Ameer Kotecha

When Idi Amin’s voice crackled through the radio on 4 August 1972 with his fateful ultimatum, my family paid little notice, save for wondering briefly why a government announcement had interrupted the blaring Bollywood tunes. My father’s two sisters were getting married the next day (both tying the knot at the same time meant half the wedding cost) and preparations were in full flow. In any case my family – like many of Uganda’s 76,000-odd Asians who were subject to Amin’s expulsion, giving them 90 days to leave the country – thought the President could hardly be serious. Despite being a small minority of the country’s population, the Asians were responsible for 90 per cent of Uganda’s tax revenues. To expel them would be madness. But madness came easily to Amin.

At its peak, Battersea Power Station supplied a fifth of London’s electricity, including to Buckingham Palace and parliament. Today, the most electric thing about it is the virtual reality gaming venue on site. Times have changed – but the reopening of the power station allows us to rediscover one of our finest pieces of industrial heritage and to take stock of the neighbourhood's £9 billion makeover. The iconic Grade II*-listed building was decommissioned and shut down in 1983. Over the past ten years, in Europe's largest urban regeneration project, it has been restored and repurposed. The project reaches its climax today when the power station reopens as a residential, retail and hospitality development.

Game is a perfect refutation to the sort of militant vegan campaigners who go around placing floral tributes on packaged meat. So long as shoots are responsibly conducted, game is as environmentally sustainable and ethical as meat-eating gets. But this year looks set to be a tough one for parts of the industry. Chiefly because of a severe outbreak of avian flu in France, gamekeepers in the UK have struggled to source enough birds to rear (90 per cent of partridge eggs and 40 per cent of pheasant eggs are imported from or through France). By some estimates up to 70 per cent of partridge shoots and nearly a third of planned pheasant shoots may be cancelled this year.

Food waste is suddenly the subject on everyone’s lips. A combination of environmental concern and biting inflation has propelled an issue that was already rising up the public consciousness on to centre stage. Some supermarkets are dropping ‘best before’ labels on fresh produce, and this month the British Frozen Food Federation launched a campaign to highlight the virtues of freezing to save money. The issue even gained a mention in the first televised debate of the Tory leadership contest at the end of July, when Liz Truss stated: ‘I am naturally a thrifty person. I like saving money and it also helps the environment. It’s about using less, wasting less, particularly food waste which I think is a massive problem in this country.

The grief is still raw and the news has barely sunk in. I feel quite heartbroken. But I know that many the world over feel the same. The death of Queen Elizabeth II has special resonance here in this country, in the Realms and in the Commonwealth. Yet there is barely a corner of the world that her smile did not touch. There is quote in The Great Gatsby I have always liked, and now it makes me think of her. For she ‘had one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced, or seemed to face, the whole external world for an instant and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favour.

Westminster is often described as a village, and like most villages it has a clutch of good pubs and a decent curry house down the road. But beyond that the area isn’t overly blessed with places to eat, drink and be merry. There’s little in the way of bars (except in hotels and the Palace of Westminster itself), let alone nightclubs. The closest of those is in Embankment – Players and Heaven are favourites (though such is the paucity of choice that Michael Gove clearly felt the need to go all the way to Ibiza to bust his moves). As for restaurants, the slim choice means there is a small group of favoured haunts, and you can be confident that there’ll be a table of political friends (or rivals) a mere onion bhaji’s throw away.

In one of Roald Dahl’s lesser-known short stories, ‘Lamb to the Slaughter’, the guilty Mrs Maloney tempts police officers into enjoying a spot of supper while they’re at her house hunting for the weapon used to kill her husband. That's the hell of a big club the guy must've used to hit poor Patrick, one of them was saying. The doc says his skull was smashed all to pieces just like from a sledgehammer.That's why it ought to be easy to find.Exactly what I say.Whoever done it, they're not going to be carrying a thing like that around with them longer than they need.One of them belched.Personally, I think it's right here on the premises.Probably right under our very noses. What you think, Jack?

I do not yet have any children of my own, but a large extended family means plenty of young nieces and nephews to buy presents for come birthdays and Christmas. Those moments provide an opportunity to indulge in some pedagogic guidance: I’ll be damned if you're getting the latest Fifa game for the PlayStation 5 – you can have a real football to kick around outside. Ditto the inevitable requests for Nintendo virtual reality headsets and Frozen merchandise. Happily, I’ve got at least one Christmas present this year sorted already – and I’m quietly confident my nephew is going to enjoy reading it as much as I just have. Lord Robert Baden-Powell’s life-guide book Rovering to Success is a century old this year.

It took Paddington Bear to solve the age-old mystery of what the Queen keeps in her handbag. When Her Majesty pulled out a marmalade sandwich during the pair’s sketch at the Platinum Jubilee concert this summer, it did more than just tickle the audience. It also served to remind us of our national love affair with marmalade. Long before Paddington developed a taste for it, the preserve had been a stalwart of British popular culture, from Jane Austen (where Lady Middleton applies marmalade as balm for her daughter’s scratch) to Evelyn Waugh (where, in Brideshead Revisited, Charles Ryder eats ‘scrambled eggs and bitter marmalade with the zest which in youth follows a restless night’) – not to mention Samuel Pepys, Agatha Christie and Ian Fleming.

The guidebooks will tell you that Emilia-Romagna is Tuscany without the crowds. It’s generally true, though at the moment – in the peak summer season and when all the world seems to be descending on Italy after years of Covid-imposed separation from la dolce vita – there’s really tourists everywhere in Italy. But yes, with a savvy itinerary, Emilia-Romagna does offer the prospect of lesser crowds than Tuscany or the Amalfi Coast while still getting all the sun, sea, sightseeing and sensationally good food that Italy is all about. Bologna Bologna - a Mecca for foodies Italy’s culinary capital, Bologna is a city in which you can eat exceedingly well.

I know of few greater pleasures than a Saturday morning spent moseying around one of my local second-hand shops in Pimlico. These charity and vintage stores attract a varied crowd. Old-timers, but youngsters too, for whom vintage shopping is hip: not just for its ethical and sustainable credentials but thanks to the current clothing fashion trend for oversized and baggy. Preloved clothing is most definitely having a moment; this year's Love Islanders are even dressing in second hand outfits. Indeed, second-hand shops are perhaps one of the few places that attract both geriatrics and Gen Z. What’s more, vintage shopping is not just for the hard-pressed and hipsters, but for traditionalists too. They are often a refuge of quality British-made products and heritage brands.

For anyone with any interest in the story of Mumbai, or the modern history of Indian food in the UK, Britannia & Co. is a worthy lunch destination when on the subcontinent. An institution in the city, it is one of a clutch of surviving Irani cafes that once filled Bombay. Their fame has peaked in recent years, in no small part because they were the inspiration behind one of London’s biggest restaurant successes of the last decade –Dishoom. These Irani cafes were places where sweaty taxiwallahs mingled with suited and booted business execs, while eating eggs akuri or lamb keema, under wooden fans whirling overhead. The proprietor of Britannia & Co, Mr Kohinoor, tells me the restaurant was before him run by his grandfather and then his father until the age of 95.

The French epicure Jean-Anthelm Brillat-Savarin, writing in the early decades of the nineteenth century, remarked, 'Read the historians, from Herodotus down to our own day, and you will see that there has never been a great event, not even excepting conspiracies, which was not conceived, worked out, and organized over a meal.' And indeed it is true that State Banquets are amongst the most important opportunities for discussion and diplomacy. Her Majesty The Queen has over the past 70 years received well over 100 inward State Visits. She has undertaken over 260 official visits overseas including nearly 100 outward State Visits, making her the most travelled monarch in history.

I love scones. I would go so far as to say they are my favourite morsel of all in the traditional afternoon tea spread. Yes the finger sandwiches are nice, and the mini tarts, eclairs and macarons often an impressive display of the pâtisser’s skill and finesse. But if the afternoon tea doesn’t have a scone, in my book it is not an afternoon tea at all. The appeal of the scone is partly in its simplicity. I can find the opera cake with multiple different types of ganache and the various mini tartlets that feature in hotel afternoon teas sometimes all a bit much.

There are many slightly pretentious ways to make an ordinary plate of food look beautiful. Powders, foams, and gels are all much favoured by Michelin chefs – though they generally don’t improve anything and make it look as if someone has spilt something on your dinner. But edible flowers are one cheffy trick that I do employ when I want to make something look special. Choose carefully and they provide not just a feast for the eyes but flavour and texture too. In the spring and summer months they bring a welcome floral elegance. And if you’re hosting a dinner party and don’t want to rely purely on the silkiness of your homemade pasta or the rise of your soufflé to wow your guests, a few edible flowers will leave them suitably impressed.

Ask a foreigner to name the fruit that above all others epitomises their image of Britain, and it will surely be the strawberry. It is less a fruit than an icon. Redolent of royalty: not just for its role jam sandwiching together a Victoria Sponge but for its colour too, as patriotically red as the tunics of The Queen’s Guards. To eat bowls of strawberries and cream at Wimbledon. To partake of a punnet on a park picnic. These things are as quintessentially British as tea and queuing. What is it that is so evocative about strawberries? They are of course synonymous with summer, and they have about them something of the match tea, of outdoor eating and of holidays. There is nostalgia too: growing up without strawberry jam sandwiches was surely no childhood at all.

It is hard to think of a vegetable which is as eagerly anticipated as that of home-grown asparagus. Partly it is because the season is so short: St George’s Day traditionally marks the start of the season which typically lasts for just eight weeks. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and, so long as we resist the temptations of year-round flown-in asparagus from foreign climes, the arrival of the first spears of this vegetable grown on home soil is as exciting a moment as any in the culinary calendar. There are occasional disruptions to nature’s rhythm: last year frosts ruined large parts of the British crop forcing supermarkets to stock asparagus from abroad.

Beef is one of our proudest national exports. Though showcasing British beef to the world has at times had its challenges, one story raises a smile: as a result of BSE, British beef was banned in France during Lord Jay’s tenure as our ambassador in Paris. He and his wife Sylvia made a principle of serving only British ingredients at ambassadorial functions wherever possible – and, as a result, they felt they could not serve beef at all. As I recount in my forthcoming book, they did, however, have one triumph. Lord Jay recalled: 'Just as the ban was beginning to be lifted the French said that British beef could be imported to the great agricultural show at SIAL, provided that when the show was over the British beef was either burned or taken to the British Embassy.

Easter is almost upon us and with it comes the mouth-watering prospect of roast lamb. It has become increasingly fashionable in recent years to eschew the leg and do a slow-cooked, meltingly tender shoulder of lamb for a Sunday roast. Rightly so, for the shoulder meat is rich and delicious, but when it comes to Easter there is something suitably grand and evocative of the new season about a whole leg brought to the table, pink in the middle and surrounded by spring veg. Rubbing it all over with olive oil, sea salt, garlic and rosemary is a classic preparation – adding some lemon zest too gives a welcome freshness.