My mouth watered as I watched my husband, Tony, pile my plate high with home-made spuds roasted in duck fat, turkey, pigs in blankets and sausage-meat stuffing.
As Tony and our children, Rhiannon, 17, Ellie, 15, Ben, 13, and Lottie, 10, tucked in, I sloshed delicious, thick gravy over everything before gobbling the lot.
‘I’d sneak biscuits meant for the customers’ It was Christmas Day 2017, and I’d already demolished our traditional breakfast fry-up of bacon, sausages and eggs. Later, after grazing on chocolates all afternoon, we’d share a banquet of cheese and crackers before passing out in front of the TV. But I was determined to enjoy every morsel absolutely guilt free because I knew, come the New Year, everything was going to change.
I’d always loved my food,…
