I really wish someone would write a realistic cookbook though:
"I look back wistfully on the days of my youth when I would camp down on the library floor, cook books scattered round me, while I leafed through the varied pictures of inspiration from across the globe. I had someone to impress, a romantic night planned, and a Saturday morning perusing the local butchers and greengrocers for ingredients. My imagination could run wild and, at the end of it, I would likely get laid.
Ah, sweet memories as I peel myself away from my emails to ponder what I can rustle up tonight...
Here's my recipe for when you've worked late, the kids are being shits, and you just cannot be bleeping arsed:
1 - bottle of wine
1 - second bottle of wine (never two bottles, always one and one)
1 - Chinese menu
1 - £10 note
A handful of loose change
Generously glug the wine into the largest possible glass.
Adopting a stern tone, briskly shake the menu towards the children and announce "PIE" and give them a glance that ensures no dissent.
Leaf through the remaining menu before settling on your usual choices.
Call, to be met with "is this XX Bland Street Name? Usual?"
Gently shake loose change while watching the clock.
Serve indelicately tipped onto your biggest plate and enjoy with a fork and tit tv."