The Little Rose That Actually Couldn’t

 photo WP_20170616_001_e_zpswhx3rdg6.jpgThese come in yellow? I mean, these come in yellow.

 photo WP_20170617_005_e_zpslr12dzgb.jpgI’d love a giant ranunculus.

Imagine how empty the site would be without garden posts, dear reader, imagine how empty your lives would be without me! No, come back, I’m kidding. I’ve been forewarned about an incoming heat wave and have fore-watered the plants. I’ll be out daily, dilly-dallying and carting watering-cans to and fro. The plants will be well hydrated, whereas I will be a dried-out husk. The midday sun is a killer. I do have a story to share today. Let’s be a little whimsical and post it as a carefree, childish tale entitled:

 photo WP_20170617_010_e_zpsjgoiukf3.jpgWaltztime necro-rose, the shocking truth revealed.

 photo WP_20170617_011_e_zpsnbjcswcg.jpgHmmm? Oh, that’s tabloid style. Okay: The Little Rose and the Big Mistake.

Once there was a garden, within the garden was a bucket, a very special bucket as this bucket had no bottom, within the bucket was a rose, a sickly rose that couldn’t seem to bloom although all the others around it had already started. A kindly gardener took pity on the rose and replanted it in a special place. Eventually he forgot it, but one day he noticed that a rose had begin to grow in the very spot he buried the little rose. But it was dead, he exclaimed, surely it was a miracle. The little rose had come back to life. But as this is reality it turns out it hadn’t. Life is cruel, children. The end.

Wait! Hold it! Now your pal Jack is no liar, there was indeed a rose there, but not the dead one, it was a large branch of an old rose that started to root, after a quick prune it’s been replanted and will hopefully flourish in its new pot. So, it may not be a dead rose reborn, but it’s still pretty cool that it managed to start.

 photo WP_20170617_001_e_zpsxueurw9y.jpgI’m dubbing this the wrinkly rose.

 photo WP_20170617_007_e_zpsrklka3mb.jpgI jammed a load of plants into a pot and they do better than the carefully care for ones.

 photo WP_20170617_008_e_zpstp8lo0ar.jpgThe first strawberry starting to ripen.

There’s always work to be done in the garden. Careful care at every stage is paying dividends though. I’ve been dead heading and the difference is shocking, I even have a second flowering of my anemone. The roses look much better with frequent dead heading. I’m also tossing the over-ripe yellow strawberries into a pot, smushing really, as they’ll only propagate by seed. I could divide the crown, but I’d like a few that I could share with select others, I’m generous, but not stupid. I’d like to think I have enough flowers, but more just keep popping up. I bought some very cheap bedding plants to fill planters given to me by a neighbour. Salvia Merleau Blue and Coreopsis Illico. Yeah, means nothing to me either, they’re blue, yellow and perennial. There’s a front garden competition I’ve entered, no hope of wining, too many much larger, professionally maintained gardens out there, but why not enter it? If I could enter the back it’d be interesting. That’s all from me,  dear reader, there’s a lot happening in the garden and it’s fun sharing it with others. I hope to make jam or jelly son, I’ll post it when I do. If it succeeds that is. Until later.

 photo WP_20170617_003_e_zpsmrk8jts4.jpgMy special St. Brigid Anemone look the same as these, they cost more. More fool me.

 photo WP_20170617_004_e_zpsy0s1iqap.jpgThe side one hasn’t bloomed yet. I haven’t much red, but I’d rather it were blue. I can dream, right?

 photo WP_20170617_012_e_zps3ww5rrxg.jpgThis rose was all camped up, it might be a rambling rose. It can ramble over the fence.

Sorghum Flour Crumble

 photo WP_20170615_027_e_zpsfwbkheqe.jpgAll my crumbles look the same and come in the same dish.

I’ll be honest with you, dear reader, I can’t even remember which crumble recipe is the original any more. They’re all pretty much the same, the only change is the flour and that works because of the ground almonds. It’s a pretty nice crumble, can’t grumble. I usually make crumble to either use up flour that leftover or to use fruit that’s been in the freezer for too long. I realise I’m not selling you on this, but if you want crumble, here it is, if not, meh. I’m making room in my freezer for my imagined bountiful harvest of fruit. The raspberry harvest is picking up and the yellow strawberries are dong decently. I’ll probably make a few jellies rather than jams, though I do want a yellow strawberry jam for novelty, because the raspberries are really seedy and they get stuck in my teeth. Besides, I can buy jam easily, but jelly is apparently too exotic. Worry not about waste, the compost will be enriched by the seedy pulp. I may also go harvesting wild blackberries. I’ll start saving small jars now and hopefully have enough. Well, that’s it for me, just a quick recipe. See you later.


100g Berries, or Other Fruit, of Choice
35g Sugar
35g Ground Almonds
35g Sorghum Flour
35g Butter, Cold and Chopped


1. Pre-heat oven to 180c (Fan).

2. Place the Berries in an oven proof dish. Set aside.

3. In a bowl mix together the Ground Almonds, Sorghum Flour, Butter and Sugar. Work together with fingers until it resembles breadcrumbs,

4. Sprinkle Crumb Mixture over the Berries and cook for 15-20 minutes until the top is golden brown.

These Joke Titles Will Be The Death of Me

 photo WP_20170615_017_e_zpsksh9khwe.jpgBegonia Semperflorens Dark

 photo WP_20170615_006_e_zpsamgobhet.jpgThe lilies are out.

 photo WP_20170615_018_e_zpsa9rxkj7m.jpgBlue potato flowers.

You think it’s easy, dear reader, I sit here for  hours thinking of clever titles, thankfully the posts are just slapped together trip…did I type this out. Er. Ignore that, hah, you know me dear reader, I’d never do that to you. No, no, I spend countless hours crafting these posts. That’s why they all have a firm purpose, instructing moral messages scattered without and an endless supply of witticisms…look, flowers!

 photo WP_20170615_001_e_zpsilbvq2oy.jpgMy clematis is flowering. Not bad for a first year plant grown from a root

 photo WP_20170615_007_e_zps9lvnce9o.jpgThe painted sage should be blooming soon.

 photo WP_20170615_020_e_zpsbwh3frcb.jpgI wet the leaves of my gardener’s delight by mistake, but it came back strong. Don’t do that, I guess.

You know the hardest part of anything that involves a lot of unseen work is when anyone, say you, dear reader, asks if there’s any aspect of it that they would be wise to emulate or would derive pleasure from. There are two people on both sides, the earnest and the blow-hards. The latter in both cases want to impress and do as little as possible. We’ll focus on the earnest, the earnest teacher and student. If you ask me what you should grow it’s simple to throw out an answer, grow lettuce it’s fast, herbs are easy, but there is a problem that with experience comes forgetfulness. The more I learn the less I need to call upon that knowledge specially, it’s at my fingertips so to speak. I know by looking at my squash how they’re doing, but compare that to my first terrifying year. Which, if you’ll recall, I was told that growing squash was easy and anyone could do it without any troubles. By an experienced gardener no doubt. I’m slowly becoming that person, dear reader, but I’m still in earnest, I’ll always think of the information I’m imparting, how much of it was practically learned and how long you’ll need to really understand it. Again, the blow-hards want a quick run-through, as if all these years of growing and learning, countless more to go, can be condensed and given to them to elevate them to the same level. Not how it ever works. If there’s ever a question you want answered, dear reader, ask away, but as far as teaching goes, well, I’m still a student of the soil. If you want to join me feel free, I’ll try to pass on what I can.

 photo WP_20170614_001_e_zpsfmwpdsgm.jpgFirst harvest of sugarsnaps “bon”.

 photo WP_20170615_003_e_zpsjolgmigr.jpgPascali, the smell is extraordinary.

 photo WP_20170613_001_e_zpswwqtgmqy.jpgPart of a cage for the broccoli. I ran out of mesh, but had the old stuff. They’ll never escape now.

Now, I’m sure you asking yourself: But why? Why can’t you simplify this? That’s a fair question. The reason is simple. Everything is connected. Say you want to grow roses, you have to consider the position, soil, insects, weeds, pruning, general care, feeding and more besides. The next part that adds to the complexity is when you consider how plants affect each other. In a positive way: Bees are drawn to flowers, which helps pollination in your squash. But what about plants that negatively affect one another? If you have a plant infested by aphids, again you may not properly treat them and when your lettuce appears they attack it? If you have to many dark places you may have lurking slugs and some plants may draw them out, if those plants are near your brassica then you’re in trouble. It’s not that you’re constantly watching for every little failure, but there are a lot of considerations and the more you know the harder it becomes to ignore those issues when recommending to others. It’s aggravating when they just don’t want to acknowledge that these can be problems. “I want to grow my tomatoes outside in the cold! Why can’t I?” I go by the one answer rule here, I tell you the facts once after that go ahead, I’m not helping if you’re not listening.

 photo WP_20170615_016_e_zpsns4qscx7.jpgI almost snorted a bee when smelling these.

 photo WP_20170615_014_e_zpsk4qakymg.jpgRemember the sun? Me either.

 photo WP_20170615_013_e_zpsl7uhgbfu.jpgOxalis Deppei’s foliage is where it’s at the flowers are pretty pitiful.

One of the really great parts of gardening is that there are amazing teachers, if you’re lucky enough to meet an experienced gardener they will teach you so much. There is almost a universal topic that seems to be passed on to every neophyte gardener: You will fail. No, no! Not like that. It’s just that no matter the care and preparation, no matter what your experience level with, there will be times when luck, or nature, just isn’t on your side. You might be growing the worlds best potatoes and suddenly blight affects them. You may find your plants torn by gale force winds. There are just so many ways that things can go wrong. What’s surprising is how much effort this takes to accept. Imagine spending six months building a card castle, carefully placing each, getting so close when suddenly it all tumbles down and there is no one to blame. It was a freak occurrence. That’s gardening. If you fail to accept failure, heh, then you won’t last. You’ll hurt, trust me it really tightens your heart when it happens, but you’ll carry on. I think it’s the reason I try so much, if something fails you’ll have another to focus on. I suppose where the metaphor fails is that you will have to wait, you can’t just gather up your cards and begin again, you’re beholden to nature, to season, to something greater than you. It’s a strange feeling, a hurt mingled with resignation, with a forgiveness only you can give yourself and hope, hope that it will not happen again, hope for a success to be proud of. I can’t explain it exactly, but if ever you do start gardening on a large scale and meet another experienced gardener I bet you’ll have a similar conversation.

 photo WP_20170615_012_e_zps4kzkb0uc.jpgI forgot we had lilies other than the orange ones.

 photo WP_20170615_015_e_zpsnjfu4ggq.jpgHoneysuckle and jasmine, with dahlias behind. (Uneaten thanks to my slug prevention)

 photo WP_20170615_021_e_zpsj7ah1qif.jpgI think Heinz cancelled their competition. No personally bottled ketchup for Jack. I did a prize though.

I know sometimes I come across as a killjoy and I really don’t mean to the thing is you can’t teach joy. I was taking to a friend, who has thought me so much about gardening, and she said something really apt: I’m the Maintainer. In other words there are those that go into the garden to just enjoy the sites and smells, whereas I’m constantly looking at what needs to be done. Not to say I’m not having fun, but there is a responsibility mingled with it. I suppose it ‘s the reason I enjoy sharing like this with all of my dear readers, your interest is untainted by thoughts of work to be done. Still I have my moments. Yesterday I found my artichokes had dried out, I  hadn’t been out as the weather was awful, but pots need extra attention in regards water, I dumped two watercan’s worth into the drooping mess. Not ten minutes later I was out again and there they were in perfect condition, I had to laugh aloud. The care they’d be given made them resilient. I really wish I had a before and after photo to share with you. It’s incredible to see what these plants can return from.

 photo WP_20170615_023_e_zpsr20aeisf.jpgAncient technique for growing baby strawberry plants. Old kid’s cup, hair pin and a removable pot.

 photo WP_20170615_019_e_zpsvwqjs2dm.jpgThe Roma are doing splendid. I hope I’ll see tomatoes this year.

 photo WP_20170615_022_e_zpsjfj18ldh.jpgEven the wrecked bell peppers came back strong. I think the greenhouse is a huge step up. I think the tones help to.

 photo WP_20170615_024_e_zpsdxiwfv4c.jpgWild blackberries they’re growing over my wall.

 photo WP_20170615_026_e_zpsvusek92m.jpgBlueberry flowers are like tiny lampshades. Did you know you can get pink blueberries now?

That’s it for today, dear reader I’m enjoying the garden this year, but I’m still making plans for next year. I’d like to have some vegetables that will always be planted, maybe altering the types as I go, but I’d also like to devote some space to new plants. Odd ones especially, but always useful ones, or if all else I’ll find a use for them. Did you know you can grow tigernuts? Me neither, but yes, you can also grow white blackberries. The possibilities are endless, but sadly my garden isn’t. Until later, dear reader.

Breads Here Revisited Part One: Buckwheat Breads

It’s been a while since we talked bread, dear reader. No, this isn’t a shake down. I’m talking about the ever humble loaf, more specifically the bread recipes that have endured with me, never becoming tiresome, Unlike me? How dare you! No matter how you slice it, talking dough can be dull, I’ll try to liven up this series, yes, a series, with a little wit scattered here and there. I was considering a post collecting this all together, but I think this way will be best, I don’t have any new photos to share, and as I’m just me I won’t be baking each bread again solely for portraits , my freezer is well stocked already, the original recipe pages have plenty of photos. What I hope to accomplish here is a recap of all these breads have provided, all the ways they’ve  enriched my diet, all the ways they celebrate the ingredients, the diversity of simple recipes, their numerous preparations. What I’ll do is choose an individual recipe and work through that as that seems to be the best way, these posts aren’t going to feature every single bread, there are much too many for that, instead they’ll focus on the breads that I have continued to eat and never tired of.

First up: Buckweat Flour Bread!

Ah, the basic buckwheat loaf is the cornerstone of my understanding of free-from breads. It has created so many recipes thanks to its versatility and simplicity. Raw buckwheat flour has to be the greatest of all the single-use free-from flours, to me at least. I’ve always made my breads without gums or added starches and I feel that this bread, even at its most basic, shows why that should be something everyone tries. I do have a preference for either extra eggs or the flaxseed option as these eliminate the extreme dryness that the original loaf suffers from. This isn’t a complex bread, but in truth I’ve eaten a few commercial free-from loaves that haven’t touched it. You’re tasting buckwheat here, no fake textures, simple wholesome ingredients with no fuss. I do have a preference for firmer free-from breads, I’m not a fan of the mushier textured breads so this has been continuously stocked in my freezer.

The science behind why this works is vague, I use it, but I don’t always understand the  reason why, but really it’s just that buckwheat and its strength, from starch content I imagine, means a loaf can be firm and won’t crumble even when cut fresh out of the oven. The trick is to get enough liquid in, the batter has to have a sort of runny thickness. I does take practice to get it just right every time, that’s true of anything really. No matter how much I know I can’t condense it down so that you can grasp it on your first try. Thankfully it is a very forgiving recipe. The slow baking is key here. If the bread rises too fast it can deform and the exterior can become too dry before the centre is cooked. Luckily it bakes fast through. If you’re unsure, even with a skewer test, then press the top down, if it yields too much, again you’ll know what too much is in time, then back into the oven it goes. You’re best to freeze it on the day of baking as it will get stale after a day or two. That’s true of a lot of fresh baked goods really. I just slice it when fully cool, make sure it is fully cool as it’ll get soggy when defrosting, pop it into bags and freeze. Defrosting it as needed. It slices thin and thick so you can have it the way you prefer.

I’ve found this works best when thought of as as a strong-flavoured bread, I’m so used to the taste of buckwheat it doesn’t register on my taste-buds any more. I’ve had people say it’s like brown flour if that helps. It doesn’t toast very well, it just becomes dry and crumbly. It can be made as a large loaf or a smaller set, I like to make them smaller as the crust, however slight, and interior are in a better ratio. It’s a bread that can have so much added to it, I’ve made entire recipes, with multiple variations, based on that fact alone. If you need a loaf that cover numerous allergies and intolerances then this is that loaf. I’m not breaking out the hyperbole and telling you it’ll taste just like the bread you remember, I’m a long time away from those days, this is a buckwheat loaf, unique in its own right, but you might have to acclimatise yourself to it. That’s entirely on you, if you’d rather made your breads with gums and starches then go to it. This loaf has kept me balanced health-wise and taught me that you have to compromise, to give up what you knew and replace it with better options, which in time you will learn to love. Eat it with butter and jam, spread with healthy nut butters, top with cheese, meat, whatever and you’ll find this humble loaf is an enduring help to free-from eaters everywhere. I’m so glad I made this recipe and stuck with it. I hope you’ll give it a look too, dear reader.

This is just one of my main breads, I hope that in sharing this and others I’ll show newcomers, and oldies alike, just how many options are being presented to you here on Pep’s Free From Kitchen, that even with numerous problem food sets you can still eat well, eat better than you’d ever get in the store and, most importantly, eat enjoyable food that won’t break diets or your heart. That’s it for part one, I’ll see you next week for the next instalment. Regular posts will be incoming too. If you have any questions about this or other breads then ask below I’ll try to help as best I can.


 photo WP_20170608_024_e_zpsbbfwhx2b.jpgThe Dutch Iris are nearly open. I think, I’m not sure what they look like. No, I will not Google it!

Would you say you’ve missed me? It’s only been seconds, but, dear reader, even a second without Jack is…hey! Come back! I think that someday I will write the book that has been suggested to me. There you’ll be, book clenched in sweaty hands, I still love you slippery, clenching every available muscle with excited tension, you’ll open the book, named simply: “Jack”, and past the dedication, to all my Dear Readers naturally, you see the first sentence: The great thing about bottomless buckets is. After that it’ll be a blur and you might need to get yourself assessed. Throwing books in a fury isn’t acceptable behaviour, dear reader. Especially when they aimed at me! I’m kidding of course, but I do like to talk buckets more than I should, but they’ve been a success and are an integral part of my garden. You know if I bought a planter the same size I’d pay much more. I only pay two Euro for the black buckets, the show buckets as it were, the others are free. I even use the handles to pin matting. Not much to report, really, I just felt like chatting at a captive audience.

 photo WP_20170608_023_e_zpswpw9iga9.jpgI couldn’t get a good photo of the purple heart ranunculus. It’s beautiful, but so small! A rose in miniature.

I think that with any hobby you love, no matter the effort involved, and let me tell you that there is a great deal of work in all this, is worthwhile. I’ll never grow enough to be self sufficient in any way. I don’t have the space or skill for that, but I think there’ll be a harvest time every year that’ll mean I eat well from the fruits of my labour. The more I grow the less I want to waste. I’m thinking of freezing blanched beetroot leaves for smoothies. Most waste goes to the compost so I don’t waste much.

 photo WP_20170608_018_e_zpsdrqk9scv.jpgThe black grass is showing signs of life.

I have started looking up the names, as best I can find them, of heretofore unknown flowers growing in my garden. You have to ask people, Google vague terms and sometimes just plain luck out. I’m taking notes in a simple style to suit me, that way when next year comes I’ll have bullet points to follow rather than huge articles.

 photo WP_20170608_026_e_zpsfuq4q8em.jpgI thought how strange it was that I’d never see these roots again. Unless I dig it up that is.

The roses moved from a half litre pot, to a five litre and now they’ve been placed in their final receptacle. You guessed it right: A bottomless bucket. They had started to out grow their pots and I thought it best to move them now. It takes a bit of work to prepare the bucket. I have to saw off the bottom, then cut a cross in the matting, checking the fit as I go, then I dig up and loosen the soil, screw the bucket down, re-add the soil, add my compost, plant feed, water, more fresh potting compost then the rose is pressed into place and covered with more soil. It’s worked well so far. It means I have enough soil for it to spread, but not so much that the weeds take over.

 photo WP_20170608_027_e_zpsqav2mvqh.jpgThe transplanted cutting wasn’t rooted enough for moving yet. It’s got plenty of space.

 photo WP_20170608_028_e_zps9latv02o.jpgA new rose was bought to mark the successes in the garden this year. Amber Queen.

I have room for a few more buckets and I think I’ll add my two other roses I grew from cuttings when they’re ready. I’m still extremely proud of growing these roses from cuttings. It’s luck mostly, but when you can look at it and see your efforts have paid off it feels like something more than fortuity. The rose garden will look lovely in the coming months when all the bareroot tea roses start to boom. They’ll be fragrant too so it’ll be interesting to walk through it.

 photo WP_20170608_006_e_zpsm4bovo81.jpgIt’s been warm, but over cast. The basil is doing better in the greenhouse.

I have started the practice of dead-heading my flowers, the process of removing spent booms to stop the plant setting seed and wasting energy. I’ve seen how well it work in parts where I removed easy to spot seed-heads. It can be time consuming and takes a careful hand. Though, on the right day it can be a relaxing activity. Like anything in the garden really, when you’re in a hurry to accomplish your tasks, harried and unhappy, you’ll derive no real joy. Then go out when you have time to spare and just potter to and fro and you’ll find that contentment is easy come by.

 photo WP_20170608_013_e_zpscbl5a3o9.jpgThe aquilegia in Naru’s Garden is out.

I hope I’ll see a plentiful harvest this year, dear reader, it’d mean more recipes for both you and I. Whether I’ll be revisiting old recipes or creating new ones it’ll be enjoyable. I hope you’ll enjoy the journey with me, dear reader, the garden has become a very special place to me., infuriating as it can be at times, and I enjoy these informal chats of ours. I do worry that I’ll have no work to do in-between the plants growing, but maybe by next year I’ll have won the lottery and bought the field behind my house. See you later.

 photo WP_20170608_017_e_zps8bhqjv0b.jpgPretty back and front.

Sorghum Flour Chia Cookies

 photo WP_20170608_001_e_zpskvbaoxts.jpgAdapted from my other recipe here.

The health benefits of chia are blah, blah, blah yakety smackity. Hmmm? You should expect references to 90’s cartoons over generic spiels about the health benefits of food. We use ingredients around here, right, dear reader? Yeah. That’s why we’re still using sorghum, because it apparently makes really delicious cookies. Egg free ones no less. I did make it a speedier adaptation from the original, creaming and carefully working every ingredient is fine when the flour is better for it, but with sorghum I use it like rice flour. Rough and ready in other words. These cookies certainly haven’t suffered from a sped up preparation. As for the chia, I had thought of just adding it for fun, but then I thought it might help bind the cookies a little, less than a chia egg, but maybe enough. Anyone willing to try it both ways, with and without, can report below.

 photo WP_20170608_002_e_zpsmp0y3w3n.jpgThe one tiny cookie curse is in full effect.

Now, I had to add the step of adding the extra flour and kneading it in as it helps you handle these cookies. I did attempt to roll them and it was as disastrous as usual, sorghum doesn’t make great dough. Just pinch off what you need from the ball, squish it down into a disk and you’ll be saved a lot of hassle. There isn’t really much work here. You do have to let them rest in the fridge or it’ll be too sticky to work with and, I’m guessing, too runny when you bake them.

 photo WP_20170608_003_e_zpswxiaeeb5.jpgFunnily the honey doesn’t burn here, but they do brown fast.

They have a nice crisp texture, there’s a satisfying crack when you snap them, adding the pop of the chia seeds means this is a crispy cookie. They are just a hair shy of dry. I did opt for a, messy admittedly, simple drizzle made with lemon and fresh raspberries from the garden. That stage is up to you, it’s just icing sugar, lemon juice and raspberry. I just wanted a little extra taste with what  I had at hand. I will eventually try my hand at royal icing, but this was a quick craving killer. I like these without the egg, I already posted a cookie with egg so these are fine. If you can tolerate chocolate I’d say they could make some tasty, healthy…ier, oreos. Or Hydro if you’d rather.

 photo WP_20170608_005_e_zpsywfykdlk.jpgMessy and quick. Honest in all things that’s me. No concealment here, dear reader.

So, I think I’ve got a pretty decent handle on sorghum now. It’s similar to rice flour in that it has no binding properties. Where it shines is in it’s taste. A sort of nutty sweetness, but I know that’s as useless as it is generic. I’d say it’s a milder, sweeter buckwheat flavour. I still have some sorghum flour left, but when the bag runs out, barring me getting more for free, I won’t bother buying any more. I prefer to buy flours that make healthy and sensible recipes, this has been better in desserts and I don’t want a flour solely for desserts. Okay, that’s that, I’ll see you later, dear reader.


120g Sorghum Flour
50g Butter, Softened
30g Honey
20g Light Brown Sugar
10g Chia Seeds
Dash of Vanilla Extract
Pinch of Salt

Makes 12 Cookies.


1. Mix the Butter, Honey, Vanilla Extract and Sugar until combined.

2. Stir in the Flour, Salt and Chia Seeds and until a slightly sticky firm dough has been formed. Roll dough into a ball and wrap with cling film then leave in the fridge for 30 minutes. Dough will be firm and mostly solid when removed from the fridge.

3. Line a baking tray with greaseproof paper and preheat the oven to 170c (Fan). Remove cling film and dust the dough with more Sorghum Flour. Knead the flour into the dough, dough shouldn’t be sticky and should be easily handled, then pinch off 1 Tbsp’s worth of dough, roll it into a ball and press it flat onto the prepared tray. Bake for 15 minutes until cookies are dark brown and fairly firm to the touch. Remove from oven and let cool for 5 minutes then transfer to a wire-rack to cool completely.