I’m in the middle of Jason’s long-awaited staycation, and promised to honour the unspoken codes of the work-free coalition…

But listen, to enjoy the most luscious… twirling… not to mention absurdly easy soft-serve ice cream at home, the kind that you previously believed to be the exclusive reward after chasing the ice-cream truck in a 95F crushing heatwave, is now, as we speak, no longer a fantasy. No churn, virtually zero ice-crystals or air-molecules, made possible by a good pinch of unflavoured gelatine and realised inside your humble food-processor, this laughably good… almost mockingly easy mascarpone soft-serve will very simply put, blow your mind. It tastes like a belated romance in August, sweet, voluptuous and satin-like on your tongue. It’s softly blooming, sensual and brief in nature, almost female-like. And she yearns, just as any other, to to be seen and had with her true love at the height of her prime, and to say the least, he ain’t Mr. Softee. Which, brings us to this. Go, and get yourself the fruitiest extra virgin olive oil you can manage, and then, a bottle of the best balsamic vinegar that you can spare (like these ones from Modena). Then grace her porcelain-like skin with a kiss of this twin-like liquid gold, and all together, it will taste lush and grinningly tart, fruity but complicated, with the occasional sharp punch. It will taste like… some kinda love. And perhaps, the best kind, simple and available.