Vines on volcanic soil are hard to grow and their grapes are hard-won, but it all combines to produce wines with a very particular sense of place

Good stories need jeopardy. Take The Princess Bride, one of my favourite films, which I recently introduced to my mildly terrified children. It’s a cult love story of high peril: Westley, believed dead, sets out to win back Buttercup (forced into marriage with another) on a quest involving pirates, duels, torture, a miracle and a battle of wits over a goblet of poisoned wine. There is struggle, magic and, ultimately, emotional reward. You’ll need to stay with me here: volcanic vines, too, tend to have a rocky journey, albeit with happy results for the drinker.

My ears perk up at the term “volcanic wine”, despite being less a style than a geological category. Volcanic soils take many forms – ash, basalt, obsidian, pumice, tuff – and interact with climate, altitude, water availability, grape variety and farming to produce wines with a very particular sense of place. Often, they have little in common with each other; a deep, rich nerello mascalese from Mount Etna’s north side bears little comparison to a light, leathery listán negro from Tenerife, say. And yet I’m sure there is something – perhaps it’s more a feeling than a taste – that I get from wines from volcanic terroirs. “It’s a hard thing to get across,” agrees importer Nic Rizzi of Modal Wines, “but they do have an extra tension.”

Catherine’s Originals denies Mondelēz claims in London high court of ‘passing off’ and trademark infringement

The owner of Toblerone is taking legal action against a tiny British vegan chocolate brand which it claims has been copying the Swiss chocolate bar’s famous chunky shape.

Mondelēz has filed papers at the high court in London accusing Catherine’s Original’s of “passing off” and trademark infringement with its O’bar – a length of chocolate divided into segments each with a rounded semi-oval hump.

A historical adventure deep in the very heart of pasta country in southern Italy unexpectedly unearths a sauce with roots in Senegal

About 30 kilometres south of Naples, the town of Gragnano is surrounded by the Monti Lattari mountain range – the limestone backbone of the Sorrento peninsula. Historically, a series of natural springs fed into a larger stream called Vernotico, which flowed down the mountainside, passing through what was at the time the small village of Gragnano.

The natural slope of the terrain was fortuitous, because it allowed for the construction of a sequence of mills, which started in around 1263. During a visit to Gragnano last month, local historian Giuseppe Di Massa explained how it all worked; how gravity drove the flow of water from one mill to the next, in order to power vertical millstones – a system created for the inconsistent flow. The valley, with its clever water system, became known as the valley of the mills; its role milling grain, which arrived at the nearby port of Castellammare di Stabia, a vital operation to Naples and surrounding towns.

A fool is absurdly simple – just fruit stirred through custard or yoghurt with. maybe a bit of cream – and you can then add whatever bits and bobs you fancy from the fridge

Fool is one of my go-to desserts for two reasons: first, its pure simplicity – it’s little more than custard or yoghurt mixed with whipped cream and pureed fruit – and, second, its adaptability to the seasons. Gooseberry, rhubarb and strawberry are traditionally the most foolish fruits, but just about any fruit goes. British blackberries are still available and apples are in their prime right now, so I’ve gone for those, but use whatever you’ve got in store.

I usually make fool with yoghurt, not least because it’s much less work than making custard from scratch, but I’ve got lots of leftover custard from this week’s Food Filter taste test, so I’m going for a custard base here. I’m always looking for ways to use up small amounts of bits and pieces in the fridge, such as the end of a pot of custard or yoghurt, then add a few other ingredients to elevate remnants into regalia.

Aubergines cooked with coconut, chilli, tamarind and curry leaves, and a gingery vegetable stew with coconut and green chillies

Both these hearty curries use coconut as part of their base gravy. The region of Kutch in Gujarat is brimming with vegetable curries, and the bhagare baingan features many classic Kutchi ingredients; it has several similarities to the Hyderabadi version, too. I’ve used baby aubergines, but if need be you can use regular diced aubergines instead. Avial, meanwhile, is often served at celebrations in south India, and this version is a Keralan recipe made with a flavourful coconut paste.

The Australian cookbook author shares her simple but effective techniques to improve your midweek pasta – and why you should be generous with olive oil and salt

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Pasta is a well-loved staple in the kitchen. It’s something that many of us fall back on when we don’t know what to cook or don’t feel like anything too fussy. But if your pasta sauce is a little too watery, or lacks that oomph of restaurant dishes, there are a few simple tricks and techniques that can take your simple midweek dinner to new and delicious heights.

Quick, simple finger food that children will love for Halloween: pumpkin and carrot fritters with a chilli-coriander relish, and pumpkin baked into a dark chocolate slice

It would be lazy to write, with a rueful shake of the head, that Halloween gets bigger every year. Halloween is huge. I have seen it grow, vicariously, through my children year on year and, despite previously approaching it with a Scrooge-like attitude, something in me has shifted. Perhaps it’s simply the pleasure I see light up in all toddlers through to teens; they can’t get enough of the fandango of dressing up, mixed with its unmistakable, irresistible sprinkle of wickedness. So now I am in. Last year, we had 60 14-year-olds dancing the night away, and I wish I’d made them the recipes here, both of which play on the deliciously sweet, wonderfully savoury nature of pumpkin, that most brilliant of Mexican fruit. Quick, utterly delicious and the perfect finger food. Happy Halloween!

Batch-cook a load of rice, cool it, then whip up this comforting shellfish fried rice

This gently seasoned rice has become such a comfort blanket that I now make it at least once a week at home. That’s quite surprising, really, given that I’m guilty of drowning most of my food in chilli crisp oil, but this rice is so delicate yet flavourful that it’s just the gentle hug I need. The key is to cook the aromatics slowly and quietly in the oil, to soften and infuse, but not colour too quickly. Cook the jasmine rice in advance, if you like – it fries better once it has been cooked and cooled. Alternatively, packs of pre-cooked microwave rice work brilliantly.

The Guardian aims to publish recipes for sustainable seafood. Check ratings in your region: UK; Australia; US

An age-old Russian favourite, rich and full of flavour, in nine easy steps

Stroganoff is a richly savoury dish of sautéed beef in soured cream named after a 19th-century count (though no one seems quite sure exactly which one). But it was only as recently as the 20th century that this age-old Russian favourite was gussied up with onions and mushrooms. Here, it has evolved again to eschew the meat altogether – and you may be surprised how little you miss it.

Prep 15 min
Cook 40 min
Serves 4

You cannot fake fabulous by simply buying in cool crockery and a freezer full of someone else’s pastry

In my misspent youth, I’d head to Glasgow to watch the likes of Fields of the Nephilim and Hawkwind at the Barrowland Ballroom, drink snakebite and buy posters from the touts on Gallowgate to Blu-Tack to my bedroom wall and tear holes in my mother’s woodchip wallpaper. Today, however, I’m here to visit Outlier, a bakery/restaurant/art space that serves warm bread, sticky treats and porchetta with beetroot and plum caponata. It’s on London Road just minutes from the Barrowland, and I’ve wound up here thanks only to a complete stranger on Buchanan Street who wrote down its name on the back of an old receipt and pressed it into my hand. She implored me to try the green jasmine rice pudding, the fresh sourdough and the chocolate and hazelnut babka. We used to do this type of inter-human face-to-face contact thing a lot back in the 1980s, before the internet ruined life.

Outlier originally opened back in 2022, after Steven Turner, who had previously run various arts venues, applied to turn the building into a space for artists with a kitchen attached. What we have now is a fairly sparse but charming space, tiled a bit like an old swimming baths in places, in mustards and dark, glossy browns. There are pale, unvarnished wooden tables, speckled stoneware plates, green, pressed-glass tumblers and prices handwritten on scraps of coloured card. When it all comes together, this kind of carefully orchestrated can’t-be-arsedness is really quite magical, and from the outset I found Outlier intensely likable.

We perch in a window seat, perusing an actively dreamy brunch menu: blood peach panzanella with Isle of Wight tomatoes, Toulouse sausage with braised Umbrian lentils, or celery soup with Highland blue cheese. Even so, it is the cake counter that has proper main-character energy here. Just after opening at 11am, it is piled high with those babka buns, apple crumble and custard cakes, and bright, jubilant strawberry pastries. The bakers work behind that counter on long tables, and a queue snakes through the space and back out of the door. Outlier’s playlist is cheery and knowing – classic ska, Squeeze’s back catalogue – and it just can’t fail to keep things buoyant. Thirty-five years may have passed since I last hung out meaningfully in this postcode, but the place still feels vibrantly alive.

The base of this easy roast pumpkin soup is rich, nutty, Halloween heaven – you can go wild with the garnishes

A lot of my early life in professional kitchens was spent making vegetable purees, which I find rather tiresome, not least because they can often lapse into baby food: creamy, bland and flattened by a cosseting blanket of dairy. With a judicious and considered approach, however, they can also be incredibly vivid, explosive and concentrated expressions of the very essence of the vegetable in question. I love this seasonal (not to mention Halloween-appropriate) soup for its simplicity of approach – essentially, you just roast a beautiful pumpkin with caramelised butter – and the remarkable complexity of its result.

Jackson Boxer is chef/owner of Brunswick House, Vesper and Dove, all in London, and culinary director of Cowley Manor near Cheltenham and the Henrietta in London

A lively tequila sour shaken up with an injection of tamarind and star anise

Rich tamarind chutney gives this vibrant tequila sour a sweet-sour depth that pairs brilliantly with crisp apple juice.

Dhononjoy Roy Dip, mixologist, Kokum, London SE22

Tabbouleh, apple, beetroot, minty yoghurt, oyster mushrooms … a riot of colour and autumnal flavours with every forkful

Autumn is a time of year when our meze plate becomes more comforting and generous, with earthy beetroot, sweet squash and woody mushrooms. The cooking is simple, but the flavours and textures are layered and kept lively with sharp vinegars and citrus. Each one of today’s dishes is considered individually, but also in the context of the plate as a whole, and how each element relates to the others to achieve balance and harmony. And, of course, always serve with pitta or flatbread to scoop up every last morsel.

Served together, this meze selection should feed four generously.

Whip winter squash puree into a creamy filling and pipe direct into the heart of a cracking seasonal pudding

At this time of year, I aim to get as much pumpkin as I can into my meals, including desserts. If I’ve been organised, I’ll roast and puree some from scratch, but I seem always to have at least one tin of pumpkin puree to hand, which I can use quickly in anything from pumpkin pies to cookies and muffins. Here, it’s whipped into cream with some spices, then piped into crackly puffs of choux for a chic, autumnal dessert.

Increasingly full-bodied and flavourful, low-strength British pale ales are growing in popularity, especially on the dinner table

There is nothing like discovering something for yourself to engender a fierce sense of loyalty, and that’s exactly what happened a decade ago when I fell upon the Kernel Brewery’s Table Beer, a pale ale of roughly 3% ABV. This is a brew that never fails to meet me where I am as a working parent with multiple identities but one brain, who often craves a delicious little buzz without loss of function.

Kernel brewer Evin O’Riordain tells me that sales have steadily increased over the past decade, and that 2026 has seen a tipping point. “For the first time ever, Table Beer became the thing we made the most,” he says. This is entirely consistent with the population’s collective interest in no-lo drinks, although, when it comes to beer, zero-alcohol examples are much better represented than low-alcohol ones (in the major retailers, at least). There are only a handful of the latter available in supermarkets, including Small Beer’s 2.3% IPA, Jiddler’s Tipple’s 3.8% Everyday Pale Ale (both Ocado), and Beavertown Satellite (2.8%) and Dark Star’s Hophead (3.4%), both at Waitrose.

​Before you throw away that jar with only a bit left inside, turn it into a dressing, sauce, glaze or even a drink instead

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It has been almost three months now, and we still haven’t replaced the cupboards that fell off the kitchen wall. It is also disturbing how well we have adapted to the chaos and having half the room covered with plastic crates that once contained vegetables and that now contain the hundreds of items that used to fit in the three cupboards, the collective weight of said items explaining the incident. The lack of cupboards has put pressure on the fridge, too, which has become a depository. That’s why, when I finally looked inside it properly, I found three jars of honey, each with between 2mm and 2cm at the bottom, as well as two jars of peanut butter, and a pretty much scraped-out jar of chocolate spread. At least all of those jars provided inspiration for today’s newsletter.

Making a dressing with the last inch of honey is perhaps the most efficient and satisfying way to deal with a near-empty jar. Pour in a bit of boiling water and some lemon juice, orange juice or red-wine vinegar, screw on the lid, then shake aggressively so the honey dislodges and dissolves into a syrup. Now add everything else – olive oil, a bit of mustard and whatever else you fancy – and shake again to emulsify. This dressing is great with one of the most useful, speedy and cheap salads in existence, namely shredded red and white cabbage, grated carrot, possibly with grated apple. Alternatively, use the same dressing on a seasonal salad of radicchio, hazelnuts and gorgonzola. And if the remnants in a jar happen to be mustard, do exactly the same as above, just inverting the order and adding honey later.

This dish of chicken in a lipsmacking citrus and oregano sauce has been handed down through many generations of Roman restaurateurs

If you look through the window of Piatto Romano between 10am and midday, there will almost certainly be two, maybe three people at the round table trimming vegetables: chicory, artichokes, poppy greens, amaranth. After midday, the crates and trimmings will have been cleared away and the table will now be home to trays of bright-green boiled vegetables and, maybe, baked salt cod. By 12.30pm, everything will have been moved into the small kitchen in time for service, which starts at 12.45pm.

When I first moved to Rome in 2005, Via Bodoni 62 was home to a restaurant called Da Rafaelle, which had white plastic chairs (inside as well) and served traditional Roman food with plenty of offal. We went to Da Rafaelle a few times before it closed in 2009. But, mostly, we went to La Torricella, which is on the other side of Testaccio and serves mainly fish. The owner is Augusto D’Alfonsi and, during lunch one day, he mentioned that he was taking over via Bodoni 62, and that his daughter Francesca would run it. They’d serve traditional Roman food with plenty of offal and it would be called Piatto Romano. This was 2011. My son was born later that year and my memories are not unpleasantly foggy; of the vegetable trolley in the corner, of chicken with red peppers and of Francesca and her father negotiating strongly. I also remember Francesca’s brother, Andrea, starting to be around more, before he eventually took over in late 2013.

A tangy mushroom stew with potato pancakes for dipping, and a rustic but versatile cabbage and mushroom soup

A thick, creamy and tangy wild mushroom stew, inspired by Belarusian mačanka and traditionally served with thick buckwheat pancakes for dipping. My version, however, features another Slovak dish in the form of lokše, which are crepes or flatbreads made with mashed potato dough. The result is so good. Then, a simple, seasonal soup made with just a handful of ingredients that captures the heart and soul of eastern European soup making. While it doesn’t belong to any single location, I hope it will taste like “home” to readers connected to the region.

In 2014, 13% of the population of this Belgian city described themselves as flexitarian. This year, 83% did. Here is how everyone was convinced to eat their greens – and love them

Sixty bowls of slime-green soup sit waiting for the children to arrive. Pupils rush in from their morning lessons, grab the bowls by the handles and start slurping. No complaints, no refusals. (OK, maybe a few “bleurgh” faces.) Chicory soup dispatched, they get stuck into the main course: falafel, Mediterranean vegetable tagine and couscous. Some ask for seconds; most grab a piece of fruit for dessert and run out to play.

This is a typical Thursday lunchtime in BS De Stadspoort primary school in Ghent, Belgium. Similar meat-free menus are being eaten in other schools and nurseries across the city, plus community centres, care homes and assisted living facilities, not to mention many work canteens and restaurants. Thursday in Ghent is officially “Veggie Day”, with residents encouraged to eschew any meat or fish. So how did a city get its children – and everyone else – to eat their greens?

In Perth’s nightlife precinct in the 1990s, I made a lot of sandwiches – but the sandwiches also made me

• Read more in the a job that changed me series

Delivering pizzas, with all due respect, was a cruisy gig that fit in with my uni commitments. It was 1998, for Pizza Hut at Como, a well-established suburb 15 minutes from Perth’s city centre. I blasted hip-hop through my car stereo and brought home cash tips and – if I was rostered until close – any pizzas that were unclaimed or undelivered that night. Between deliveries, drivers sat in the alley behind the shop and shot the breeze while folding pizza boxes.

The job’s biggest downside was that it didn’t pay much, especially once you factored in the costs of fuel and vehicle maintenance. So I applied for a job as a “sandwich artist” at Subway in Northbridge, Perth’s nightlife district. I figured that switching to a job where I was on my feet instead of on the road would significantly extend the life expectancy of my hand-me-down Mitsubishi Magna.