In which I am the victim of a serious crime, and for what might be the first time eat veal: the pork of beef.
Some notes on Christmas dinner, because everyone likes being told how to do that, plus a chowder so good it will make you reassess your religious beliefs.
In lockdown, things to look forward to are vital. Lunch is one. The delivery of whatever useless tat you've been suckered into buying online is another.
There's a lockdown trend afoot: recreating fast food at home. You can imitate the meal, but there's no substitute for the shame.
When two worlds collide: a 1997 Paul McCartney album and its influence on the trailblazing decision to put chilli in a pie.
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.