Cherry on top

Written for my Great-Auntie Anne, with love.

I’ve loved baking for as long as I can remember. I come from a family of bakers, and I started at a very young age, with my mum baking alongside me regularly. By the age of eight, I had mastered raspberry buns, and from there, a lifelong passion for baking took hold. I have fond memories of driving up to my grandparents’ house in the Lake District, wondering and hoping whether my grandma would have one of her special home-baked chocolate cakes tucked inside a Quality Street tin. As soon as we arrived, I would ask her, and I can still picture her lifting off the lid, revealing that delicious Cadbury chocolate-covered treat swirled with a fork.

Some of my fondest memories of baking aren’t from the kitchen - they were in long phone calls with my Godmother Aunt - Anne. We’d spend hours on the landline discussing everything: oven temperatures, how long to soak the tea loaf, whether to add maraschino cherries to the fruitcake, and, of course, when to start making the Christmas cake from the Be-Ro Home Recipes book. No detail was too small. She had a way of making even the simplest recipes feel decadent, always insisting that the old methods, the ones passed down for generations, were the best. And although Auntie Anne never baked in front of me, we shared the experience through conversation. I could almost smell the cakes as we talked, watch them rise in the oven, and anticipate that tiny moment when a skewer comes out clean. It feels nostalgic now, remembering those phone calls and conversations.

Reading with a child has the same kind of wonder as baking: the transformation happens slowly, and the reward is in appreciating each stage. The other day in a lesson, I watched a parent supporting their child with reading. Their focus was on getting through the words quickly, moving from page to page, rather than pausing to enjoy the illustrations. It made me think - would we ever rush through a cake recipe without checking out the picture first? Would we skip a step or ignore the instructions, hoping it turns out alright anyway? Of course not. After all, the first thing we do when choosing a recipe is glance at the pictures - those images tell us what’s possible, what’s worth the effort, and whether we’ll even make it at all. That’s why illustrations are just as important in reading books as they are in recipe books - they help children understand, predict, and engage with what they’re about to read. Words are the sponge, punctuation the icing, and illustrations - the cherry on top!

Just as a cake needs time to rise and ingredients to be carefully combined, a child needs time to delight in their reading, notice the illustrations, and let their imagination fill in the gaps. That’s when learning becomes delicious. Skipping that step may get them to the 'end' faster, but it robs them of the experience.

So next time your child sits down with a book, think of it like opening a recipe. Look at the illustrations, read slowly, and savour the story. The sweetest success comes from seeing the whole picture. The patience and care we put in, whether for a cake or for a child learning to read, is the secret ingredient that makes all the difference.