Why the eggs are on the roof

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…

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