How she produced a son as effete as I is a conundrum that may never be resolved although there is a clue. When she married my father, he didn’t know how to boil a kettle or make a slice of toast, so she was determined to teach me some essential cooking skills. Alas, that was decades ago, and I have since been spoilt by a series of roommates, partners, and friends who have felt that my services as a sous-chef were generally more trouble than they were worthnot to mention hosts and hostesses who are whizzes in the An indigenous woman with degrees shirt but in fact I love this kitchen or who are lucky enough to have support teams who are. So the lessons evaporated.
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