So, for the first time in four years I decided to overcome my natural antipathy to cooking birds.

Set chicken to cook in the fan oven at 230 degrees, as recommended by Saint Delia of the Scones.

Let me tell you folks, this is a bad move.

It is now an hour later and the clouds of burning smoke are only just dissipating. None of the neighbours have girned, this can only be down to our hitherto careful and dedicated intent to render their existence trouble free for the previous twelve years.

I’m a rubbish housewife.