Anna: We couldn’t say goodbye to the book just yet.
Kirstin: It is still technically August. For another 4 hours.
Anna: And this was a meal that we’d been meaning to cook all month.
Kirstin: It looked really simple, and I thought the kids might enjoy it.
Anna: One of them did. They other acted like you were trying to poison him. In spite of the presence of protein.
Kirstin: And he likes carbohydrates. Because they have the word ‘car’ in them.
Anna: So, step 1. Joint your chicken into 8-10 pieces.
Kirstin: Ah yes.
Anna: We weren’t looking forward to that bit. Being, as we are, inept at jointing a chicken.
Kirstin: I asked my mum to show me how to do it. She was amazing. She made it look really easy. But I know I will never be able to do it. Just like surgery.
Anna: I thought you had to cut up bodies in medical school. A chicken must be easier.
Kirstin: The bodies came pre-prepared at the Royal Free.
Anna: Like the Sainsbums of medical schools then? Wrapped in cellophane and on a blue tray?
Kirstin: I could never eat meat on anatomy days, put it that way.
Anna: I think we should get Lee to give us a masterclass. In jointing chickens, obviously. Not cadavers.
Kirstin: Anyway, I liked the chicken!
Anna: It was lemony. And garlicky!
Kirstin: I spread the garlic on the chicken. After squeezing it out of its papery skin.
Anna: Mmm. Me too. Wasn’t so impressed with the old lettuces though. They tasted weirdly like a Chinese takeaway to me.
Kirstin: No. They tasted like they’d been steamed in dishwater. I don’t care what Nigella says, I’m never making that again.
Anna: And there you have it. Post scriptum endum.