I am sitting writing this as the rain streaks the windowpanes, wind is whipping the leaves into a damp confetti that adheres to any object that stays still ling enough. Its only August but the seasons have changed, promises of an Indian Summer quashed by mother nature.

So, my mind travels to comfort. The scent of cinnamon and anise fills the air as the condensation steams the windows. This is where I want to be, in the sanctity of my kitchen, surrounded by the aroma of fruit and spice.

These can adorn any humble turbid vehicle, be it cream, Greek yogurt or ice cream. Or even use them in the most spectacular pie or crumble, life is truly a pudding full of plums….

And finally enjoy this unique metamorphosis you put into play; you can be a kitchen witch like the best of us…

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