Its been such a mild winter in Cornwall this year that some of nettles were re-forming on last years stalks, but there were also many new growths, tiny little leaves just poking through. Yummy. Nettle soup is just my favourite. Get it early in spring because plants toughen up quickly, and mature plants can be dangerous to eat as 'stingers' don't break down as easily.

You can pick tiny nettle heads quite easily with scissors, then lift them into a container, using scissors as tongs. Cut them carefully, avoiding any discoloured leaves that might be 'frost caught'. They'll grow back again quickly and you can keep a harvest of fresh tops running into summer by regular soup collections.

Be careful where you gather nettle tops. Avoid fields that get sprayed, roadsides or other chemical contamination. Take them from a wild place that isn't interfered with.

Having written that I put them in a plastic bag because I knew they would be home in minutes, simmering on stove, but normally an open basket of some kind is better for gathering wild food. It's quite easy to pick nettle tops and prepare them without being stung at all.

This recipe is from one of my favourite books - 'Wild Food' by Roger Phillips - a real treasure. I can never enthuse about this book enough. I have made this recipe about a dozen times and each one has a subtle difference based on condition of nettles. One time formic acid was so active soup was actually fizzy ! The fresh nettle soup has a deep and layered flavour, yet delicate. There's something intensely 'green' about it, you can feel it doing you good ( a serotonin hit) - but there's also a sort of 'gamey' flavour.

You've just got to try this one for yourselves.

All you need is about a bagful of nettle tops, about size of a football, for four people. Also: A large Onion, garlic cloves to taste, 2 or 3 potatoes, olive oil, salt and pepper, a stock cube (chicken or vegetable) and some cream.

Firstly, prepare nettles. Wash and drain them. Go through them carefully separating stalk from fresh leaf. You can do this easily by picking them up by main stalk, compressing leaf stalks together and cutting across tops with scissors.

These boxes contained about 50 chocolates, usually two of each main variety. I would eat one and savour its qualities and later on with second one would write about it while I ate it.

Whisky Truffle A nice firm fit in mouth with a rippled texture that melted with blood warmth. After a slow initial start, my tongue encouraging outer layers, truffle imploded gently with shards of dark chocolate bedded into outer mass and burrowing their way into creamy centre. A wide taste of whisky warmed my mouth and filled my heart.

Macadamia Smoothy I fitted dome shape into my upper palate and left it there to warm. The casing slowly melted and then cracked open in places, leaking a subtle flavour of warming gin and neroli-like orange that quickly turned to flavoured fluid. Suddenly my mouth was a river of macadamia and orange and I swam down it to melting point. Like a swift visit to a sophisticated cocktail bar.

Le Crunch An 'energy builder' claimed description. An almond and two hazelnuts sat together and my first bite took one of each. It split like perfect slate and nested while my tongue worked edges, soon feeling nutty texture. Light brown flavours infected my taste buds and increased my saliva. The flavours merged together into toffee. It melted together with surety of a target taste, I could feel it compiling a taste direction in my mouth, leaving nutty shards. I bit into them and nut and praline exploded together infusing a delicious end flavour.

Memories It was lust. A Toblerone made by angels in heaven exploded nutty stars and nougat.

Confit d'Orange The bundle took a while to melt, releasing slow flavours like a distant memory of orange. It broke into an orange wonderland and I rafted on dark chocolate down an orange flavoured stream of pleasure. The enrobing raft stopped me drowning and caressed me into flavour, leaving shreds of elfin marmalade scattered around my mouth.

Smile I wanted to bite into my smile but I didn't. It fitted in my mouth perfectly and I rolled it round and over as it melted to me. As smile melted inside me it infected my heart with a grin. I felt welcomed by a world of tiramou ganache which whispered secret flavours to me about original beans.

Mignonne I placed hazelnut-domed, white chocolate carefully upright into my mouth. My glands secreted swift saliva at its scent, urging melt. Rotating ball, my tongue soon found a nutty texture emerging from robe, leeching subtle flavours. The wafer and nut counterpointed each other perfectly. The wafer melted in waves of creaminess, nuts patiently waited, clustered in melting chocolate. Finally I bit into it and nut maiden ran from her bushes and showered me with sweet kisses.

Kenya The pixelated, rasta-coloured top drew my interest from very beginning. Edible pigment in cocoa butter. It seemed right size to bite into. Chilled to two degrees below room temperature it broke easily in my mouth, crust of tight chocolate breaking easily into a brick like core. I let it rest a moment and suddenly all coffees I'd ever enjoyed rushed me in ambush. I could taste plantation, heat, sweat that had gone into these beans, beating together with cocoa nibs like sharper bubbles in sand. They melted together with a nutty finish. I'm sure I saw giraffes.

Calvados Truffle I popped whole thing in at two degrees below room temperature. I sensed a petrol-like energy building, suggestions of Cox's Orange Pippin bleeding through its melting skin. I rolled it around in anticipation. The flavour hues grew deeper as chocolate escaped into me, revealing a forest of Calvados ganache that stretched away to melting point in a soft, toffee-like ending.

Lime Sorbet A perfect fit in mouth with a fascinating speckle like a bird's egg. The skin fractured quickly to ooze sweet lime that flowed with increasing sharpness across my tongue. The light explosion of fruitiness slowly faded to chocolate bliss dark as a raven's wing.

Rum and Sultana Ganache A firm shape like a square Christmas cake with an enrobed sultana crowning it. It was quite big but I popped it in in one go anyway. The melt started. On one side raisin roughed my tongue like gentle but rough lick of a cow. The internal ganache morphed itself to fit my palate and ultimate flavours started to leech through casing. The temptation to bite became intense and my teeth fractured through sultana, mixing a rush of Carribean rum to float over soft, dark ganache. I put my Bob Marley CD on.

Rose Cream With my first one of two, I was impressed how a flavour as delicate as rose transferred to chocolate. Yum. I was transported to Chelsea Physic garden and my first smell of a chocalate scented fritillary. I was in a bower made of chocolate and scented roses hung around me. Waves of dark chocolate fondant flavour almost overwhelmed me in a moment out of time.