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Clement Freud.

Writer, broadcaster, and politician.

That doesn’t even start to describe him

He used to have a food column in the Observer magazine (I think) in the early 1970s and one stuck out.

It was an instruction manual reflecting the specific nutritional requirements of his children.

Pork crackling, for example.
Not a pork roast with crackling. Just the crackling. (Surprising, considering his jewish heritage, so I might have this completely wrong. But anyway)

Custard skin.

The crunchy bits around the outside of a rice pudding.

And – best of all – psychedelic spaghetti, the recipe for which still resides in my cranium under “Essential stuff”

Cook the spaghetti until al dente, strain and then throw in a liberal quantity of hundreds and thousands and mix vigourously.

And then, of course, there’s the £20 note joke.

Best one ever, IMHO, although it might have something to do with the fact that it’s the only one I can ever remember….