The great cream crisis 2008

Kendal has exhausted its supply of cream. Morrisons, Booths, Iceland, and several smaller shops are all out: not a drop of single, nor a blob of double, nor a dollop of extra thick double to be found.

Foodies are staring into the abyss. An elderly man scrapes a dry piece of Christmas pudding around a lonely bowl, the dough moistened only by his tears. Children ask for pudding, too young to understand the terror engulfing our town. Mothers can only bite down on their ring fingers, pensively looking out onto the frosty morning.

I have moved to Leeds, and I am currently emptying what cream I can find into a bath tub.

Nanaimo bars

Nanaimo is "the city so beautiful it's alright to stare". It has a proud tradition of bathtub racing. And it has punched well above its weight in the culinary world, giving us the gift of the Nanaimo bar.

I owe thanks to a former housemate for this discovery, or rather, his Mum; he always brought back a neatly packed box full of the sweets coming back after Christmas.

The recipe is simple, with minimal cooking required. The only thing I did differently was to toast the walnuts after chopping them. This is a universal way of intensifying the flavour of any nuts. I'd also suggest working rapidly with the chocolate topping, as it starts to cool quickly after resting on top of the icing.

Cut them into bite sized chunks. They are far too sickly to have in any kind of quantity, but are perfect with an after dinner coffee.

The recipe is copyright Ben's Mum.

A wholesome recommendation

From the back of "Little Town Dairy" soured cream

Goose for Christmas

In a change from our usual free range chicken, we are having goose this year. Mother scotch woodcock has ordered it from Booths at a cost of £42. My job is thinking up something to do with the leftovers.

That's right: forty-two whole English pounds. Booths, accurately known as "the Waitrose of the North" has a posh xmas catalogue, in which the affluent consumer can order goose, caviar, ribs of beef, smoked salmon, and anything else to aid a luxury food pre-emptive strike against the Joneses. Blinis at dawn.

Inevitably, upstart discount store Aldi has yet again got one over its middle class relatives, by selling whole geese for £15.99. It's there at the bottom, underneath the ladies party tights and CD Rom gift packs.