FEEDING FRIENDS

Sometimes I leave writing a post a little too long and the words I thought of, the words in my head seem to get stuck. I know what I wanted to say but getting it out becomes... tricky. It's that moment when you see someone you recognise but their name hides at the back of your mind, the times when you're in the supermarket and know there is something else, something you really need but you go up and down every aisle mentally going through the contents of your cupboards and... no, still no memory of what that elusive thing could be, it's that song, you know the one, it has that bit in it, the bit that always gets stuck in your head, no I can't remember the name but you know it...

All of this to say that I wanted there to be preamble to this, a discussion of the different ways people prepare for having friends over for food, how far ahead you issue invitations, how many courses you prepare, how long you spend in the kitchen.

And the point of the lost preamble that I now realise was probably superfluous was just this. I love feeding my friends. I love to cook food that I know people will like. I love to sit at the table and eat and chat until late at night or, more often, the early hours of the morning but for me that means inviting people over, sometimes in advance, sometimes that day. It means planning a meal so that I can drink a glass of wine and chat before we sit down. It means that starters are more usually nibbles. It means a big pot on the table with instructions to all to help themselves.

Last Saturday it meant inviting Catherine over on a whim, it meant gin and tonic, it meant Nigella's moroccan roast lamb marinaded in ras-el-hanout, garlic, lemon juice and olive oil from Forever Summer, it meant green couscous from Plenty.