I was lucky enough to grab the last fillet of a fresh (very fresh) wild sea bass from a great Japanese market close to home. I placed it on a board in the kitchen and considered it a while. It was quite a reverential-looking piece of fish. This fillet, I thought, deserves respect.

While I was thinking how best to prepare it, I cooked some baby fennel bulbs — halved, browned a little in some butter then finished with a dash of water and a sealed lid. A squeeze of lemon to serve and maybe a few strands of torn basil once plated.

Meanwhile, the bass seemed to beg me to keep it simple. I heated a skillet, poured a smidgen of my best olive oil and gently, so gently, laid my fillet skin-side down. I counted several long breaths before turning the fish and adding a knob of butter and a dash of fine sea salt.

I graced my plate with the fennel and the fish and added a final squeeze of lemon. In a separate bowl I threw a few salad leaves together along with a simple vinaigrette and poured an ice cold glass of a French Sauvignon Blanc.

I am writing about this not to boast, nor to receive accolades. Rather I thought to share with you that my dinner was conceived 20 minutes before I ate it, required little in the way of culinary skill to put together and tasted absolutely marvellous.

Not so long ago, I would have over-complicated things and tried to be too clever. It’s much better this way.

Why is it that kids will eat anything if it is on your plate, but turn their noses up when you serve the same foods just for them?

I cooked with a friend last night: a handful of peppered steaks with some great mushrooms, parsley and garlic thrown over; fine English new potatoes, sweetly buttered; broccoli; and a vibrant salad all washed down with some good wine.

As we opened our fourth bottle a little before 11pm, I decided this was the perfect meal. The food was neither so poor that we felt unsatisfied nor was it so spectacular that we felt obliged to talk about how sensational it was. It was a part of the meal, not the point of it. It accompanied good banter, laughter, a few tears, provocative and inspiring conversation and, at the end of it, a decent memory of an evening well spent.

GreatGrub indeed.

I made the mistake of buying an orange liqueur that was not Cointreau. Whoops! Big mistake. The Sidecar wasn’t up to par, and the Simple margarita — forget about it. I thought I was saving a few bob, but I ended up losing.

David Embury was right. You need quality ingredients to make a quality drink.

Anybody want to buy an opened bottle of orange liqueur. I’m selling — cheap.

I had a GreatGrub party for my twins’ tenth birthday. A posse of their school friends cooked Carmen’s quesadillas, Summer flank steak, fajitas and chocolate fondue. Went very well… recommend it to all parents.

I marinaded too much flank. I cooked it for my extended family the following day who didn’t seem to mind the lime had already cooked the meat!

I ran into my neighbor Tess in the supermarket. A few minutes later I ran into her husband who happened to come at the same time. When he heard she was there he went running to great her with great excitement. I hope that after a busy day I always have that kind of love for my wife!

I added purple carrots from the farmer’s market to my chicken soup the stock turned purple. Tasted pretty darn good though. I need to add that recipe — sans the purple.

I got a bag full of beautiful heirloom tomatoes today at the farmer’s market. I asked if they had any bruised tomatoes and got some real beautiees at a $1 a pound. It’s Tomato Soup tonight!