Bread

My son David is very particular about his French bread. It must not be too light, too thin, or from Tesco Express (smells funny). For the best part of 25 years I have been carefully selecting loaves, batons and baguettes. For about ten years it was one of a very small number of foods he would actually eat, it’s hard to imagine now how bloody awkward that time was!

Tomorrow he moves permanently to London, to finally start the much delayed next phase of his life. This is the final baton - it was deemed acceptable. I shall miss finding the stale last two inches of the uneaten baton shoved to the bottom of the bread bin 2 days later. And many other things.