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Editor's Letter: How Cooking For My Friends Has Brought Me Black Joy

When I moved out of my mum’s home over a year ago, the thing I was most excited about was having true independence. Yes, I was 28 and paid my way, but I think many people will understand there just comes a time when no matter how much space your parents give you, you need more. 

So beyond the excitement of living with my husband for the first time, I was excited to run a house on my own terms. Storing things in the places that made sense to me, having a cleaning rota that worked around my lifestyle and picking furniture and accessories for my home that goes beyond my bedroom.

Yet, one of the biggest joys of the last 15 months or so, has been cooking - especially cooking for other people. When I thought of dinner parties, I often thought of Come Dine With Me or scenes from various television dramas and comedies where white people were the leads and the only people gathered around the dinner table as explosive announcements were made. (Yep, think Doctor Foster).