Considering Shrove Tuesday's pretty heavy, somewhat dismal religious origins, it is funny how the day before lent has come to be an almost festive occasion in most households. Presumably this is because giving something up, let alone fasting, has diminished in popularity and so 'pancake day' is just an excuse for gorging on fried batter.

T.B and I made batches of some sort of Savoyarde-inspired crepe, which developed from (could we call it a starter?) basic folded crepes with ham, cheese and grainy mustard, to a perfect two-crepe surprise: cutting open the pancake broke the yolk of an egg, which was stuffed in between more ham, more cheese, more mustard, and some garlicky parsley mushrooms.

I would like to say that we finished here, subverting most people's pancake conventions and sticking to savoury. However, dessert had to be made from the few pancakes we had leftover. In keeping with the French style, it had to be a citron/sucre affair, but there were some diversions in the form of melted mars bar, peanut butter and ice cream.

Zucca, Old Town Edinburgh

Zucca sits adjoining the Lyceum Theatre. This is both fortunate and unfortunate for them: it would be easy to pass off average food and still remain busy simply because of the location. However, perhaps because of the expectation of their clientele on a special evening out, they might be wary of slipping to the standard of other ‘pre-theatre’ offers.

When I arrived at 6.15pm I was obviously one of the first. There is a café on the ground floor which one enters into, reminiscent of a late-night Italian bar – sadly, Edinburgh locals have not yet adopted an all day dining/drinking tradition so there was a lack of smoking cronies in the dark corners. Luckily I spotted some fantastic looking cheeses at the deli counter that remedied the discouraging entry.

The menu is not too large but still varied, with a fair amount of vegetarian dishes that certainly did not look boring: beetroot and Dolcelatte risotto would have been my choice if I were not such a meat lover. My braised pork and vegetable terrine mixed Italian and English tastes with the addition of a pear and apple chutney. The grilled polenta with sautéed mushrooms, leeks and rocket, was lacking in strong flavour but did feel comforting and home-made.

We had to try Zucca’s signature dish: potato gnocchi cooked with duck confit and pistachios. It looked plain but tasted rustic – I imagined it to be very authentic. Warm, countryside flavours were spruced up by plenty of truffle oil. Our other main, braised shoulder of lamb with mushrooms and pancetta was also delicious. Perfectly cooked meat in a winey sauce over extremely smooth mashed potato: it seemed we’d chosen the best of Italian comfort food. Generous portions meant we were feeling stuffed when we came to order desserts, so settled for the ‘lighter options’ of grapefruit panna cotta and ice creams. These were disappointing after such a great meal. The ice creams were slightly melted when they arrived and the four flavours of blackcurrant, chocolate, vanilla and lemon sorbet did not mix at all well.

Zucca serves delicious Italian food, but the atmosphere and space felt too much like a chain for me to want to make it a regular haunt. This sort of food merits more than to be served in an average airy space adorned with theatre posters.

Read a slightly altered, intensely complimentary version of this review in the Edinburgh Student newspaper

A night at the taverna

R pointed out a small Greek restaurant in Tolcross to me the other day - "I've been thinking we should go there together," she said. Whether this suggestion was made on the grounds that my vague Greek heritage would have caused me to feel a terrible longing for some feta, or simply because R thought 'My Big Fat Greek Restaurant' looked pleasant, is irrelevant now. What matters is that spurred on by this misunderstanding the girls at Melville Terrace decided it would be best to prepare something Hellenic just in case I really was forgetting my roots.

C and I arrived with a dessert in tow, and the door buzzer was answered by what sounded like a Greek island grandmother. Up the stairs and into a dimly lit taverna replica, the only thing lacking was a sea breeze and a glimpse of the small grandmother topping and tailing okra at the back of the kitchen.

Plates of taramasalata and tzatziki adorned the table, with a pile of home-baked pitta breads (!) for dipping. Alongside this we ate grilled aubergine-wrapped parcels of feta and tomato or red pepper, all made by R. Perhaps now she and I will have to try the local Greek joint if only to compare with her own triumphant spread. The dessert I had brought was from a favourite recipe of my mum: spicy greek yoghurt cake. Despite for some reason completely overflowing in our oven, causing quite a bit of mess, it is a great cake made with lots of dark brown sugar, cinnamon and allspice and a chewy dessicated coconut topping. To the readers at Melville Terrace, let us make Greek Night a regular happening. I'm starting to feel a craving for fried cheese...

The past week has been one of our best yet for food at 3F2. T.B, having recently returned from the Central African Republic within days decided to replicate the eating experience he'd had there. So, off he went to find some manioc and a huge amount of peanuts. For so few ingredients, the meal turned out superbly and despite not eating on the floor with our hands as T had encouraged us to, it felt very authentic. Unfortunately none of the Edinburgh grocery shops stocked the 'bitter manioc' grown in the CAR, but given that it contains cyanide the process of cooking it might have taken more effort than we could muster on a Tuesday night.

C.A.R peanut stew

1 whole chicken, cut into pieces (alternatively porcupine, or duyka, a small forest antelope if you can get your hands on it)

3 cloves garlic

4 onions

250g (?) peanuts

1.5l stock or water

a few plantains

a bunch of kale or spinach

Place the peanuts in a frying pan over a low heat to gently roast them. Take them out when the skins have coloured. Brown the chicken in some oil in a big heavy pan. Remove it, then cook the garlic and onions until soft. Meanwhile, in another pan or large pestle & mortar crush the peanuts and as the skins fall off, blow them out of the pan onto the floor. Continue to pulverise them until they form a pastey peanut butter. When this is ready, add to the pan along with the stock or water. Let it simmer for a while - it will be very beige and thick. Add the sliced plantains after about half an hour and when almost ready to eat, let the kale or spinach wilt in the pan for a few minutes.

Serve with rice and eat with your hands.

Into South-East Asia - J cooked up a classic 'nasi goreng' which she learned from her mum. I had seen it served at Stravaigin's in Glasgow as a breakfast dish with an egg on top, so we tried that. It worked really well with some crispy onions sprinkled over. Glad to be making use of the 'poach pods' my sister bought me for Christmas. They look a bit like something you'd pull out of a bra, but are really easy to use and clean.

The final highlight: taking advantage of J being away in France to cook some lamb (which she doesn't like - sorry J). C mentioned that she wanted to roast a leg and have it with some creamy flageolet beans and I remembered having read that Tamasin Day-Lewis had copied her idea in her Kitchen Bible. I don't need to say much because despite the weirdly unflattering picture it's obvious the lamb was perfectly pink (for me anyway).

Monday Alpine Macaroni Cheese

Tuesday CAR stew

Wednesday nasi goreng

Thursday Leg of lamb with flageolets and sweet potato

Friday Butternut squash soup

Saturday slow-roast pork and apple butter

Sunday a party table of leftovers and some fresh houmous