People marvel when I say I wake at 6:27 for an eight o’clock departure, but the thing is, there’re the two breakfasts to be had, and lunch to be prepared, and even with waking at 6:27, most days I find I’m clanging banging running out the door some minutes after the eight o’clock hour.

I like a quiet morning, is the thing, and I really like pottering about in a quiet morning. And pottering about preparing a packed lunch in a quiet morning is a fine way to start the day. Some days lunch is easy, like when it’s tagliatelle in a leftover lamb ragù, or when it’s lasagna-from-two-dinners-ago. Other days, it’s up to the random varied contents of Mr Fridge. There’ve been pickled baby beets and peppered ham on rosemary-garlic bread; chèvre, egg and mesclun on wholewheat; grilled chicken, spinach and Japanese mayo on cranberry. Today I was so lucky as to have smoked trout, spinach, red onions, dill and crème fraîche on sourdough. The side salad was sliced cherry tomatoes and halloumi in olive oil. I hadn’t had halloumi straight up before, without first drizzling fresh lemon juice over slices branded golden brown from the grill pan. Cold, raw, it tasted like feet.