Introducing Domesti-Katie

When I lived in a shared house in Chorlton for a year before moving to France, we had a cleaner. Before that I lived with my parents for a couple of years without domestic responsibilities. The poor boyfriend hadn’t really spent enough time with me to realise how un-housetrained I was before I rocked up suitcase in hand to move in. I hadn’t cooked anything in years – I’d spent the past year out on the town most nights, ordering takeaway or stuffing myself with Philadelphia crackers, because they don’t go off in between times. In rural France there are no takeaways. Before the summer starts there are only about two restaurants open in the village and we’d been through both menus. The boyfriend had cooked dinner a couple of times and I knew it was my turn. “So how would you go about frying an egg?” I asked casually.