Andre Burgener has been immersed in all things food since she took over the making of the family's lunch box sandwiches aged eight (her mom could make a mean creme brulee and a staggering souffle, but could never butter the bread all the way to the edges.

MEALIE-BREAD UNWRAPPED

THE great poet C Louis Leipoldt reckoned that 'even made from mealies that are past their best, [mealie-bread] is a work of art'.

Too true, but sadly we seldom make it. While "green" mealies still abound, please try it. For best effect, eat the bread with a very liquid meat stew or tamatie-smoor.

For one loaf: three cups very fresh mealie kernels, cut from raw mealies (do not attempt with yellow sweetcorn) / two free-range eggs / four tsp flour / two tsp baking powder / three tsp butter / one tsp sugar/ ½ tsp salt.

HOW: Cut kernels off the cobs. Mince kernels in a processor until fine, but not totally smooth. Mix together with remaining ingredients. Tip dough into a well-greased, heat-proof bowl, small enough to fit into a large pasta or soup pot, with enough space left in the bowl to allow for about 2.5cmof rising.

Cover with wax or baking paper, tied tightly with string. Place in pot and pour hot water into pot until halfway up sides of bowl. Put lid on and steam gently for two hours (top up water if necessary).

I put two chopsticks between the pot and the bowl to prevent a rattle. When cooked, turn out the bread.

LIBATIONS: CAMPARI FLOAT

MY MULTI-TALENTED kitchen compatriot and friend, Louis, invented this brilliant, cheeky drink after a long haul in our restaurant kitchen last weekend.

In a milkshake-type glass, pour one tot Campari, soda to ½ way up (lemonade for a less dry potion), and a huge blob of vanilla icecream on top. Drink immediately, as everything bubbles up over the rim.

The froth of innocent pink, countered by the grown-up bitterness and tang, make for a brilliant lunch or supper party drink and pudding in one.

MUFFINS

WHAT'S this ongoing muffin nonsense about? When did we all lose our common sense?

Muffins were something in their own right in the 1980s - branny, raisiny things baked by mom. They were dull, but at least they were, well, muffins.

Now, what are these things going by the same name?

Light-as-air blueberry, malty cinnamon carrot, poppy seed lemon and chocolate. Muffins?

It's cake, people. Just call it cake. All that's different is the shape.

Face it, you're having blueberry cake for breakfast. Nothing wrong with that. What's wrong is kidding yourself by giving the thing a healthier name.