Each week had a theme:
cheese, pasta, chocolate, cream –
an adolescent’s carbohydrate diet dream.
Sourcing the best local ingredients
from the fresh fruit and veg aisle at Safeway,
she became Gordon Ramsay whipping up a feast of mashed potato
with the perfect ratio of green beans to gravy,
rolling the shortest of shortcrust pastry
for her savoury tart recipe had to be better
than those shop bought frozen pies from Linda McCartney.
This chef’s stained apron was miles away
from the ballet-dancing teenage girl asking
“Jeeves, are there calories in toothpaste?”
Who stole the spare house key
and snuck out of school early
just to have ten minutes alone
to inhale a few rounds of toast before her Mum got home.
“Where’s the cooking you made in food tech today?”
“I accidentally left it at school,
tripped over Emma’s bag and it spilled,
had to leave it to cool,
bought the wrong flour,
the milk had gone sour and no one had spare,
the tin was too small,
it was too heavy to carry,
I burned the top of the brownies,
the sauce curdled and split…”
Whatever you say, don’t say you ate it.