Today we had mashed potatoes

You know how there are some things that are so evil, so wicked, so unutterably BAD, that they are just not allowed to happen? Well, mashed potatoes are like that for me. If there are any within reaching distance, I shall finish them. Full or not, I can eat endless quantities. I just love them. Therefore, I do not make them. Mashed potatoes do not feature in my house. Until tonight.

I ought to explain that I am, at the moment, trying to empty the freezer so that it can be cleaned out and re-stocked for Christmas. As far as I am concerned, the trick to having the family to Christmas is to cook as much as possible beforehand and freeze it. I refuse to be a slave to the kitchen on the day. Hence, the red cabbage is cooked a week before and frozen; the first course is frozen at least three weeks before, etc. You get the idea. On the day, the only things that need actual cooking can go in the oven several hours before the visitors arrive. Once they get here, the most energetic thing I have to do is open the champagne, the nibbles having been put into bowls/plates at least two hours before. The menu is carefully planned to allow all this.

All this drivel to explain why today, most unusually, I found myself cooking minute steaks. This would not, normally, be weekday food nor, if I'm honest, ordinary supper food. But there was a packet in the freezer that needed using and a friend was coming to supper so, what the heck, I decided we could have that. Which is when, for some inexplicable reason, I developed an absolute craving for mashed potatoes to go with it. In vain did I tell myself it was too much work - my friend said he would help. Stern warnings to myself about calorie content were ignored. The delights of steamed potatoes were eschewed. We made mashed potatoes - my way, with oil, and seaweed salt, and a dribble of semi-skimmed milk.

They were delicious. We mixed them with mushrooms. We lingered over them. We reheated them in the microwave for seconds. We licked the bowl. In short, I disgraced myself. I do not even want to imagine what it has done to the diet. I don't think I shall weigh myself tomorrow morning.