I’ve never been one for an over-worked plate, and though sweet treats and fancy puds are sometimes decorated most artfully, they so often under-deliver on their visual promise. I’ve learned to see it coming, and now when I look through the window of posh pâtisseries, I’m wary of confections that have clearly been created with enormous technical skill, and look amazing, but somehow fail to make me salivate. Of course an ‘assiette’ of desserts in a top-notch restaurant can be absolutely delicious – but when ice cream, hot fudge and a scattering of almonds tastes so good, I wonder why they bothered? The mouthwatering recipes that follow are my antidote to all that artifice.

Puddings, for me, are all about straight-down-the-line indulgence. The kind delivered by a slice of steaming treacle sponge and fridge-cold cream, or a slab of good old-fashioned millionaire’s shortbread (chocolate, caramel, biscuit – in other words, a homemade Twix). One of my favourite recipes in the whole book is the affogato (here). A spoonful of ice cream, a splash of strong coffee, a shot of brandy. It’s so easy, it’s pushing my luck to call it a recipe. (Even the brandy is optional – a classic affogato is just coffee and ice cream.) But it’s definitely one of the most enjoyable ways I know to finish a meal.

As you’d expect, you’ll find plenty of sugar here, and plenty of honey. But look closely and you will see they are used with some restraint. Often the sugar is a mere seasoning, brightening the flavour of its partners. A sprinkling is all that’s required to bring out the richness of eggy bread and fruit (here), and you don’t need much to lighten the creamy softness of a rice pudding (here).

Sure, there are some puds – that awesome fudge sundae (here) springs to mind, as do good old meringues filled with cream (here) – where the sugar is central and gratuitous, almost a homage to the sugar rush. But a good sweet treat in my book is never just about the sugar. It must have depth – sometimes even a hint of danger or darkness. A really fine caramel, like the one used for the praline here, has a hint of bitterness from the almost-burnt sugar – and I like to add a pinch of salt too. Other sharp, sour or bitter ‘edgy’ ingredients feature prominently in this chapter: brandy, dark chocolate, coffee, dried fruits, citrus zest. Add to that sweet/not-sweet tension something soft, milky, pillowy (cream or eggs, say), or something snappy (nuts or biscuit), or a yielding background texture (pastry or cake) and you’re there. Unfettered indulgence is duly delivered.