Nationalist parties have tended to praise the US president’s politics, but many voters dislike his treatment of Ukraine

Europe’s rightwing populist parties are split over how far to distance themselves from Donald Trump’s pressure on Ukraine, with some fearing unflinching solidarity with the US president’s brand of nationalism will damage their efforts to widen their domestic support.

Broadly, unease over Trump’s treatment of Ukraine’s president, Volodymyr Zelenskyy, and the ominous encroach of authoritarianism by the new US administration, is strongest among the populist parties in western Europe and some Nordic countries.

There’s no shortage of non-dairy milks on the market, but which comes out on top for taste, texture and sustainability? Our expert reveals all

• The best coffee machines for your home: your morning brew made easy

Plant milk is everywhere. Once a niche alternative, it now lines supermarket shelves in endless varieties – oat, almond, soya, hazelnut, coconut, rice, pea – and is often the product of choice in coffee shops. Whether for ethical, environmental or dietary reasons, more and more people are ditching dairy. But not all plant milks are created equal. Some taste fantastic on their own but split in hot coffee or tea, some are ultra-processed, and others still have questionable sustainability credentials. Even so, according to the environmental charity Hubbub, oat, almond and soy milk generate at least 68% fewer planet-warming emissions than conventional dairy milk, require less land and fresh water, and have a lower impact on waterways through chemical run-off and eutrophication.

I tested 10 plant-based milks, judging them on taste, texture, ingredients, sustainability and how they perform in coffee, and I enlisted my local cafe, Oru, in south-east London, to help me assess them for taste, texture and stability once heat is applied. Here’s how they measure up.

The photographer on capturing an unexpected image in Istanbul’s Grand Bazaar

Outside a jeweller’s courtyard in Istanbul’s Grand Bazaar, Can Manap watched the rain fall. “I was under a huge tree in the middle of the bazaar,” he says. “Watching the droplets fall, the composition – a marriage of natural and architectural lines – struck me immediately.”

While Manap had his camera on him, he decided to capture this scene with his phone instead. “Photography often lies in the art of noticing,” he says. “Roland Barthes writes about the ‘punctum’ of a photograph – an element that unexpectedly affects the viewer. In this case, the punctum is the tree’s upward reach, symbolising a quiet defiance against the confines of its surroundings.”

The Downton Abbey actor offers a skilful, poetic and bleakly funny account of coping with a lifelong condition

Tuppence Middleton was 11 years old when her parents realised something wasn’t right. It was 1998 and they had told their daughter – who was just emerging from a four-month bout of chronic fatigue – that it was time for bed. Half an hour later, her mother went to check on her and found her still dressed and standing in her bedroom doorway. Asked why, her daughter replied: “I’m doing my routine.”

Middleton – who would grow up to become an actor known for her performances in Mank and Downton Abbey – had developed obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD), a condition that affects 2% of the global population, and left her convinced that if she didn’t complete certain rituals, something terrible would happen: her parents would die, the house would burn down or she would vomit (one of her greatest fears). Her compulsions entailed silently tapping and counting to eight at specific points around the house: doorknobs, doorframes, the corners of rooms, the edges of mirrors.

I had a go at recreating the duchess’s extravagant platter – and at upwards of £30, I have to wonder if she’s trolling us

Mothers have spent the week cursing the Duchess of Sussex for her beautifully arranged fruit plate, the showpiece of her new Netflix series, With Love, Meghan. The substance of the criticism did seem well founded. On a rustic wooden board, Meghan had fashioned a rainbow from the following: what looked like three punnets of strawberries, two of raspberries; blueberries, three kiwis and a pineapple; several satsumas, nectarines, a banana and an unspecified number of dried rose petals.

Meghan’s aim was to “create wonder in every moment”, but who is this rainbow for? Are you trying to kid four-year-olds that they’re literally eating a rainbow (in which case, surely some clouds made of squirty cream would have been in order?) Or are you trying to remind later millennials of Pinterest circa 2011? It’d be good to know, before we drop £31.40 on this preposterous amount of fruit.