Friends & Foes

There I was at Marks & Spencer, list in hand, piling on food like there was no tomorrow. It was the third stop of the day after the wine shop and the bakery, and the mild state of panic I felt upon not finding the hispi cabbage in its usual location was only assuaged when, after rummaging through the stockroom, I finally found it.

My dinner was safe.

—

I’ve always wanted to see myself as something that I am not. 

This debonaire entertainer, relaxed and easy on the eyes, laid back in her fabulous (but never pretentious) kitchen. I’d be this cool gatherer of people, creator of connections and anchor of a vibrant community.

But the truth is that having people over had slowly become the type of project that would give me cold sweats and an itchy back. I had developed a Fear Of Entertaining, a FOE.

Yes, me, confident and unfussy. Me, who, you’d think, would be in her element whipping up a delicious pasta for fifteen without making a whole hoo-ha about it, had become the most stunted host ever.

I …