I wish I liked mango. I don't - too slippery.
I wish I was able to peel fresh pineapples with aplomb. I can't.
Beautiful, warm, summer weather demands fluency with tropical fruit and vegetables. I have none.
I may have mentioned this before but I had my first encounter with broccolli, aged sixteen. I was brought up in Woolly-back country. There were no other vegetables apart from boiled cabbage and the occasional mushy pea.
Some people can dress salads beautifully and make leaves look like painterly strokes of variegated green-ness. My salads look like piles of vegetables.
Other people can make perfect dressing with just the right piquancy of sweet and sour, supporting the flavours of their beautifully arranged leaves. I can't.
Perhaps there is a course I can go on. I probably need a few days with Sarah Raven, she of the beautiful gardening boot and vastly stylish culinary and horticultural concern in Sussex (formerly of Gardner's World). I wish I knew her and I could absorb her talents simply by standing next to her.
I don't think she grows mangoes as they're neither indigenous, nor seasonal. They are chock-a-block stuffed with airmiles and that can be prohibitive. I know she grows rocket and glamorously named Italian beans as I have one of her many beautifully photographed books.
Do you think she manages all that growing and preparing and eating all by herself?
Something to ponder upon whilst I watch 'Celebrity Masterchef' in a couple of hours time.
And on another matter...does anyone else have a strange interest in Greg?
Oodyoorather? John or Greg.
Answers to this most inappropriate midweek question on a comment please. Apologies to my overseas visitors who may not know about these two culinary giants.