When boiling bones turned into a Great British Burn-Off

The handsome fang-tooth snake eel

ELISE BREWERTON: When the tide begins to turn

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You know your cooking’s bad when the neighbour rings up of an evening because they’re concerned about the smell.

This is what happened to me on Sunday.

My neighbour had searched his own house for signs of a fire before concluding – quite rightly as it happened – that the offensive odour was emanating from my kitchen.

I was merrily boiling some bones to make chicken stock and dog treats, but became engrossed in The Great British Bake-Off (a repeat) and failed to hear my own pinger.

The worst part about it is that the smoke alarm didn’t seem to care about The Great British Burn-Off that was happening just a few feet away.

Check your alarm batteries, people!