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.
I am trying the 5:2 diet, because I heard it facilitated George Osborne's transformation from awful bastard into slightly thinner awful bastard. This requires planning, especially where lunch is concerned, because it turns out that on your low-calorie days getting the turkey club sandwich from Sainsbury's will mean all you're allowed to eat for the rest of the day is dust and grass.
I don't usually eat breakfast during the week, but at the weekend when I've got a bit more time I'll do something proper. So effectively all the breakfasts I eat are hangover breakfasts to varying degrees. The main ingredients are eggs and regret.
I'm having the leftovers of last weekend's tagine tonight, but I want to make a side dish and I've got a couple of hours this afternoon to kill now my enthusiasm for Safe on Netflix has waned, so how about dropping some stuff in a food processor and watching the blades spin round remorselessly until everything's dead.
I am eating some chaource cheese on corn thins for lunch when I notice that the rind is a bit blue-tasting for my liking. I hit upon a plan: what if I could throw it all into a saucepan with some other stuff this evening to deaden the flavour and still fulfil my weekend goal of stuffing a lot of cheese into my idiot face? It's not a very intricate plan admittedly but it's worth a bash.
I thought I'd invented this, but then it turned out it was something I'd bastardised from another recipe years ago. I did come up with the idea of turning it into a bake, though, so effectively I invented the concept of putting a load of cheese on top of something and putting it in the oven. You can't take that away from me, BLAIR.