iquorice is one of those Marmite ingredients that can divide a room in seconds. While one half reminisces about the joys of Sherbert Fountains and Joys from the Black Stuff: Liquorice Torpedoes, the other clings to the furniture and dramatically retches. As a respected journalist - well as a journalist, at least - I'm not supposed to take sides in such matters, but I'm afraid I'm not prepared to sit on the fence on this one. After much deliberation and years of dedicated product testing, I'm firmly of the opinion that liquorice is completely and utter delish. And when I say delish, I mean de-dip-dabbing-lish! Perhaps it's because I'm a West Yorkshire woman, born and raised just 15 miles or so from Pontefract, the UK's liquorice capital. Perhaps it's because my grandparents always bought me a liquorice selection box for Christmas and would regularly rock up with attache-case sized boxes of Pontefract cakes (I strongly suspect they had shares - or more likely, a light-fingered friend - in the Dunhill's factory). But, whatever the reason, I have always absolutely loved the stuff. It also means I can please myself when it comes to the dark art of cooking with liquorice, delving into the inky depths of Carol Wilson's latest book - Liquorice, A Cookbook - without having to consult, negotiate or compromise.

And if that means eating a whole liquorice cheesecake with only a big spoon for company, well, so be it. Her book explores the wonderful world of liquorice, offering a cook's guide to the different products available - roots, sticks, powder, syrups and essences - with advice on which ones to choose for particular dishes. There are sumptuous sweet treats, like liquorice cheesecake, choc chip muffins with liquorice buttercream, chocolate liquorice cake and liquorice macarons, as well as intriguing savoury dishes, such as liquorice glazed pork, liquorice salad dressing, crispy liquorice topping for fish and liquorice preserves.