I decide to make lentil dahl with rice. It is my best dish and usually meets with approval. I pour in some olive oil and mix in the garam masala and gently heat it on the gas hob. The aroma of pepper, cloves, cinnamon, nutmeg, cardamom, bay leaf, cumin and coriander tantalizes. I stir until hot and then add an inch of orange lentils to the large pan. More frying and blending until I add the water which sizzles and steams for a moment and then the mix becomes calm as it slowly heats. I bring it to the boil and then lower the flame to let it simmer. I peel two cloves of garlic and with a large kitchen knife chop them finely. I take another pan and gently fry the garlic in more olive oil. As it turns golden brown I smell the perfect flavour. I start the rice and give it a good fry and add the water to create another sizzle and steam. The lentils are bubbling away and beginning to thicken. I turn them off and place a lid on them to let them stew in their own heat while the rice cooks. Everything is under control. I set the table and return to the rice which is nearly ready. I turn it off to allow it to consume the last little bit of water and place a lid on it. I unbag a bistro salad and place it in a bowl and add a french dressing and a little extra olive oil. I fill a jug with iced water and a slice of lemon. The doorbell rings and I rush up the stairs to answer it. Dave and Venus have arrived. Old friends from the summer festivals whom I bumped into at an art exhibition. I was surprised at their acceptance of my invitation to lunch. Always the most popular couple in our social scene, they now descend into my meagre basement flat. Dave is jovial with an unassuming manner but his diva of a girlfriend exudes an air of suspicion and wonders why she is being dragged down to such a level. They seem relieved that a table is set. After pleasantries we decide to sit down to eat. I serve up the basic fare. Though excited to have the handsome couple to visit I feel my simple meal is adequate. I do not wish to elevate my social status. Dave smiles and Venus looks quizzically at the food. They help themselves to salad. We enjoy the tasty dahl, tender rice and the crunch of the fresh beetroot, lambs lettuce and red chard. Our appetites assuaged we relax into conversation. I ask Dave how his music is going. He ponders for a moment and gestures towards the guitar leaning on the wall. With an open hand I invite him to be my guest. He takes the guitar and plays an arrangement of the jovial old English folk tune “The Nutting girl”.