Satsuma peel, just out of the sugar syrup at the very beginning of the drying process

I’m going to be making panforte very soon. One of the absolute keys to its success is that you make your own candied peel to go in it.

It’s not as hard as it sounds and if you wanted to make extra for bagging into presents, just double the quantities. You need to make it about two days in advance so a good idea to make this now if you want to try panforte. I got this recipe from the Waitrose magazine a few years ago, but I cut it down to make just enough (ish) for my panforte.

You need:

The peel from two oranges cut up into strips. Or one orange and one lemon.

You can, in theory (and I have done this perfectly successfully) just use the peel from some satsumas that you’ve eaten. In other words, you don’t really need to sacrifice two perfectly good oranges. Especially given that you’ll be chopping the peel up, not presenting it.

250g granulated sugar

some caster sugar for afterwards.

If you’re using the quantities above, i.e. not very much, use a small saucepan. Put the orange peel/satsuma peel in the saucepan and cover with cold water. Bring to boil and simmer hard for 15 minutes. Drain, cover with fresh cold water and do the same, this time cooking it for another 11-20 mins. You want the peel to be tender, but not mushy so watch it if you’re using thin peel from satsumas. Thick peel from oranges may take longer.

Whilst that’s happening, put the sugar in a saucepan with 125ml of cold water. Slowly bring to the boil so the sugar dissolves. Remove from heat.

Drain the tender peel and put it in the sugar syrup. Put the pan back on the heat and simmer for about an hour – uncovered – until there is very little syrup left. Leave it longer if need be.

Be careful as sugar syrup is very hot so whilst you can leave it unattended you do need to make sure you haven’t got any monkey children that can reach this.

When done, lift out using tongs and place onto baking parchment lined baking trays. Leave it somewhere to dry out for two days. I put it in a (switched off) warming drawer. When it’s dried out, put the caster sugar in a small plastic bag (how much you use is up to you, you know like a handful) and throw the peel in, shake it around and you have candied peel! I then leave it back on the tray to set for a few hours before using it.

These are the bath bombs in their cases, drying.

Bath bombs usually come in a ball shape (SpaceNK’s come in tablet form, tray posh) and you chuck them in the bath and they fizz like a giant Alka Seltzer and can also colour the water at the same time. Some also have things in them, like flower petals, that are then released into the water and float around like…floatsam or jetsam or whatever it is. I’d look it up but I’m meant to be writing a Very Important Piece about something terribly grown up, and if I go and look up the difference between floatsam and jetsam, before I know it, it’ll be midnight and I’ll have got onto a  Killer Whale site and enrolled on (another) trip to Antarctica.

Bath bombs cost a disproportionate amount of money for what they are. So for ages, since I bought one in Lush and almost died at the price, I’ve been really determined to make our own. I mean, how hard can they be? I can make sourdough bread FFS.

Well they’re not hard to make. Not hard at all. But finding a recipe for them was not easy. This may have changed since I last looked, and you’ll probably now all post links to 25 different sites where you can find a recipe for bath bombs. But look, when I looked there were very few, or they were all hard to follow. I’m guessing this is because they don’t want you to know how easy and cheap it can be to make because bath bombs must have a mark up of about 12,000 percent. Although that said, you do need to make them on a fairly small industrial scale as the ingredients aren’t always easy to find locally (do try though, eh?) and so you probably will spend about £12 on them, or something (I haven’t actually added it up as I’m easily distracted).

What I’m getting at is that you will probably have to make a few to get value for money.

It’s a good idea to wear a pair of disposable gloves, we always have a box on the go for cleaning out the chickens, working on the car etc, we get ours from Lakeland but most supermarkets now sell ‘one use gloves’ (which is a lie cos you can use them more than once). I also find wearing some sort of mask (or Hermes scarf tied round your face if you’re posh) an idea since I get a right sore throat after making these. They’re probably carcinogenic or something. But you have to suffer for your home made crafts. Ask Kirstie Allsop.

Then you need a bowl and ultimately you’ll need something to put your bath bombs into. We used little paper muffin cases but those silicon muffin trays would be ideal. Although the bath bombs we made are small (they’re for my daughter’s Christmas cards to her school friends, we always make cards with use, but I know I will have to put a ticket in them saying Bath Bombs DO NOT EAT), but bath bombs work best when made a bit bigger – they give a longer fizz and will colour the water more effectively.

The ingredients you will also need are sodium bicarbonate, citric acid, corn starch (cornflour works fine), some food colouring, some essential oils and some glycerine. Now you can buy all of these ingredients (save for the food colouring) from your local chemist or online from Summer Naturals.

Decide on what you’d like to use as a measure, it could be a table spoon or a cup, depending on how many you’d like to make. I’ve found you always need more than you think.

Then you take

2 measures of sodium bicarbonate
1 measure of citric acid
1 measure of corn starch
a few drops of food colouring
a few drops of good quality essential oils – I use lavender and orange, you could I suppose also use your favourite perfume, but I’ve not tried this  yet (all my perfumes are in spray bottles anyway so not sure how I’d do this).
and a good few squirts of glycerine

It’s not madly precise because you don’t have to be. You mix it all together with gloved hands (if you don’t have gloves use a spoon. It’s a bit like making an apple crumble and rubbing the butter and flour together. When you get a handful of the mixture and press it together it should stay, if it doesn’t add a bit more glycerine and corn starch.  You then pack it really tightly into whatever mould you’re using and let it dry out overnight/for a few days. Put it in an airing cupboard if you’ve got one. Then turn them out and they’re ready to use or give as presents.

You could also added dried flower petals to the mix, which would be nice I guess.

Christmas wreath made from stuff from my garden

As a child, when you just don’t appreciate what you have, because you are a selfish, selfish little bastard, I was very keen to live in a huge house in America. I’d seen them on films. Double fronted houses with ballroom size rooms, fridges you could live in and gardens you inevitably got married in.

What I had was a two bedroomed flat in central London with no garden. Not even a window box. Nevermind that to have a house that big, you generally had to live in Wisconsin. Nevermind that, growing up, when all my friends had to take two buses and a train home, I could almost walk home or take an affordable taxi. Nevermind that I was near all the shops and, importantly, John Lewis. Nevermind that I never knew a world existed outside of Zone 1. (Does it?)

Come Christmas, I really wanted a wreath on my door. But this seemed completely out of place in our block of flats. So I never had one and thus, dear reader, I have been chasing Christmas wreaths ever since.

When I finally wrenched myself out of the west end and moved into Old Street, I had a huge, 2″ steel door which I decorated every Christmas with a wreath from Columbia Flower Market. It was not cheap.

When I moved to the country I decided to make my own wreath. After all, now that I had a garden to plunder why should I pay for someone else’s green frippery. But how to start? This is where the wonderful mums on I Want My Mum (a website I co-founded and now no more) helped me out. Someone directed me to this site. Now look. This isn’t the most glamorous site. But let me help you. What you need are these padded wreath bases, which as you will see, are cheap. They are great because, being green, even if you have gaps it doesn’t really show. We make a big one for the front door and a small one for the playhouse.

You gather lots of foliage (a word I can’t pronounce) and tie it round the wreath with this wreath binding wire. It takes a bit of practise but we always make really great  looking wreaths. I wouldn’t recommend the berries you can buy on  that site – too artificial looking, best if you can get some real ones (although if you live in the country, the birds swop down and try to eat them). I also add dried slices of orange and apple, you can add pine cones, whatever you damn well please. (Dry the fruit in a really low oven overnight or use a dehydrator.)

It’s a fun thing to do by yourself, with the children, etc. And aside from the wreath base (which you can re-use each year) it shouldn’t cost you anything if you can forage the foliage.

This blog is about things I, personally, use (consume!). And I haven’t used, or even tried, this new coffee machine from Miele.

The new Miele CM5100 Barista Coffee machine, approx £1000

But I am a veteran of coffee machines (my father was one of London’s original baristas) and I’ve had a Miele built in coffee machine for nearly two years now. You can read a full review of the one I have (the CVA 5060) here. The Barista has just launched.

It’s a first for Miele because previously you could only get a bean machine that was built in, the only freestanding coffee machine they did used Nespresso capsules, which not everyone liked for various reasons. Personally I wouldn’t touch a Nestle product.

So to be clear: I haven’t tried this machine. But I do rate Miele coffee machines as the best domestic coffee machines you can buy and if it makes coffee anything like the machine I’ve got, you’re in for a treat. Most domestic machines (and in fact, all of the ones I’ve ever tested) haven’t got enough steam action for the milk. The Miele one does.

(A nice thing to do in this weather – if you’re not driving – is to make an espresso correto, which is an espresso with a dash of brandy/whisky.)

Many, many years ago, when I had, really, nothing better to do with my time, I used to wear stockings and suspenders.  I actually think that girls who wear stockings and suspenders aren’t my sort of girl. It’s so tried at. And let me tell you, despite what ANYONE says, they ain’t comfortable.

But I did. Possibly because I was less sure of myself or had the kind of life where putting stockings and suspenders on was a feasible enterprise of a morning.

One day I was wearing trousers. Smart trousers. I put on some shoes that really needed hosiery with them, not socks. But I was wearing trousers. It’s on occasions such as these I guess you wear pop sox. But pop sox are, absolutely, not my thing. I totally see they fulfil a purpose but not any purpose I’ve come up against so pressingly that I’ve had to put them on. I find them depressing. So I put on my stockings and suspenders under my trousers which, let me tell you, is dedication to duty.

Now all that was bizarre enough. Except at the time (this is relevant) I was on the Pill (if any member of my family is reading this, that’s a pill for medical reasons and nothing whatsoever to do with, you know, the sex). And as the day progressed, I developed this rather alarming pain in my leg.

For those of you who don’t know, the Pill increases your risk of DVT (deep vein thrombosis). I worked in Soho (of course) and around the corner was a family planning clinic. So I dropped in and said “I’m on the pill and I’ve got this really alarming pain in my leg”.

This really nice, hippy-ish doctor saw me. He had a pony tail and I remember him because he was so nice. “Well, pop your trousers off and lie on the bed so I can have a look at your leg” he said kindly. “I’ll be back in a minute.” And off he went.

This flung me into deep panic. I knew the procedure for removing my trousers. And if I’d been wearing pop sox I would probably have removed both of them. If I’d been wearing tights (WHY hadn’t I just worn tights?) I would obviously remove the whole tight. But I was wearing stockings, what should I do? Remove both of them? This just seemed odd. If I did that should I also remove my suspender belt? Didn’t that seem like too much undressing? Would he wonder why I was undressing so much? Should I keep my stockings on? No unthinkable, he clearly needed to examine my leg. So I did what any other insane person would do. I removed just one stocking and laid myself on the bed. The doctor came back, and of course he didn’t raise an eyebrow at my one stockinged leg, one naked leg.

But I felt really fucking stupid.

I got the all clear, at least physically, and got dressed and went back to my office.

“I saw a really nice doctor” I said. I described him. “Oh Hank Wangford” someone said, “the Country and Western singer! He works there as a doctor.” I don’t know why, but this made everything so much worse.  Actually it could have been worse still. It could have been Rich Hall.

This brings me, not neatly at all, to my current craze with finding Good Socks to Wear with Trousers. For years now, ever since I ditched the stockings and suspenders under trousers (under anything) I’ve searched for proper socks that reach to the knee, but are of really good quality and of fine denier (of an ‘unimaginable thinness’ as an interview with Julio Iglesias once said of his socks) that could be worn under trousers.

I’ve never found them. And now that I’m older, wiser, have children and live in the country, my concern is not with thin socks but good knee socks. This means they need to be: warm, comfortable (I will not wear socks that are itchy), nice looking and preferably have a high wool content (but not be itchy, have I mentioned I don’t like itchy). Not to wear with ‘fine shoes’ but to wear tucked into boots/wellies and under trousers. Preferably in plain colours and not mentally expensive. I know you can get cashmere knee socks for £35, thank you.

The hardest criteria to fulfil, as you will see, is that the socks are plain. Even when the other boxes are ticked, finding plain socks in wool, blah blah blah: impossible (not if you’re a man, cos you have delicious Pantherella socks, but I can’t wear those as they’re too big).

Burlington argyle socks are not plain, but great in every other sense. They’re not cheap at a tenner each, but I’ve always preferred to have less, good stuff than lots of rubbishy things. I go by ‘price per wear’ when shopping these days (as you can when you don’t have to slavishly follow fashion). Plus I’ve had two pairs of these socks for seventeen years and they are only just wearing out. But you try finding women‘s Burlington knee socks, in wool, available to buy in the UK. And when you do, tell me. I’ve found plenty places that promise to do them, but you either get there and they’re cotton, or they’re ankle socks or something else is not right.

I went into Johnny Loulou’s recently and just wanted to tear my hair out at the lack of warm knee socks that didn’t cost £30 plus. I did however, find these in John Lewis and they do address most of the issues, except, whilst I like the stripes for a bit of fun, it’d be nice to also have them in plain colours; but hey that’s really asking too much it seems.

John Lewis wool (40%), silk,  nylon, elastane sock, £8.50.

Recently I discovered some really useful, every day black over the knee socks from the M&S children’s department. These cost £4 for two. They’re cotton rich, so not warm in particular but they’re great for chucking on when it’s not too cold and you need some knee socks (they’re longer than knee socks but you get the idea). In fact the girls’ department of M&S threw up some pretty good socks, because they go up to a grown up size 7. There are these for example which have a bit of angora in them that are really nice.

I have some excellent, really long, really warm, dark cherry-red cashmere socks that I bought from Ollie and Nic some years ago. They are great to wear with my sheepskin boots but no good to anyone else as they’re not stocked anymore.

In the end the shop that had the best selection: patterned, plain, not expensive, comfortable (not wool but warm) was Uniqlo £6.99 a pair. I know I mentioned this company only yesterday but hey ho. Or rather ho ho ho.

A couple of years ago, I was sent two stretchy T-shirts from Uniqlo. One was a cream crew neck, the other a purple scoop neck. I read the first two lines of the press release, as you do, before putting it into the recycling. I gleaned enough information to learn this was some sort of modern thermal wear.

And they were relegated to my drawer.

Most of my life, I’ve worn Damart underwear. As a child, my mum got them sent over from my Parisian uncle – bright turquoise, short-sleeved thermal vest t-shirts. I can’t say I liked them. When I got undressed for PE I stood out like a traffic incident sign.

As soon as I could, I stopped wearing vests and started getting sexy with my La Perla underwear. I was fashion editor of a national newspaper, I had my place in the front row at shows to think of.

When I became fishing correspondent of the Independent, all this changed and keeping warm on the banks of huge rivers in Scotland, in January, became a keen quest. I tried all the thermal underwear I could get my hands on Patagonia (most of my other fishing clothing-kit was Patagonia, and it was/is excellent), Marks and Spencer, Damart and various others that I’ve long forgotten the names of. It was all pretty useless. Except for Damart (see, Mamma knew a thing or two and let me tell you, she still does). Thankfully, its designs have improved since my turquoise vest days. However, the catalogue is still crap and they really should redesign it because there are some really pretty little vests that they do, in great colours, that are hidden hidden hidden in amongst the hip huggers and giant slippers that you put both feet into.

Anyway. The one problem with Damart underwear (I still recommend it as the warmest thermals you can buy) is that you cannot, under any circumstances, tumble dry it. And, as is the way when you’re busy, the odd vest does sneak in and then it shrinks. So I had a lot of Damart vests that were really small. When I was pregnant they barely covered my breasts, let alone my bump as well.

At the bottom of the drawer, recently, I rediscovered my Uniqlo Heattech t-shirts. Now, they are not super warm. Don’t go putting them on expecting to be able to step out on a freezing day and not feel the cold. But they are a really useful warm, extra layer. The t-shirts come in three styles: crew, polo or scoop. But you can also get leggings, tights, socks, leg warmers, SHORTS. I went into the Oxford Street store on Friday and stocked up with socks, more t-shirts, nearly bought leg warmers but didn’t (wish I had) and the leggings had sold out.

The fibres are all synthetic (acrylic, polyester, viscose, elastane – the generic name for Lycra which is a brand name), but I’ve tested them RIGOROUSLY and even after a hard day’s cycling/being on the tube/rushing round London there is no stinkiness. The t-shirts are so fine and stretchy and LONG (BRILLIANT if you’re pregnant by the way).  You can read all about the technology here. The t-shirts work brilliantly under jumpers (I hate jumpers right next to my skin). They are also thin enough to wear under dresses.

T-shirts cost £12.99, but until 22nd December you can buy two for £19.99. Don’t panic if you’re not near a store, you can buy everything on line.

Addendum added 17th December: the leg warmers are weird. They’re seamed, so not as stretchy as they could be. I have really slim calves and I can just about get them to knee height. So these are fine if you want to wear them a la Fame, as ankle warmers, but for anything else be warned they’re not very stretchy.

£4 from Paperchase

I saw these today in Paperchase. They are lovely. They slide flat so you can post them but spring up to be a ‘snowglobe’. There are various designs, from a fairly minimalist snowflake, Christmas trees, this one (Christmas in the Country, got it for my eldest as she’ll love the detail), a Santa and of course a nativity scene (that IS what it’s about, despite what Coca Cola would tell us).

Not cheap at £4 but my eldest and I make all our other cards, so it’s nice for her to have something from her folks that she’s not expecting. Last year we bought each other laser cut wooden Christmas decoration cards from Igloo which were beautiful. (Not sold on the website but if you have a branch  near you see if they do them again this  year.)

Here are my little amaretti dusted in icing sugar.

 
Amaretti means ‘little bitters/little bitter things’. I’m not exactly a fan of the really brittle, very bitter amaretti  you can get, although they’re very nice crumbled onto peaches bound for the oven, or layered with berries, coulis and mascarpone for a really easy summer dessert. I am a fan of the really chewy ones, the ones that cost a fortune, so I’ve always tried to recreate them at home, often to great disappointment. The recipe in Indulge by Claire Clarke of the French Laundry was possibly the worse ever. My God they were awful (other things in this book weren’t, so an aberration).

Anyway, Joanna of Zeb Bakes recently posted a recipe for Hazelnut Amaretti which I was determined to try.

I’m not a fan, believe it or not, of things coated in chocolate. Like I cannot understand people who coat strawberries in chocolate. It’s all wrong to me. So I had no desire, whatsoever, to coat or drizzle my amaretti. But if you have such a desire, do follow Joanna’s recipe in its entirety and not the one below.

Anyway, here’s what I did.

250g of ground almonds
250g hazelnuts, with skin on, ground in my mill attachment of my Kenwood chef (note: Joanna used 200g hazelnuts and 50g of pistachios, I didn’t have any of the latter)
4 egg whites
400g caster sugar
half a teaspoon of Amaretto di Saronno

You basically mix everything up together. You don’t whisk up the egg whites. You’ll end up with a sticky, heavy dough which tastes very nice. Roll out little balls and place on a baking  tray lined with parchment.

Now, perhaps if your dough is wetter, the amaretti will spread out more. My dough was sticky but solid and so my amaretti didn’t spread and thus I was able to get quite a few on my baking tray. Don’t ask me  how  many this recipe  makes cos I didn’t count but I’d say at least 30!

Bake at 160C. Joanna says between 12 mins and half an hour. I did my first batch for 29 mins which resulted in a very crisps amaretto with some chew inside – I actually really like them like this and they look golden (they should still be soft when you take them out as they firm up as they cool). I did the other batches for 20-22 mins which resulted in a paler, much chewier amaretto. Experiment and see how you like them.

They are excellent and very filling! I was thinking that these are a relatively high protein biscuit – with the nuts and the egg whites and gluten free. Would  make delightful little presents too as they travel well.

I know loads of people have written about the iPad, and I’m not attempting to compete with them (or anyone, actually). What I will try to do is give my impression of the iPad because I found out certain things, after owning one, that I didn’t know. And you might not, either.

Why buy an iPad?

Well this is a good question. Lots of people asked me this when I expressed wanting one on Twitter and Facebook. And oh gosh yes, in real life. “It’s just a big iPhone” they said. Well, der, it’s not actually since it’s not a phone, for one.

I’m writing this on my iPad, a feat I could not have managed, easily, or whilst still retaining my sanity, on my iPhone. I wanted an iPad because we don’t have a computer in the house. This isn’t some grand statement. I think computers are great and like all things, if used wisely can augment rather than diminish, real life. I also think they have a real place in educating children and that we shouldn’t be so afraid of them. If you’ve ever watched a young child – as I have – use technology – you realise not to be so afraid of this union. When I interviewed Dr Joan Freeman recently, who has conducted the longest ever study of gifted children, she said there was a direct connection between being gifted so young and access to IT.

But we don’t have a computer in the house because the laptop we did have is now about four years, which in computer years is equivalent to being a hundred (one human year = 25 computer ones, source: Barbieri, 2010) and it’s so slow as to now be unworkable with. Plus, PLUS, the battery went just as it was out of guarantee, so it can’t recharge (and a new battery costs £100), thus it has to be plugged in the whole time, so it has neither the portability of a laptop, nor the capability of a desk top model.

So I was faced with a dilemma – to have on computer in the house for me is unthinkable, but get a new laptop? Not at £1000 a pop (I only do Macs, I’ve only ever only done Macs so don’t go telling me about your PC wonder, I’m not listening). The iPad was a really viable alternative. Not because I expected to write a novel on it – I sit on the sofa and write with a fountain pen on my Basildon Bond for that – but because I need something to be able to answer emails on in more than the three misspelt words the iPhone allows. I wanted to be able to look something up on the internet easily and I wanted to be able to update my blogs.

All the essentials of life. I have a big fuck off Mac in my office for work, writing articles and writing letters in giant font. What I wanted for my home computer was a bit of fun, but also, ease. The iPad looked ideal except for one important detail – no keyboard. I can’t be fucking doing with a virtual keyboard. I need a proper functioning keyboard for my super fast digits (120wpm typing speed, oh yes). Whilst the keypad that the iPad offers is bigger than the one the iPhone does, it was still one of those touch-screen things. No use to me and my bendy digits.

Then I realised that you could get a keyboard. A proper keyboard, that the iPad slots into. It costs £55 and it renders the iPad into a little mini computer, quite a beautiful thing actually. I was sold.

A note here: do not buy the cover that Apple makes for the iPad if you intend to get the keyboard. The cover (£30) fits on to snuggly and to get it off (and you need to get it off to fit it onto the keyboard slot) is hair-pullingly frustrating. If you plan to carry your iPad around with you, then get a zip up cover.

I got the most basic model (WiFi, 16GB) because my thinking went like this:

I didn’t want my iPad to be a travelling device as such: I have an iPhone for that.
I didn’t need to store loads of stuff. I have a desk top computer and if I want to put films and photos on and I run out of space, I just delete stuff. So the 16GB is fine for me.
I didn’t need 3GS, not only does this need a separate SIM (with contract), but I had an iPhone for that. So I use my iPad at home on wireless.

By the time I’ve grown out of my iPad the chances are it will have broken, died, be superceded by a model so much fancier and more able. Sad but true. When I bought my laptop just four/a hundred years ago, it was the latest Mac laptop, now it looks as modern as a rag and bone man.

Much is made of the iPad’s incredible battery life, but IN WHAT WORLD?? If you use it for anything that involves grabbing information from the outside world, the battery lasts from sunrise to sunset and not a moment longer. And it takes FOR EVER to recharge. Not like the iPhone which can take a 100% charge in an hour or so. My iPad has to charge all night (it, I’m sure, takes less time than that but I recharge it at night) to be at 100% in the morning.

You also need OS10.6 to use it. No-one told me this. Or at least, I didn’t register it. My desktop computer is three and a half years old and was running 10.3, so when I got the iPad I had to wait to update the OS (you can just buy the latest Snow Leopard at about £25 and it works fine, you don’t need to buy the Snow Leopard before that one, or at least that’s what my Mac expert tells me and it worked fine for me) and install it before I could use my iPad. If you already have an iPhone you can transfer all your apps over – all but the camera/phone reliant apps go over (since the iPad has no camera or phone) easily. But, they come out on the bigger iPad screen the same size as the iPhone. You can blow them up (there is a x2 button that appears on the bottom right hand side of your screen) so that they fill the screen but the resolution goes somewhat.

When you go to the iTunes store you can see which apps are made specifically for the iPad, and these will make proper use of the bigger screen. Otherwise, with some exceptions, you’re looking at a small-screen in a big screen unless you blow it up.

The Mail and iCal functions are much better on the iPad. There still isn’t full search capability on Mail – you can only search by mailbox. So for example, on my full size computer if I want to search for an email from Miuccia Prada (name drop, name drop) I can simultaneously search for one from her across all my mail boxes and it will find it. On the iPad it can only do one folder at a time, so you’d have to search you ‘inbox’ first, then ‘sent’ then ‘trash’ then any other folders/mail boxes you had. This is minor, but important if it’s a function you use a lot. Safari is used in exactly the same way as on a desk top model, just you get a smaller screen. But you still have your book marks and everything. I can also do banking on my iPad whereas I couldn’t on the iPhone (this varies according to which bank you’re with though). Note that, as per the iPhone, you can’t access Flash sites on the iPad.

You can only get photos onto your iPad by importing them through iTunes (or I guess whatever you use on PC, I only know about iTunes) or – what I do and find infinitely easier as most of my photos these days are taken on my iPhone – email them to myself.

I wouldn’t want to read on it for ages – it’s backlit and so it hurts my eyes. And I don’t find it super light to hold for ages either, not one-handed  like a book. I don’t read many books (other than for work, so I tend to do that at my desk) and if book reading is your thing, I’d look at a Kindle which is a totally different thing from the iPad anyway..

Some apps I like:

MiTypewriter, £1.19 – this is my eldest’s favourite app – it’s an old fashioned type writer. Gorgeous fun. You can email what you write to yourself and then print it out from your desk top machine. Makes a lovely tip tapping noise and you get to push the whatchamacall it to make the page go up (what is that thing called).

Notebooks for iPad, £5.49 – I first had this on my iPhone and I use it to store recipes and shopping lists on (so they’re always to hand, when I’m shopping). I can’t pretend it didn’t nearly blow my head off setting it up on  my iPhone. It’s much easier on the iPad, I can’t work out if that’s cos I already knew a bit about it or it’s changed or what. So if you scare easily this might not be for you, but there’s lots of help and the developer is very good at replying to emails.

iQuarium HD, £1.19 – this is a virtual aquarium. You ‘earn’ points by keeping the fish alive and feeding it. You trade the points in for rocks, gravel, water plants. I can’t pretend it’s the best aquarium out there – I’m sure there are others. But it’s fun for five mins a day and children will like it. Note: if you don’t feed the fish it will eventually ‘die’, so be careful out there if you cry easily.

Little Things, £1.79 – a beautifully designed game. You search for various items in a picture made up of hundreds of objects. I love this app. It looks great and it’s a bit of gentle fun (although it does make me go a bit cross eyed after a while, it’s the staring so intently and the backlit screen).

Corkulus, £2.99 – this is a virtual cork board. You can add virtual post it notes, to do lists and photos. It’s a great idea, but I have to say that to really work it needs an even bigger screen than the iPad. So it’s a little indulgent, but I like to think I have a virtual corkboard on my iPad, I mean, just in case I have to story board something, like you do..

Real Solitaire HD for iPad, £1.19 (free version also available but you get ads and I kept clicking on them by mistake and it got annoying) – again there are many card apps out there, this just happens to be the one I have. This is the app I use the most – I am currently obsessed with playing Patience/Solitaire.

My first Italian words, £1.19 – I really liked the graphics on this. It helps you spell very basic Italian words. Good accent and really lovely design (hey, it’s important!)

I’ve got about twelve million other apps – ones that tell me which stars are in the sky, various games that you’ll all already heard of – what I’ve tried to do is highlight apps you may not have heard of and that I find particularly fun/useful.

Do I regret buying it? Not in the slightest, it’s fun,  useful and portable although ironically I tend to keep it docked to the keyboard in the kitchen for recipe looking up more than anything.