Lumpy gravy? Now that’s an emergency!

EVERY large fire station used to employ at least one cook to provide lunch for firefighters on duty in the week, but we took it in turns to cook for the Watch every weekend. I hadn’t been at my new brigade in Kidderminster for long when I was detailed as mess man to cook 12 Sunday roasts for my new colleagues, so naturally I was keen to make a good impression. Everything appeared to be cooked to perfection as I started to plate-up when the lunch hour approached, but the pressure was on as I heard the banter escalate as my colleagues ascended the staircase in anticipation. I just had to make my speciality gravy, which was to be the crowning glory. I’d saved the juices from the meat and water from the vegetables, and added a pinch of herbs. It would not be too thin or too thick: a meal in itself. Then, disaster! It was full of lumps. I grabbed the colander I’d used to strain the potatoes and vegetables, and poured — then stared in horror at all the lumps I’d saved, while my rich, tasty, smooth gravy disappeared down the plughole . . .

Brian Rushton, Stourport-on-Severn, Worcs.