I usually consider myself something of a dab hand in the kitchen. My partner Telma, by contrast, would have been a perfect contestant on 90s cooking gameshow Can’t Cook, Won’t Cook.
But as she turns out a perfect Portuguese orange cake followed by a fluffy lentil loaf, I’m starting to feel the weight of self-imposed expectation. “Wow, Telma!” coos Graham, one of our hosts, as she reaches for the bread knife.
Attention now turns to my sweet potato rostis. I’m sweating on them after frying off a few dozen over the stove. Back at home, I love to host and I love to feed, but I also like to be well fed myself so there’s something in this for me too.
