When I was ten, my mum’s best friend Sally told me that if I threw an egg onto the roof of our house and it landed perfectly, it would never break. I loved that story. It’s true that some eggs soared right over the top and landed in a mangled mess in the grass on the other side. But countless more vanished into the wedge-shaped crevice between the two gables. I’m sure they never broke.
Sally taught me that the only way to be sure that spaghetti is perfectly cooked is to throw a strand against the wall. When it sticks to the plaster, it’s ready to eat. Eggs on the roof, spaghetti on the walls, picnics in the rain, hot sausages in the snow, plum and chilli jelly made with fruit left in a carrier bag on the front step by a friend. This is the food that always makes me happy and sometimes makes me laugh…
