Classy Trash

Roast king scallops followed by a platter of langoustines, Goan curry and double tiramisu. “Oooh, someone’s been busy!” croon your satiated guests as you bask in the limelight of their awe-stricken compliments. “Yeah, you’ve been busy alright”, whispers the devil at your table. “You’ve just discovered why mum goes to Iceland”.

Some choose M&S. Others head straight for Waitrose. It takes an arch bluffer to brazen it out with a selection of ‘goodies’ from Iceland. But to varying degrees, we all do it. Habitual dinner party fakers subtly flaunt - or should that be flirt with? – their sins: “it would have been easier to buy the Mediterranean lamb all ready to go, but there’s something really satisfying about spending eight hours preparing a dish like this”. Meanwhile, virtual cooking virgins panic so much about ‘being found out’ that they vehemently deny that even the olives came ready-stuffed and invent over-complicated techniques for a bread and butter pudding that still holds the shape of the microwavable dish in which it came - which will, by the way, have been burnt, buried or stashed in the attic by now, just in case an inspector calls. Check the contents of the ubiquitous glass/cardboard/plastic recycling box by the door; if it’s strangely empty, you know your meal came from a glass/cardboard/plastic container that’s now languishing in a stranger’s bin three miles away.

Tonight (Matthew?), you are going to be Kerry Katona … in Nigella Lawson’s clothing; the guilty pleasure that drives those in pole position on the dinner party circuit.