• Neil Sowerby
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I grow my own, brave the kitchen heat and know my woozy way around a wine list. Welcome to my post-lockdown world…

You may call it a blog if you must. It’s certainly a change of direction I’ve been putting off through years of journalistic hyper-activity. The lockdowns have made me reassess the food and drink I really care about. I feel refreshed and free of restraint. Even so. Please excuse the solipsistic sounding neilsowerby.co.uk. It’s not just about me. More the discoveries I want to share. Read more…

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The Spärrows – a culinary migration that hits those Alpine heights

Priest Stranglers and Little Sparrows are not quite the odd bedfellows they sound. Both find common ground in the North Italian city of Trento (above), glorious gateway to the Dolomites. The Trentino has always been wrangled over by Italy and…

Beery bollekes and a buxom helping of Rubens in Flemish capital of cool Antwerp

Fashion and diamonds, waffles and ales – Antwerp’s a heady mix even before its surreal side creeps up on you. And it will. Just let it. Rubens and Bruegel, the gabled Grote Markt and the soaring Flemish Gothic cathedral offer you art and…
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Heuvelland to Norland – imperial porter meets kabucha gnocchi at the Moorcock

It’s a 30 mile meander across the West Flanders fields from Dranouter in Heuvelland to Dottignies in French-speaking Wallonia. You’re always just in Belgium but aware that this is border country, in the hinterland of France’s fifth largest…

Requiem for the guac – why I’m smashing avocado out of my life

Breaking up is so hard to do, but I’ve made my decision. Tonight’s guacamole will be the last I ever prepare. In future my signature fish tacos may have to make do with just a piquant pico de gallo pairing. I chop up (not too finely) chunks…
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Nigel Haworth: why the reborn Three Fishes will not be living in the past

A wet Wednesday morning in Mitton, Lancashire and I am admiring a tub of saffron milkcaps. Or to give this delectable wild mushroom its even more exotic Latin tag: Lactarius deliciosus. Not to be confused with the Woolly Milkcap (Lactarius…

My Italian Food Trail: Tiramisù, the aphrodisiac?

Darkness at noon, torrential rain battering the skylight of my attic office. Can’t get out of my head how many private jets flew in the world leaders to that climate change summit in Glasgow and how ironic that doomsday weather has crippled…
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