On Saturday night, I went over to an American friend’s for dinner. It was takeaway pizza eaten out of the box, but around a table. Thus, was I introduced to a concept that is gaining ground in the US (and therefore likely to make it over here very soon) – that of “deep casual” hosting.

And I say no. I say a resounding no to this.

Now, look: I don’t hold dinner parties or anything else involving the distribution of food within my home. I loathe cooking past the telling of it, though I do it seven days a week for my locust of a teen son and his father. What I produce is barely fit for them, let alone friends. When I want to catch up with the latter, we go for a walk if they are that way inclined or I take them out – out, out, away! To flavourful dishes and no washing up! – and I pay the bill.

What I do not do is rip up the most ancient of social contracts by implicitly offering a group of people a home-cooked meal and then serving a takeaway, instead. Invite us round for coffee during the day and we won’t expect more than a shop-bought biscuit. That’s fine. But this? This is a disaffection too........

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