summer go?) have been.

There's nothing we love more than a hunk of hot chorizo.Vegetarians aside, who can resist the punchy scent of paprika and garlic smoking in the air and the tantalising ooze of bright, rusty-red oil in the pan? Chorizo features consistently in our cooking because it's such an easy treat -.

Hello. Hello. And apologies for abandoning you and your rumbling bellies for quite this long. If it's any consolation, we haven't been sitting around watching Loose Women and twiddling our thumbs. Since last we wrote, Rosie got hitched, the next chapter of our book neared completion and our brand spanking.

Sometimes, the best away around getting on with work is just not to do any at all. So it was on Tuesday, when we sat down to write recipes together, that we found ourselves distracted by the thought of lunch, and a lunch that that would take a.

As promised, I thought I'd slip in a recipe more in keeping with the Siberian winds and sheet ice outside. In this harsh climate, the thing to do is embrace your inner cave woman, abandon cold cutlery and devour plates of piping hot meat on the bone with your bare.

Buying fish in Brixton isn't a particularly relaxing experience. If you end up in the wrong place you're likely to be jeered at and bullied into buying a limp old snapper with cloudy, bloodshot eyes and a forlorn expression – in fact the aggressive front of.