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I'm not a great fan of Delia Smith, but I owe her a debt of gratitude. My mother always told me that I couldn't cook and in my youth constantly derided my efforts to produce anything edible. It's the sort of thing that sticks. One day in the late seventies I was flicking through the Radio Times and I came across a recipe for Gratin Dauphinois - a mixture of potatoes, butter, cream, milk and garlic baked in a gentle oven - and I had two thoughts. The first was that it sounded delicious and the second was that it looked so simple that I thought I could do it. I did and it was delicious.