For as long as I can recall, making and sharing food has been an important part of life; at very least others making and sharing food is something I was aware of from an early age.  I remember sitting on the kitchen bench watching my Mum slather Watties tomato sauce over the top of a meatloaf, soon to be baked and served with a mountain of mashed potato and boiled broccoli.  Midweek dinner time, an event more often than not enjoyed together, heralded that most exciting of daily punctuations for my sister and me: Dad arriving home. I remember standing next to my Dad at the barbecue on Saturday evenings watching him chase freshly shucked buttered scallops around the hotplate while our family and friends gripped glasses of chilled chardonnay, waiting in anticipation.  The scallops would be heaped on a wilting paper towel and acknowledged by words of encouragement: “compliments to the chef.” Food fashions may have changed but good food is good food and they remain some of my favourite things to eat.  

It had been a while since we had people over and the thought of becoming weekend hermits, socialising with only the check out operator at Pak N Save, made me fearful we were getting a bit too comfortable.