If you ask around, chocolate is the comfort food of choice.
It consoles many during the trials and tribulations of emotional investment.
But what if it's 25 degrees outside? Helen is visiting and providing much needed girly chats, support and little black dress buying advice.
She is admirably soldiering on with catch up conversations and single handedly putting the world to rights whilst I drift off into a reclusive state of melancholy.
I've got to make it up to her, so I took her for Cakes and Pimms at lunchtime and we shall be hitting the cocktails tonight... But what to do for dinner?
Salad was requested but I never heard of anyone turning to a stick of celery for solace or drowning their woes in coleslaw.
As a compromise I think I'm going to go for a snazzy Caesar Salad.
Some buttery roast chicken, crisp green lettuce, Parmesan, sour cream dressing should shake off the cobwebs. Big ol' bits of grilled ciabatta will take on the role of croutons as a nod towards lining the
stomach before I drag myself out to paint the town a filthy shade of