I scream, you scream, we all scream for….



No, really. Now, I’m a bit of an ice cream connoisseur (in other words, I eat a lot of it), and I would have serious doubts that anything could rival the rich creaminess or citrussy tang of my favourite homemade ice cream – orange, clotted cream and white chocolate, for those asking. But a couple of Saturdays ago, with the sun beating on my shoulders, the heat making a sun trap of our garden, the butterflies skating about in the air, the larks…erm, larking about….I couldn’t possibly face anything bearing the description ‘rich’. Not even a Texan billionaire, and I usually have a terrible soft spot for them.

I also had some slightly overripe strawberries, a full bottle of elderflower cordial, and a burning desire to prove to people that making sorbet is THE EASIEST THING IN THE WORLD, EVER. Actually, I’d say it goes: 1. breathing, 2. making sorbet, and 3. drawing a stick man. (Unless, of course, you’re a particularly inept drawer. That’s draw-er, as in someone who draws, not drawer as in something you keep your underwear in. At least I hope that’s where you keep your underwear, you saucy thing.)

But I digress. Well actually, of course I digress. I mean, you have met me/read my blog, haven’t you? You do know that it’s entirely impossible for me to get straight to the point and not be distracted by some passing whimsy. Oh look! Some passing whimsy! (This is possibly why I had to stop my driving lessons, but that’s another story for another day.)

Yes! So, cooking and that. I’m going to say one more time how MEGA SIMPLE this is, but the hugely pleasing upshot of the whole bally* thing is that every single one of your friends will go ‘ooooooooh, sorbet! Gosh, you must be awfully clever to make that. You’re ever so clever and talented and beautiful’. I’ll just mention here that a) if they don’t say this, then don’t come back to me for any refunds. Although I could probably give you an elderflower or something, and b) if you’re a man just substitute ‘beautiful’ for ‘handsome’. Unless you are a very beautiful man. And if you ARE a very beautiful man and you’re also reading my blog, then hello, future husband.

*I need to apologise/explain the use of ‘bally’ here, for the first time in possibly 50 years. I’ve been reading much too much P.G. Wodehouse lately, and just spend my days looking for ways to shoehorn funny words into sentences. Next week: Shakespeare funny words; ‘zounds’, ‘p’shaw’ and ‘god’s bodkin’. See you there.

What? Oh, right, right, the recipe. Well, if I must.


250g strawberries
125g caster sugar
75ml elderflower cordial
50ml water
Half a lemon

This recipe is slightly bastardised from one of Nigel Slater’s (as the actress said to the bishop. Yes, I’m all about the topical and cutting edge humour today.) But….well, his sounded a bit bloody awful. Sorry Nige. I find you terribly endearing and that. What he was proposing was sorbet and then SYRUP on top. WHAT???? My teeth are already aching at the hideous sweetness of it all. So I actually sort of made this version up.


1. I actually feel like I’m insulting you with this recipe. Just put the sugar, cordial and water in a pan.

2. Bring it to the boil and just let it thicken. Don’t go crazy, just let it thicken up a little bit.

3. Rinse and hull the strawbs. Put them in a blender. Blend them.

4. Cut the lemon in half, and squeeze it into the strawberries. Blend them a little bit more.

5. Just combine the strawbs and the syrup. Mix it.

6. Gosh, well this is awkward….that’s kind of it. Just put it in a suitable container, pop it in the freezer and stir it every few hours to stop those beastly ice crystals forming.

We’re done here. We’re so done.

(Add a few sprigs of mint or redcurrants to jazz it up, if you’re feeling guilty at how easy it all was)

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