When I’m looking for small moments of joy, I turn to the kitchen – and my notebooks

Celebrating the little things is a lifelong habit of mine that now feels more important than ever. I recently unearthed a stash of notebooks in which I had scribbled down many of the all too fleeting moments, some tiny detail or story, that I felt necessary to record before it vanished, often preserved in no more than a single line. I have now collected many of those moments into one volume – a permanent collection of good things that I hope might bring a little joy to others, too. The result, A Thousand Feasts: Small Moments of Joy … a Memoir of Sorts, is published today.

The homegrown plums, greengages and apples have been a particularly brief pleasure this year – all were over in a heartbeat, and what few fruits there have been were treated like precious jewels – while the figs that did ripen were eaten straight from the tree in an especially piggy feast. It is good fortune, then, that my local greengrocer is loaded with baskets of green and purple figs and others whose sage-green skins are flushed with maroon. I have been using Felicity Cloake’s gluten-free plum clafoutis recipe, swapping her plums for small figs, and the results, eaten with a jug of cream, have been splendid.

Of autumn’s many edible pleasures, few are as elusive as fregola grapes, the ones that taste of strawberries and sweet muscat. I miss the vine that once sprawled over the kitchen doors, but in truth the blackbirds got more of the poppet-sized, garnet-coloured fruit than we ever did. These are the grapes to eat with a chalky goat’s cheese such as Ben and Laura Harris’s Ticklemore, or something softer, such as a wedge of milky taleggio, which might also help the fruits feel very much at home.

The home-grown courgettes are now coming to the end of their season, for which many will give thanks, and the straggling vines will soon be on the compost. Rachel Roddy’s courgette, rice and herb filo pie is a simple way to mourn the passing of the zucchini overload.

With the turn of the season nearly here, there is much to celebrate, and I am already smelling roasting chestnuts in the air. I only wish I liked their taste as much as I do the smell of them cooking over charcoal. The new hazelnuts that are also around will go into my own chocolate, hazelnut and rosemary cake, as well as Rachel Roddy’s delightful and addictive baci di dama. You can never have too much Roddy.

Eyes on the pies | It may seem ridiculous, but my job regularly sees me working weeks (or longer) ahead of real time. So I am already thinking about the holidays. My kitchen smells like Christmas Eve, which is no bad thing – even if I have had to play carols to get me in the festive mood. I have been debating the depth of the perfect individual pie for, crucially right now, individual autumnal apple or blueberry pies. I found just the right depth of tins at Lakeland, a tray of 12 with just the right circumference and depth for a batch of miniature bramley apple pies and this year’s twist on the famous little Christmas tarts, should you, too, want to get an early start.

Vegging out | Of all the cookbooks that have landed on my desk this season, the most inspiring has been Meera Sodha’s Dinner. Of particular interest has been her cardamom- and coriander-scented spaghetti with broccoli and zhoug, a recipe that, in one emerald-green swoop, deals with the head of broccoli that finds its way like magic into my shopping basket each week – or what Meera refers to as the Great Broccoli Challenge.

Bloomin’ good | A quick supper at the Garden Museum Café in London was, as always, a delight. A balmy autumn night found us tucking into baked figs, tender and purple as a bruise, and a milky pool of melting stracciatella showered with toasted breadcrumbs. Then light, parmesan-sprinkled spätzle, the tiny rolls of pasta named after little sparrows. They sat very comfortably with Scottish girolles. Why I passed on dessert I will never know.

What I’ve been cooking | Georgina Hayden’s roast sweet potato, peanut and chilli salad has been on the table this week, neatly bridging the end-of-summer salads with the desire for something slightly more substantial for the cooler days of autumn. The coconut milk, lime and herb dressing calmed the candy-cane sweetness of the potatoes. Vegetarians can leave out the fish sauce.