OKAY, so you have a go at writing a food column for the Advertiser at the rump-end of January.

Good luck with that.

Even proper food writers struggle, let alone a part-timer like me. Open any newspaper and you’ll find diet stuff, detox piffle, predictions of food trends even (they’re never right). It’s hideously dull.

Everyone is broke, fat (still digesting December’s excesses), and off the grog until at least March. It’s rubbish for a chap like me who sells victuals for a living.

As usual in January there’s rumour-mongering and gossip to be had in town. Shop-goss in particular: Ann Summers, Nandos, Greggs and Wetherspoons, all coming this way soon apparently. As for the multi-story carpark in the Ludlow Castle’s outer bailey – well, I think it’s a tremendous idea.

Anyway, at least it’s not January any more, but next week it’s Shrove Tuesday when the feasting stops before it’s even restarted, and Lenten fasting begins.

My main problem is there’s not a great deal of grub about at the moment. A few sprouts perhaps, maybe a cabbage here or there, a Quality Street down the back of the sofa if you’re lucky, but everything’s waterlogged.

That said, we got some Jerusalem artichokes out of our allotment the other day. They would appear to be resistant to three solid months’ worth of rain. Nubbly, knobbly, ugly as sin and pain to peel. Their after-effects are well documented, but they make one of the finest soups known to humanity. Add cream, and pass them through a sieve - it’s worth the effort – for a truly velvety, if windy result.

There’s some broccoli around too. The proper sprouting stuff, not the ubiquitous and seemingly season-less calabrese. That doesn’t count. Dress streamed sprouting with chilli, anchovy and lemon. It’s a way of keeping things sprightly under these leaden skies.