some people will go to any lengths for a scoff of something.
i've seen grown women - very grown, actually - scrabbling in the fluff at the bottom of their jumbo handbags and emerging triumphant, clutching a bon bon, as if they'd just won olympic gold.
the care and precision people take at the baker's at lunchtime, too. shall i have the chocolate eclair with my reduced fat cottage cheese sandwich? or the victoria sponge? oh, but don't those apple turnovers look lovely?
and i'm sure i know someone who holds the world record for the number of recipe books jammed into one kitchen.
there's hardly room to scramble an egg in there.
they're piled on shelves, in cupboards, balanced on worktops, propped up on special recipe book holders.
i'm sure i sat on nigella last time i was there - much better than sitting on james martin, i suppose.
what is it about us and food - can anyone tell me?
why has it become a national obsession?
(i really do want to know, because i'm just as bad!)
