The laundry day of the larder. AKA I've run out of food. Presciently, my wife arranged to be in posh restaurant with her mother prior to an evening at the opera. Me, I'm mixing a can of tuna with some pasta, a tin of butter beans, some frozen peas, lightly sauteed onions, a handful of grated cheese, a spoon of mayonnaise, and a generous helping of black pepper. It wasn't half bad. I should probably go to the shops. I'm now down to the stuff that arrived in Christmas hampers twenty years ago.