Nigella. Again.

I feel a bit naughty for buying Nigella Lawson's new cookbook, Kitchen, for £13 at Tesco. The list price is £26, which I probably would have paid anyway. But I couldn't resist. It's a chunk of a book. For the price of a decent bottle of red, one gets 490 pages of food porn.

Have tried two recipes so far: scallops with Thai-scented pea puree (p72) was a bit of a slog, as had no Thai paste or peas, so used edamame and broad beans and pesto instead. It was still delicious.

M was at his old practice today, so tried the lemon polenta cake (p272), a gluten-free hunk of deliciousness that M swears he shared with the others at the practice. Oh Nigella, you are indeed the domestic goddess.

I love that there's room to experiment with her dishes. I love that there's a story for each one, usually something that reminds us mortals that she's a person, too (albeit rich and beautiful). I love that her books are marketed exactly to moi: pretty pictures, great writing, lovely paper, clean graphics. And half off at Tesco.

Guilt didn't last long; it's also £13 at WH Smith and Waterstones. Buy it.