So lockdown's come to this: baking, and the obligation to perform constant mental arithmetic because the recipe you're following is measured in US cups.
Good Friday proves my best lockdown day so far, better even than the one when Amazon delivered my new four-socket surge-protected extension lead.
A week before lockdown is announced there are rumours it's coming. I go out to buy food, feeling panicked, though it goes without saying I'm not panic-buying.
My most long-term fridge resident, the jar of Tesco Finest garlic chutney, has finally moved on to better things.
I am happy to announce that I have invented what I call the "stir" "fry", a meal composed entirely of – and this is the clever bit – things you have fried while stirring. The stirring is key, because otherwise the things will burn.
I have never to my knowledge eaten any Nigerian food, but it sounds like it involves big piles of chicken and rice, which is very much in my wheelhouse. I decide to eat some.
All food bets are off around the Christmas period: a lawless time when it feels reasonable to have fudge for breakfast and you can drink Hofmeister at 10am without anyone raising an eyebrow. So as going to the effort of making one burger seems a waste of energy, I'm going to have two.