Blurb: How could everything that seemed so right suddenly have gone so wrong for Mia? Snow is on the ground and Christmas lights twinkle in the German Christmas market. The warm, spiced wine is just right, but there's still one key ingredient missing from her romantic dream. Will Mia's Christmas turn out to be sugar and spice and all things nice - or a deflated soufflé of loneliness and regret? 

Christmas Cravings is a festive romance standalone episode from the Greedily Yours series.

First of all I would like to thank the publisher for sending me a copy of this book via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.*

Review: Christmas Cravings is a stand alone novella part of the Greedily Yours Series. So if you have read this foody series, you'll already know the characters of this story, but if you haven't, don't worry, you'll get to know them very quickly. Plus, there are some flashbacks that help you understand them better and what their story is.

With Christmas around the corner, Mia is no longer in speaking terms with his supposed boyfriend Tom and she is not really sure why. But with the help of her lovely friend, this is about to change. During the story we learn about all the problems and obstacles Mia and Tom had to get over to get until here and also how perfect they are for each other. 

Christmas Cravings is a short and cute love story, perfect to enjoy an evening during the holidays with a hot chocolate in hand. With lots of food references, a visit to a real German Christmas market, a lovely dog and some fun characters, I'm sure it will entertain you greatly. Plus, the author has included some of the recipes from the story, for you to try!

Rating: 

Hi Emma and welcome to Alba in Bookland. Now, let's start with an easy one. Tell us your best Christmas memory from your childhood 

Ooooh, there are so many to choose from. because I've always loved Christmas. But probably one that happened every year and so I remember it clearly is our Christmas ritual with my brothers and parents. We used to go and see Father Christmas every year at Selfridge's when we were kids. So we'd set off after school one evening in December and get the tube or the bus to the west end. Of course it would already be dark and so all the lights of the west end would be glittery and bright and exciting. There'd be chestnut braziers on the corners of Oxford St and Regent St and I loved that smell of roasting chestnuts and the men's calls in the frosty air. Sometimes we used to get bought a bag of chestnuts to share, sometimes we'd be in too much of a rush to push up from Oxford Circus towards Selfridge's and the Christmas mecca. It was crowded then too and there was always a bit of a crush but somehow, perhaps it's nostalgia, it didn't seem as crowded as it does now and the sparks from the braziers would be flying in the air as buses chuntered past with that low tug of a diesel engine. I remember the scratch of my wool duffel coat and my gloves and bobble hat which would itch my forehead, this being the seventies and before too many softer microfibres had crept into wool clothes. We'd stop to look in the big department store windows, marvelling at the lights and displays, the glitter and all the things on offer to buy. Then we'd get to Selfridges and carefully walk around all the windows so we could soak up the theme. They were always magical. Then we'd go up and up on the escalators, normally to one of the higher floors where the Christmas grotto was. As we got nearer, we'd see the trail of snow and glitter and toys and then we'd shuffle through the long queue to see Father Christmas. I was always a bit shy of that actual bit, although I loved believing in Father Christmas so I really thought it was him there in the grotto. This was also before every shop had a Father Christmas, so it really did seem magical to a small kid. After we'd seen him, we'd have a look around the toy department and dream about the things we might put on our list to him and then we'd head back to Regent St and Hamley's and then dinner at Garfunkels. Garfunkels was our family Christmas treat. We LOVED that restaurant and the salad buffet where you were allowed to pile as much as you could on one big plate. My Dad had a system where he would carefully construct a tower of food and then get us to choose which dressings we wanted. We loved Thousand Island and Blue Cheese at the time. It makes me laugh now as I always think that is seventies and early eighties food and it was before I knew pasta should be al dente and Pasta Al Fredo doesn't really exist in Italy, and definitely doesn't come smothered in cream and butter and cheese and mushrooms. But I LOVED pasta al fredo there with the earthenware dish sizzling still, or Cannoloni with loads of salad. I know, all my Italian friends would refuse to speak to me ever again, but that was considered the height of sophistication then and was literally a once a year treat. I think that all sticks out in my mind because the best bit about Christmas for me is the food and the build up to the big day. I always feel a bit sad when we actually arrive because then I know it's nearly over. 

What a fantastic memory! Next, what's your least favourite Christmas Carol?

My least favourite Christmas carols are the ones that I don't know. The complicated arrangements where there aren't comforting words, melody or images for me to feel good about Christmas. I went to a Christmas Carol concert in Germany a couple of years ago after the Christmas market. I was really looking forward to it because choirs are a big thing in Germany and we were in a beautiful old church and their voices were amazing. As a concert of music, it was beautiful, but I was sad because there wasn't one carol in there that I'd ever heard of and they were all so ancient that I didn't even really hear the Christmas connection at all. My favourites on the other hand are We Three Kings, The Holly and the Ivy, Silent Night and Good King Wenceslas. 

Christmas books are always beautiful, do you have a favourite Christmas cover?

I love the cover of Twas the night before Christmas, with the big jolly Father Christmas coming down the chimney on it, which I had as a child. I have several versions of that book, and I have another one with a moody dark sky, with a sleigh and reindeer arching across the front and twinkling stars. I also love The Box of Delights Christmas Cover. The version I had as a child had a lovely big sparkling Edwardian style Christmas tree on it and I used to read that book on Christmas Eve every year. If you are talking adult books, Trisha Ashley's Christmas books have become a bit of a tradition for me to buy in recent years and read over the Christmas period when you want something nice and gentle and hopeful and warm to wrap around you as you're travelling between houses, families, countries friends etc. to fit in everyone over the festive period. I love curling up on Christmas afternoon with a good book too before the games start in the evening. 

I love that too! What’s special about writing a festive story? 

I loved evoking all the magic of Christmas that I feel. The preparation that can start months before, for example with foraging in preparation for Christmas, or thinking what to buy someone. It was interesting trying to think what the characters would buy each other this year as opposed to the year after a year of being together and it was almost harder than actually having to go out and buy presents for someone myself. 

And finally... The worst part of Christmas is… 

Tough question. There isn't really a worst part of Christmas for me. But I think now I'm older it's splitting your time between all the people you love. Especially when families live so far apart and you can't gather everyone in one place. It's also accepting other people's Christmas traditions might not be like your own families and trying to enjoy yourself regardless, even if you are denied the usual things you expect at Christmas, like say Turkey and all the trimmings or a big family walk in the park, or a constant stream of good wine to lubricate the day. This year will be the first time in my life that I won't be with my parents at Christmas and I'm a bit sad about that but we're going to have a “second Christmas” a few days later to make up for it with my brothers and their families and my parents.

Christmas Cravings by Emma Hamilton is published on 20th November, price £0.99 in eBook.

How could everything that seemed so right suddenly have gone so wrong for Mia? Snow is on the ground and Christmas lights twinkle in the German Christmas market. The warm, spiced wine is just right, but there's still one key ingredient missing from her romantic dream. Will Mia's Christmas turn out to be sugar and spice and all things nice - or a deflated soufflé of loneliness and regret? 

-- Christmas Cravings is a festive romance standalone episode from the Greedily Yours series. 

-- About the series: Mia Maxwell loves food. She loves it so much that she's made it her career. She owns a food PR business that fills her days, and by night she's a food blogger with a burgeoning audience. With her 'Culinary Confessions of a Greedy Girl', Mia takes the reader on a delicious journey, searching for top dishes and the perfect man.

Get in on Amazon UK

Today I am delighted to welcome Emma Hamilton to the blog. Emma is the author of new serialised novel Greedily Yours. To celebrate the publication of the first episode of the series, she has stopped by to share with us her Kitchen Disasters! Emma, all yours: 

Cooking has always been a pleasure for me and generally it goes well. I mean, I’m not too gifted at the presentation side of things, or, in fact, at producing anything calling for a “light touch;” soufflés are definitely not my bag. But if you want a dish to pack a punch and fill you up, then I’m your woman! -Having said that though, I’ve been responsible for some notable disasters. I once got together with an Italian guy who also loved food. A match made in heaven you might think. He would sit long in to the night, expounding on the beauty of life after the third bottle of wine and he would plan elaborate meals with expensive ingredients; a rare cheese here, a “top” cut of meat there. I met him at a press conference and a few weeks later, after long email exchanges; he came down to see me in the town where I was working. As I was writing at my desk, he proceeded to wash up the dishes in my kitchen and then popped out for some “delicious ingredients” to cook me a meal. Wow, this could be love, I thought. Report finished, he turned up with fresh seafood, huge langoustines, mussels and a choice cut of meat; excess, or eccessivo, was his middle name. One time he brought home globe artichokes and we proceeded to attempt to stuff them and fry them, alla Romana. Another time we made stuffed Zucchini flowers with anchovies and mozzarella. 

The quest for the new and for recreating dishes I had previously only eaten in restaurants had begun. He liked the finer things in life and we both wanted to cook them. At first I was impressed, he was a gourmet and I was loving trying new things on my tiny studio flat two ringed cooker. The relationship progressed and I visited him in Milan. There I realised that food hygiene was not his strong point. His fridge was full of old and mouldy bits of cheese, rinds and his kitchen table contained not one but two wicker baskets of gradually mouldering breadcrumbs, because, as he explained, “he liked making everything from scratch”. The green tinge on the breadcrumbs didn’t seem to bother him at all. The kitchen sides where he would flamboyantly throw things around to create a dish were covered in crusted food and dirty pans. In short, he lived like a student. Despite this, the relationship continued and when I took over the cooking, and cleaning, of the kitchen; things seemed to be looking up. A few months later though, it all went pear-shaped and my culinary confidence took a nose dive too. It was very strange, suddenly, even things that I could have done with my eyes shut, like bake a Victoria sponge, would turn out wrong. 

 For my birthday that year, I baked a cake and held a picnic. That cake just wouldn’t rise or set in the middle, even after several hours in my tiny oven. In the end, I tried to foist a half liquid chocolate sponge on my Italian guests; they politely declined and snuck off to get slices of pizza. Needless to say, Signor Eccessivo didn’t turn up to the disaster birthday; we were on the first of a couple of breaks before we eventually split. Heartbreak has always turned me off my food and induced a temporary period of Spartan eating. Perhaps that’s why I turned to a delicious Afghan soup made with spinach, rice, lentils and yoghurt to comfort me during that period. The pounds dropped off as I moped around feeling sorry for myself. Then I read that if you added apple cider vinegar, you could lose even more weight. Soon I was supping my soup with a good shot of said vinegar. Hmmm, delicious I thought, and slimming. But when I foisted my meal on a friend who’d come to cheer me up, she took one spoon and declared herself “full.” Recently, as my husband was busy telling that friend, a Tuscan, who we were visiting, how great a cook I was and how his favourites of my repertoire were “Italian”, she eyed me dubiously, “do you still cook that vinegary soup?” she asked.

I coughed as my husband looked confused. “Erm, no, no I don’t,” I said, feeling my confidence draining all over again.

That night, she let me loose in her kitchen. To accompany the grilled Tuscan steaks, I offered to do slices of fennel and tomato covered in breadcrumbs, garlic, olive oil, salt and a squeeze of lemon, as a “contorno”. “OK” she happily agreed as she laid the table. How can I possibly mess this up? I thought, it’s only cooking an Italian inspired dish for Italians after all, but mess it up I did, as people looked surprised that a Brit had been allowed to cross the hallowed portals of an Italian kitchen. Everyone “Mmmmnhed” politely, but I ended up eating the copious leftovers for the rest of our visit. 

That’s why I gave Mia “temporary culinary incompetence”, because I really believe that when you are down or feeling worried, (a bit like in that book ‘Like Water for Chocolate’,) your feelings come out in your food. Luckily, as I finally realised, just like heartbreak, “temporary culinary incompetence” will pass. When you’re in love again, or just happy, your food will once again taste divine (at least to you) and everything in the kitchen will go right.

Greedily Yours

Episode 1 - Mia Maxwell knows that her love of food is tied to her healthy appetite for romance. She's admitted as much on her food blog, "Culinary Confessions of a Greedy Girl." But could a chance encounter with a fellow foodie in Cornwall really entice her to question her own romantic relationship?

Get the 1st episode on: Amazon | Amazon UK