It’s funny how much pleasure you can get from cooking when you don’t have to do it every day. I was not a big fan of cooking at home, there was the planning and the shopping, then there was the cleaning afterwards. No sooner had I tidied up from one meal, I was planning the next; sometimes it felt relentless.

I baked a lot when the children were young and then again when the grandchildren came along. I have fond memories of flour covered tea towels and butter fingerprints on the walls. The finished products were always a bit lop sided and rustic looking but they were delicious because they contained that magic ingredient, love.

I didn’t miss cooking when I moved into Westhill Park. The pleasure I get from having every meal prepared for me is immeasurable. Food always tastes better when you haven’t had to cook it yourself.

I know that some people miss cooking for themselves and for them our weekly baking club is something to look forward to. I must admit that since taking part, I too have discovered a fondness for cooking. Now that’s something that I never imagined myself saying.

It’s quite therapeutic rolling pasty and kneading dough, there are no time constraints, nobody rushing you; it’s just me and my baking.

Although nobody will admit it, we do get a little competitive when it comes to our bakes. We all want to create something that everyone will admire and enjoy. I suppose that is what cooking is all about; creating something that others will enjoy. It’s a display of affection.

This week we made chocolate Crispy Cakes, we melted, we stirred, and we licked the spoon. The results were not perfect, Paul Hollywood would probably have raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow; but they tasted amazing, and do you know why? It was the addition of that special ingredient, love.