We are going to Kate’s today for a proper Sunday lunch.

Ever since the beginning of December when my ovens went ‘kaput’ perversely I have yearned for a proper Sunday dinner.

And strangely enough we don’t often sit down in the middle of any day for a meal.  Daytime is usually too precious to spend most of it cooking and eating and then inevitably sleeping it off.

So it doesn’t have to be lunch any time will do.   It is the sitting around the table that seemed too big at one time, then just right and now a bit of a cosy squash as the family has grown.   It’s the sharing and chatting and teasing, and remembering.

Sometimes the conversations get a bit serious and real debates ensue, but more often serious or not they soon disintegrate into laughter and even dare I say it, bawdyness

And of course just as important,  crunchy roast potatoes and golden roast chicken and home-made gravy, although it could just as easily be Roast Beef, and Uncle Robber’s famous Yorkshire Puddings, which all of us cooks aspire to but never quite achieve as well as he does.

And yes,  I know that almost every Pub does Sunday lunch these days but even the best is not as good as home cooked and shared around a large kitchen table with family and friends.

And that is what I miss about the lack of an oven!

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