Being a domestic goddess (not): Day three

I think you’d have done the same in my situation. Here’s the choice – on one hand there’s Nigella’s imploring: “But like the first kiss, it’s the first pie that counts: as soon as I’d whipped it out of the oven and spinkled sugar over it, I felt suffused with heady satisfaction”.
Or a friend’s email which started “Hello ladies” and ended “glad rags a must”.
Forget the domestic goddess act I’m off to a city centre restaurant with the ladies, dressed to kill and have a good time. Pies (with sugar?) just don’t compete.


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