Food and community – two of my passions. As most people who know me will realise, I love food. It’s a family joke that I remember events and holidays not by the occasion or place visited but by what we ate. But my love of food is not about ticking off a list of must-dine at restaurants, sourcing the best olive oil from the hottest foodie market and impressing with elaborately iced cupcakes, but instead about sharing the experiences of making and eating good food with those around me.

There’s something brilliantly uniting about food; from the banter with a colleague as you hope to find something other than a crumbling half of a digestive biscuit in the communal biscuit tin, to the sense of ‘home’; of belonging and intimacy that comes from sharing a warming Sunday lunch with a group of friends moulding themselves into an adopted family in the strange, exciting and yet so often lonely city we have found ourselves in. Sharing food speaks to something deep within us, about being cared for, nurtured and included. It is something that builds real-world community; brings together people who otherwise may not have ever spoken, and allows them to find common ground over a love of roast potatoes or a hatred of cauliflower!

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