The best market in town only rolls by once a month, and I’m a little ashamed to say, I hardly ever visit it. Something to do with never quite rising early enough to get to the stalls before they’ve either nearly sold out or completely packed up. Favourable Spring weather last weekend however, forced my hand (and my alarm clock).

My market bag filled up very quickly with farm eggs for a cake, strawberries to snack on, bunches of pungent herbs, baby tomatoes bright and colourful like little jewels, and a bundle of Easter egg radishes. The trip left me very inspired and I couldn’t wait to come home and start cooking with my purchases. Oh wait, did I say cook? Actually, I sliced up the tomatoes, made a quick dressing and in no time at all, was tucking into an early lunch.

Spring never tasted so good.

Tamarind dressing for a tomato salad :
(serves 4; recipe by Neil Perry)

25g tamarind pulp
2 tablespoons light palm sugar
15ml light soy sauce
60ml extra virgin olive oil

Combine the tamarind pulp and 1 tablespoon of hot water in a bowl. Stand for 10 minutes or until soft, then push through a fine sieve, discarding seeds and set aside.

Combine the sugar with 2 teaspoons of water in a saucepan and cook for 3 minutes over medium heat or until caramelised, add tamarind water and soy sauce. Cool to room temperature, then gradually add olive oil, whisking continuously until emulsified. Makes about ½ cup.

(To serve, slice tomatoes and toss through with plenty of salt, pepper, torn mint leaves and the tamarind dressing. Chilli addicts may want to throw in some sliced chillis into the mix as well.)

I’ve had the house all to myself now for almost three weeks. The silence is deafening. And surprisingly calming. Despite initial misgivings about taking a holiday during this period of solitude, I’m finally enjoying waking up every morning to a completely open ended day. The lack of obligation to be somewhere, do stuff, is refreshing.

Cooking for a single person however, has made me a creature of habit. After purchasing a substantial amount of kale at the markets over the weekend, I’ve discovered that I really enjoy eating it every day. Simply sauteed with some young garlic, chilli and a few salty anchovies, served with brown rice or pearl barley, it has become the main meal I can’t seem to get tired of.

Dessert this week has regularly featured some form of ice-cream. For lovers of nutty, aromatic brown butter, this flavour is never better celebrated than in the form of ice cream. Use the leftover egg whites to make little brown butter friands like the blue corn cakes below.

Cashew brown butter ice-cream :
(based on a recipe from Dam Good Sweet by David Guas & Raquel Pelzel)

120g (1 stick plus 1 tablespoon) unsalted butter
1 cup roughly chopped cashews, toasted
360g (1 1/2 cups) milk
360g (1 1/2 cups) cream
100g (1/2 cup) brown sugar
8 large egg yolks
pinch of salt
splash of brandy (optional)

Brown the butter in a pan, then pour it into a bowl and let it cool. Don’t worry if a few specks remain in the browned butter. It will be strained off later.

Bring the milk, cream, and sugar to a boil in a large pot over medium heat. Turn off the heat and set the pot aside. Start whisking the egg yolks in an electric mixer on high speed. Slowly pour in the browned butter, then turn the mixer down to low and gradually incorporate the hot milk mixture. Strain, stir in the salt and brandy and chill the mixture, preferably overnight.

Churn the mixture in an ice-cream machine according to your ice-cream maker’s instructions. Just before the cycle is complete, add the chopped cashews and allow it to be mixed well into the ice cream.

Sunday. Second breakfast o’clock.

Those couple of hours after you’ve had the regulation two pieces of toast or that austere bowl of bran flakes. The moment when someone in the room finally says, Right, I’ll make the tea, shall I? Then it’s off to the kitchen, pulling out the mixing bowls, trying not to get batter on your pajamas while making something suitably Sunday.

Some people think it’s the wrong move, having muffins for second breakfast. I’ll agree, because usually I’m too busy eating sticky buns or some very large cookie that I’ve convinced myself is breakfast food worthy because it has oats in it.

But the derision poured on muffins being false cakes in paper jackets is unwarranted if you’ve ever had a really good muffin. These are one of my favourites. They’re tender, not too sweet and capable of feeding a crowd, or a pair of pajama clad couch potatoes with enough leftover for afternoon tea. Easy pleasey.

Strawberry buttermilk muffins :
(makes 10; recipe by Lorraine Godsmark)

380g plain flour
150g caster sugar
pinch of salt
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon bicarbonate of soda
2 eggs, lightly beaten
300ml buttermilk
1/4 teaspoon vanilla extract
150g melted butter
1 punnet (250g) chopped strawberries
Demerara sugar for sprinkling (optional)

Preheat oven to 200’C. Combine flour, sugar, salt, baking powder and bicarbonate of soda in a large bowl. Combine eggs, buttermilk, vanilla and butter in a separate bowl. Add egg mixture to flour all at once. Add strawberries and fold gently, leaving a few lumps. Do not overwork mixture. Spoon mixture into 10 muffin tins and sprinkle with sugar. Bake for 25-28 minutes or until cooked and golden.