In a few (where few can be considered to be a number greater than five, but with an upper bound determined only by the intricacies of the US immigration services) months, I'm going to be leaving the UK.

(It's not quite doing a Phil Collins, honest. Incidentally, my post-Coalition meltdown has receded a little, finding myself in the frankly bizarre position of looking forward to most of the 'Great Repeal', although trying to make it out that it's more important than extending the right of universal suffrage smacks a little of hyperbole, Mr. Clegg)

Anyway, I will be leaving, and this will be my last Summer in Britain. So there will be a need to do some things before I go. Like going to the seaside, making sandcastles and playing crazy golf (thinking about the future, obviously), walking on the South Bank as the sun goes down, a trip back up to Manchester to see the hallowed ground of BBC North, a few concerts here and there, and of course the World Cup (even if I'm not much of a football fan).

This will be followed by an overdose of DVD watching of childhood favourites like Maid Marian and Her Merry Men, Dark Season, plus a skip through of The Beiderbecke Affair, Boys From The Blackstuff, Jeeves & Wooster, and as much Doctor Who as my family can bear. It's going to be fun.

After all that, I will probably spend the first couple of months in Durham wearing a suit and bowler hat whilst being insufferably Britain. Sorry about that in advance, people of Durham. But! Because I simply can't bring over shipping containers full of hobnobs, chocolate digestives and HP sauce over with me, I need to learn how to make a few things.

(Believe me, I've seen what they try to pass off as mincemeat in American supermarkets. shudder)

Sherbet in America means a frozen dessert similar to a sorbet, not the fizzy joy that hung around the 1p / 2p sweet sections of the newsagents of my youth. This did lead to some funny looks whilst in America when I gleefully told people that I was making it; the white powder was not quite what they were expecting.

But how does it work and how can I make it? The fizz is the result of the reaction that occurs when a mixture of citric acid and sodium bicarbonate meets water (i.e. your mouth). However, you need to mask the flavour of the bicarb and cut the massive sourness of the acid somehow. And traditionally, that's done by using a considerable amount of icing sugar. It is a sweet, after all.

Sherbet Base Recipe

• 2 tablespoons icing sugar
• ¼ teaspoon citric acid
• ¼ teaspoon bicarbonate of soda

There's very little to it; mix together, sift into a bowl, and package (given that I've been ill all week, this is about as much cooking as I'm up to right now). The citric acid will give it the classic, almost lemon-like flavour (you can adjust the citric/bicarb levels to your taste; if you make it too sour with the citric acid, you can just add in more icing sugar to soften it again). All you need now is a stick of liquorice and you're done!

Except I'm never satisfied. One of the things I'd like at Fallout Durham is a selection of different flavoured sherbets sold in little packages with lollipops. Sweet paprika sherbet, anybody? Szechuan Pepper? No? Nobody?

Bah. WHERE'S YOUR SENSE OF ADVENTURE, PEOPLE?

Okay, I decided to make a small step rather than a big leap. A handful of freeze-dried blackcurrants, ground to dust in a coffee grinder and folded into the sherbet mixture. Fizz and blackcurrant - the only thing that could make it more British would be to stick a Union Jack on it…

(and yes, I do plan on exploring making liquorice sticks as well. But that'll be a little bit later)