Clockwork plate

I’ve spent a lot of my life bemoaning the national habit of eating take-aways while watching telly. I’ve bossily advocated knees-under-the-table, home-cooked meals as an essential part of family life. But, let’s face it, preaching is one thing, practising is another, and our guilty pleasure is this Clockwork Plate. You eat it clockwise round the plate, starting at the top with the palest or most delicate flavours and working round to the most robust, and ending up with something sweet. It’s hardly gastronomy, but getting all the leftovers out of the fridge on a Sunday evening after a busy weekend of friends and family is curiously satisfying. I decide what goes with what, then put together a picnic supper for John and me to eat while watching some Sunday-night long-frock saga. Heaven. Here is an example, but leftover recipes depend on what’s in your fridge – and, sadly, I have no idea what’s in yours.