Ingredients: Because you were once a chef, they think you’ll want to bake a cake for what everyone says is your ninety-fifth birthday party. But on the day, they’ll all go for the cakes that are fresher than yours, so use whatever’s in the back of the cupboard.

Optional: Extra spice. They’ll expect yours to be some beige sponge creation, so slay it with concealed Scotch bonnet chilli slivers. Any complaints, blame your bifocals: insist they looked like glacé cherries.

Timing: Make it quick because who knows how long you’ve got? You won't lie on your deathbed saying, if only I’d made more cakes. Odds are you’ll forget to turn off the oven and die in your bed. This party is lit should NOT mean the house is on fire.

Variations: 

1. Bring a savoury dish instead. Get a takeaway. Tip it into a bowl and no one’ll know. If they ask pull dementia-face, say, Isn’t curry a new kind of cake?

2. Get drunk instead. Create a cocktail using those bottles of unbranded liqueurs you've hung onto because they remind you of long-ago holiday romances. Consider:-

a) You can’t remember their names, never mind where you where you were when you fucked them.

b) They’re probably dead. 

Pour them all into a shaker; shake - all the best bits of your sex life down in one. At best, the party’ll vibe, at worst, it’ll save you from remembering all the unfiltered comments you’re bound to make.

Cook’s tip: If you do decide to be a domestic god/dess, take care when bending down to retrieve your dish from the oven; it’s not so easy to get back up again, and you don’t want to be stuck waiting for the first guests to arrive and help you. Bottoms up should be heard at the birthday toast, not when people start arriving. 

Decoration: Outer appearances don’t matter now; no one’s looking. Don’t fret if it’s a little lumpy where it should be smooth, or even one of those efforts that’s collapsed in the middle. Slap on some icing and conceal with a vibrant ribbon. Finally, take a handful of so what’s and sprinkle liberally.

Best Before Date: You will know that the expiry date is nearly up, but no need to share that news at the party. That said, everyone knows the cake’s past its ‘best before,’ but while your children will compliment you on its everlasting appeal, only some will mean it, and though your grandson will offer ideas on preservation and storage, your niece will tell you frankly that it’s gone off and should be thrown out. 

Serving suggestion: Be sure to use candles, one for every lover who couldn’t keep up with you. Don’t blow them out; they’ll go out on their own when they’re good and ready. Meanwhile, let their tiny fire illuminate your face, your brow-furrowed beauty, your laughter lines. Smile. Cut, and make a wish for a little longer, for the end to be a piece of cake.