Faintly worried about his new-found Paul Hollywood hero worship

Did you know with a Digital Subscription to Edinburgh News, you can get unlimited access to the website including our premium content, as well as benefiting from fewer ads, loyalty rewards and much more. However, things have started reappearing. He came back from Aldi with a little food processing doo-dah that he says is a mini-food chopper.

This was news to me. I didn’t know we ate mini-food. Advertisement Advertisement It’s usually normal sized, even the radishes.



He gave one of those sighs and said it’s for when he “does salsa”. I had to google that. Apparently, it’s a “romantic dance involving close body contact, sensual movements, creating a sense of intimacy and romance between the dancers”.

Blimey, I said. So that’s what you’re doing when you’re whipping up a Chilli con Carne and listening to Radio 5 Live. He sighed and rolled his eyes so hard they rattled.

One such device featured in last week’s Bake-off, he tartly retorted, and if it’s good enough for the kitchens of Paul Hollywood , it’s good enough for ours. Faintly worried about this new-found hero worship, incidentally. He’s taken to glaring through the windows of Baynes the Bakers with his hands in his front pockets, giving the pineapple cakes the full Hollywood laser-stare.

Some gadgets have survived, including the only one I have ever bought and still cherish. It’s my Sodastream. Oh yes, I was way ahead of the curve when it came to carbonated drinks in single use bottles, long before Just Stop Oil kids started chucking soup over priceless paintings and glueing themselves to walls.

Advertisement Advertisement Seriously, young folk, just stop chucking. It doesn’t make a jot of difference, and it’s not terribly constructive. All that happens is that galleries start restricting access and if ever there was a time when people needed to be soothed and inspired by great art, it’s now.

And knock it off with the glue. This is not an environmentally-friendly product. Those discarded chemically-laden tubes on the floor of the National Gallery can’t be recycled, unlike the home yoghurt maker I binned last week.

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