Duck salad with plum and ginger dressing

Recently at work, we've been learning how to take a Fail Bow. When something goes wrong (horribly or otherwise) you should stand up, admit it isn't working and high five yourself for having a bash in the first place. The theory is people won't hide their mistakes and learn from them quickly. I have, as you'd expect, taken more than one Fail Bow in my short time in my current role.

My first recollection of a kitchen Fail Bow was cooking at home with my little brother (do you have a younger sibling who is way taller than you now you're both adults, but insist on still calling them your "little brother"? Me too!) We decided we wanted to make cheese and bacon balls. Dough kneaded, bacon fried and oil heated. Oil heated way too hot. Oil heated in a pan far too small. Dough hits oil. Kitchen fire erupts. Thankfully the only fatalities were Mum's old tea towels and, of course, five cheese and bacon balls (may they rest in peace).

Brioche with pate and plum paste

The reign of the brioche is coming to an end. I thought we'd finish with a big ol' fatty bang. And their ain't nothin' in this world as banging as pate. Pate makes me tingle all over, and it's not because the livers are past their used by date.

Let me be clear: this is teaming one butter-rich ingredient with another butter-rich ingredient. It's butter squared, and that's the way I like it. To cut through the crazy-richness, we go on a sweet ride with plum paste.

Plum paste goes with pretty much all the great things in life: cheese, pate, steak, rillettes. You know, the good stuff. It's sweet and sticky and helps to bring down the fat-factor of the brioche and pate. You can test how the paste is going by popping a teaspoon or so in the fridge to see if it sets. But I personally think that's a fast track to Burn Town, because by the time you've popped it in and pulled it out again, the mixture bubbling away on the stove could be turning to toffee. Get a thermometer. You'll use it all the time, trust me.