Years ago, I shared a big cottage in the Peaks at New Year, with 8 other people and we took it in turns to cook the evening meal. When it came to my turn, I made a delicious Bolognese sauce, from a recipe that the Italien mother of an old school friend gave me many years before.
When we all sat down, one of our company looked around and asked where the tomato ketchup was, She and her husband had never been away with us before, but all the others were old hands at this cottage-sharing, and they immediately started to look agitated, knowing what my reaction to this strange question was going to be.
I asked her what on earth would she need ketchup before, as the pasta sauce was quite OK without it ? But she insisted and got up and fetched the bottle from the cupboard.
I told her, very plainly, that I wasn't prepared to spend all afternoon slaving over a hot stove, to see someone smother their meal with tomato sauce.
The discussion soon became rather heated, with her little mouse of a husband trying to keep the peace but I'm afraid it ended with me walking over and chucking her plate out of the kitchen window, on to the snow covered rear garden. I then stormed off to the Pub !
I had to apologise the next morning, although I kept my fingers crossed behind while I did ! I suppose I over-reacted but she hadn't even tasted the pasta, before asking for the ruddy ketchup !
I suppose its just as well we were not in Gordon Ramseys restaurant, as there might have been a meat cleaver sticking out of her back !