‘I come in from a night out, pissed. And suddenly I turn into Gordon Ramsay.’
You wouldn’t look at that jar of sage in the back of the press under normal circumstances and that solitary lemon in the fruit bowl would always remain un-squeezed – unless you’re pissed. If you for some reason you forget to go to the chipper after a night on the tiles and you get those hunger pangs, then you will most probably decide you’re a culinary genius once in sight of the kitchen.
You set out to make a sandwich but before you know it, you’re flambéing the corned beef and sautéing the mayonnaise. Rarely matters though – everything tastes great when you’re locked.
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