Busy life, but there's always time to cook; FOOD.

Byline: BILL OLDFIELD

THIS is absolutely wonderful", she said. "It's a doddle", I replied, but I could instantly tell she didn't believe me. "You cook such lovely meals and I appreciate how much effort you put in", but I was already thinking she didn't actually understand.

Of course I was pleased she was pleased.

That's what cooking for someone, even yourself, should be about.

It's not just refuelling. Anyone can do that without thought. But we have to eat, every day of our lives until we die. It's an inescapable fact, like breathing which we also have to do and the Clean Air Act helped us do it better - and longer.

I was being praised, not just for a lovely meal but also for putting myself out, for working, for going beyond the call of duty. Which, of course, is rubbish.

As I sat back while the Antiques Road Show rattled on in the background, I wondered how much work I'd actually had to put in to produce such accolades. And, while it's easy to say that it was nothing, what I found more interesting was what else I'd been doing at the same time and, as a loving and thoughtful husband, how little thought I'd put into planning.

Thinking it through, I developed a mental diary of my day. I was due to depart for a week's business trip to South Africa in 24 hours and, like anybody about to embark on time away, I felt under pressure to get done all that was necessary before flying - despite not even writing a to-do list.

That Sunday I woke at the normal Sunday time with a slightly poorly head, wondering what I must have done last night and whether I'd upset anybody. Assuming I had and quickly getting used to it, I settled down to things that could be achieved rather than worried about.

After a coffee and a browse through the papers, I wandered outside to get a little fresh air and suddenly realised that my sheep had run out of grass some months ago and, twice a week, needed feeding.

So, after emptying the last bag of feed into their trough, I went to the local feed merchant (they are open on the Sabbath) and bought enough food for my wife to feed them for a week - and then we went back down to the paddock to show her how they should be fed.

That's half the morning done.

As I walked back from the paddock I realised that spring had sprung and noticed that there were dozens of bushes to be pruned which, while I was doing it, reminded me that the grass was just starting to grow and that at my next opportunity to get in the garden I would be confronted by grass that needed cutting - and I've a lot of it.

So, after an hour or so's more pruning, I went and made myself another quick coffee and then to the shed to inspect the lawnmower, only to discover that two of the tyres were flat. Yes, it's a ride-on but, with so much lawn, riding around allows me to make a few calls and down the occasional can of beer. I managed to pump up one of the tyres but, after 20 minutes of invigorating exercise, I realised that the second one was going nowhere. So, jacking the machine up, I removed the wheel and went into town to get it sorted. Back an hour later I suddenly remembered that, the next day, prior to travelling, I was giving a talk to a local community group so sat down to write it. But staring at the unlit fire for inspiration, realised that my wife might want to keep warm if the weather here wasn't quite what I was expecting in South Africa, so then spent some time sawing up wood.

Looking at my watch, I realised that time was running out as I had an important meeting in the pub at five; an unavoidable appointment only excused by death (of either a close relative or me) or a trip well out of the area. Realising that I'd qualify next weekend but not today, I quickly finished, washed my hands and headed for the kitchen. After all, I wanted a good meal upon my return.

So take a look at the recipe on this page.

Apart from the few minutes taken putting the meat in a bowl to marinade earlier on in the day, it took me a total of 15 minutes before I went to the pub and a further 15 minutes afterwards.

It was one of the best meals I've ever eaten.

Sure, I left it in a slow oven while imbibing. But don't tell me that cooking good food's difficult or time consuming. Even a fool who can't plan his day can do it. And I'd cook it for you if I had the time.