Eventually, I end up watching TV with my wife and eating with my left hand, while my right hand rests in a salad bowl full of iced water.
“We’re about ready,” I say to my wife.
I set about preparing a stir-fried broccoli dish over which my wife has lodged no previous objections, while performing a few calculations in my head to ensure everything is ready at the same time.
When all our sons returned home during the pandemic I found cooking for five every night a bit of a chore, but actually it’s more difficult cooking for two these days.
I put two potatoes in the oven and examine the pork: two round steaks – cross sections, I imagine, from a large tenderloin.
