Why There Is No Shame in a Hunger for Convenience

Daily MailMay 04, 2004

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Summary


MY mother still remembers the only occasion on which she was laid low by some lurgy, leaving my father to cook. It was the 1950s, when groceries were delivered weekly in a cardboard box by a boy on a bicycle.

Having found little in the larder, my father heard the cry of the fish man.

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Why There Is No Shame in a Hunger for Convenience

He bought a bumper helping of herring. These he fried, without first heating the fat in the pan.

As the slithery heap warmed, it disintegrated. Before long, with the house now reeking of herring, the groaning invalid was presented with a cowpat of steaming oily fish and, to his bewilderment, she preferred starvation.

The average husband may not have improved much since then.

But, happily for any sickly wife, ...

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