So, apparently, coming from a foodie family instils fear into other people when they are tasked with feeding you. IS THIS PASTA OK? What about the SALAD? Let me watch your face while you eat, Izy. Mate, you’re giving me food! Food you’ve cooked! Hey, I like that! I’m not a food critic and I ain’t mean. Let’s just chill out. I’ve brought dessert, it’s a chocolate chip torte that’s so classy/un-classy that we’ll all forget about how stressful this was and focus on trying not to inhale and subsequently choke on the icing sugar dusted on top. Good times, good times.