A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, I went out for dinner in Paris. I was in high spirits. Although it was a miserable, chilly, February evening, I was on holiday, I’d found free parking and to top it all, Nelson Mandela had just been released from prison (yes, this really was …
So, last night, I’m at home, cooking macaroni cheese. Now, my macaroni cheese is good. It is rich and golden, it is unctuous and gorgeous. It is an artery-hardening, full-fat delight. There is much cheese, of many varieties. And that’s the problem. There are three boys in my house, Sam, Silas and Linus, and they …