Testing Our Spring Menu – Cooking Between Seasons

Snowdrops in the Garden

As I type this, I’m looking out at the snowdrops in our garden. Brave little things.This is our first February in our home here, and I find myself pausing more than usual – noticing what’s stirring, what’s still sleeping, and what secrets the garden has tucked away beneath the winter soil.

There’s something quietly hopeful about spring bulbs. They don’t rush. They don’t make a fuss. They simply appear when they’re ready.

Simon has been busy out in the cold, working on our raised vegetable beds – rebuilding, feeding the soil, setting up compost at home and in the community garden. All that unseen work that won’t show results for months yet, but will matter enormously later. It feels very much like this season of life and cooking: preparation, patience, intention.

And yet…Despite the promise of spring, the east wind has been biting. Walks leave us chilled to the bone. The log burner is still lit every evening. And supper? Supper needs to feel like a warm hug.

So while I’m planting ideas for spring and summer, I’m still cooking comfort. That in-between space is exactly where our spring menu is being tested.

Busy Kitchen in Spring Light

Cooking Gently, Cooking Honestly

This week has been spent recipe testing – bowls of this, scribbles of that, tasting, adjusting, tasting again. I always say menus aren’t designed, they’re grown. They evolve from what the season offers and what people genuinely want to eat right now.

One thing that’s shaped my cooking more and more over the years is a conscious move away from ultra-processed food. Not with rules or rigidity – just with awareness. When you cook from scratch most days, you start to notice how heavy, flat and unsatisfying overly processed food can feel. No judgement, no perfection – just choosing food that nourishes rather than numbs.

Testing recipes reminds me how powerful simple, honest food can be. A pot on the stove. Ingredients you recognise. Flavours that don’t shout, but stay with you.

Baked Rhubarb with Oats, Honey & Orange

Rhubarb is one of those ingredients that signals change. Sharp, bright, unapologetic. This is not a heavy crumble – more a breakfast-pudding-dessert hybrid that works just as well after supper as it does with yoghurt in the morning.

Serves 4–6

Still life shot of Rhubarb

You’ll need:

• 500g forced rhubarb, cut into chunks

• Zest and juice of 1 orange

• 3 tbsp runny honey

• 1 tsp vanilla extract

• 75g rolled oats

• 40g butter, rubbed into the oats

• 1 tbsp soft brown sugar

How to make it:

1. Heat the oven to 180°C.

2. Tumble the rhubarb into a baking dish with the orange zest, juice, honey and vanilla.

3. Mix the oats, butter and sugar together loosely and scatter over the top.

4. Bake for 30–35 minutes until the rhubarb is soft and the topping golden.

Serve with: Crème fraîche, thick yoghurt or warm custard – depending on how much of a hug you need.

Rhubarb Crown

A little note on UPFs:

Desserts like this remind me how little we need to add when ingredients are good. No thickeners, stabilisers or flavourings – just fruit, fat, sweetness and heat. Simple. Satisfying. Real.

Oh yes — rhubarb gives us so much to play with at this time of year

🍃Here’s a different direction from baked puddings and crumbles: lighter, quietly elegant, and perfect for spring menus.

Lemon Drizzle Loaf Mix

£5.95

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Roast Rhubarb with Cardamom, Vanilla & Blood Orange

This is one of those recipes that feels deceptively special. The rhubarb keeps its shape, the syrup turns jewel-bright, and the flavour is warm, citrusy and gently spiced — not overly sweet, not sharp. It’s refined but unfussy, and endlessly useful.

It’s also a quiet rebellion against ultra-processed desserts: just fruit, spice, heat and time. No gels, no thickeners, no stabilisers — and yet it feels complete.

Serves 4–6

Roast Rhubarb

You’ll need:

• 500g forced rhubarb, trimmed and cut into 5–6cm lengths

• 100g caster sugar (or 75g honey for a softer sweetness)

• Zest and juice of 1 blood orange (or regular orange)

• 1 vanilla pod, split (or 1 tsp good vanilla extract)

• 4 green cardamom pods, lightly crushed

• 50ml water

How to make it:

Preheat oven 180C

1. Place the sugar, water, orange zest and juice, vanilla and cardamom into a wide, shallow baking dish.

2. Put in the oven and cook for ten minutes to allow the flavours to infuse.

3. Add the rhubarb in a single layer. Cover and cook for 15 minutes until just tender but holding its shape.

4. Lift the rhubarb out carefully and set aside.

5. Pour the syrup in a shallow saucepan, bubble the syrup for a few minutes until slightly reduced and glossy.

6. Pour the syrup over the rhubarb and allow to cool.

Rhubarb & Ginger Trifle

Spring Rhubarb and Ginger Trifles

Makes 6  glasses

You’ll need

Base layers

• Roast or poached rhubarb

• Gingerbread

• Stem ginger syrup

Light custard cream

• 300g homemade custard (cold)

• 300g full-fat Greek yoghurt

• 1 tbsp runny honey or icing sugar (optional)

Finish

• A few tablespoons softly whipped cream or thick yoghurt

• Crushed ginger biscuits

Method

Make the light custard cream

• In a bowl, gently whisk the cold custard to loosen it.

• Fold in the yoghurt a spoonful at a time until smooth and softly billowing.

• Taste and sweeten lightly if needed.

Prepare the sponge

• Cut cake into small cubes.

• Place 1–2 cubes into each glass.

• Drizzle very lightly with ginger syrup — this is about aroma, not saturation.

Layer the glasses

• Spoon over a little rhubarb and syrup

• Add 2 tbsp light custard cream

• Repeat twice

Finish to serve

• Top with a small spoon of whipped cream or yoghurt

• Finish with a scattering of crushed ginger biscuits for texture

• Chill for 30–60 minutes before serving — just enough to settle, not set.

These are the desserts people finish without feeling sleepy — and that’s always a good sign.

Food is Love

Testing, Tasting, Sharing

This is the kind of food that’s shaping our spring menu – dishes that honour the season we’re actually in, not the one we wish would hurry up. Food that works for busy lives, for shared tables, for people who want to eat well without overthinking it.

If you’re craving food that feels thoughtful, seasonal and quietly special:

• I’m taking bookings now for spring catering and private dining

• Thermomix demos are available if you’d like to cook more from scratch with less effort

• My cookbooks are full of this in-between style of cooking – rooted, flexible and unfussy

My Spring Kitchen

£12.00

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🌱 Come and cook with me. Come and eat with me.Whether it’s a spring gathering, a holiday-let supper, or a kitchen that needs a little inspiration – I’d love to help.

👉 Visit the website, sign up to the newsletter, or drop me a message on social media and tell me: What’s the first sign of spring you’ve noticed this year?