Constitution of an ox while simultaneously being the most sickly ailment- afflicted person on the planet. Wasn’t she allergic to garlic and onions for a while? Wailed to her apologetic doctor ‘but I’m a recipe writer’ in a hospital ward in the middle of the night ?
I remember that - and tinned tomatoes.
"But I'm a cookery writer!" I wailed piteously, like a cat that's just had its tail stood on by someone carrying a rucksack full of paint tins.
The doctor gave me a stern look. The kind of look that says "I have a blue tick on twitter" so I thought I better listen to her because those types of people are important and might be a member of the groucho club.
"No you're not" expostulated the medical blue-ticker
I gasped in an agony of regretful dismay. It was so bad I could feel my ovaries groaning in pain. The really bad sort of pain, that hurts a lot more than any pain you've ever been in.
"Wh-what do you MEAN?" I bravely and boldly stuttered. Despite all the hideous and horrible pain I was definitely feeling.
"I've read your crappy blog" the doctor spat viciously, literally tearing my insides open with her words of cruelty.
"and I wouldn't eat that crap if I was starving".
Etc etc etc
PS - if you have any spare potatoes, why not use them to make a delicious trifle?
