I’ve been placed in charge of food for our upcoming family weekend away. I didn’t initiate the event, that was my eldest sister. And, as the eldest, she holds considerable sway.

I’ve no resentment over the role I’ve been given. In fact, it’s the pick of the bunch. A chance to shine if I’m brave enough. The weekend away family headcount has shifted a few times and now rests at around 16 people. Everyone’s happy to muck in where needed. They’re the Brigade. And I? I’m Head Chef. Think Gordon Ramsay, Jamie Oliver, or Angela Hartnett minus the skills, flair, and palate.

Here’s the key takeaway lesson. Never, under any circumstances, tell anyone you’ve done a cooking course. The moment it gets out, expectations soar unfairly high. Anyone who’s ever done a course knows the truth. While you're there, on the course, everything works. It’s simple. You're definitely going to recreate it all at home. It’s fun cooking.

But once home, the spirit of the kitchen stays behind. You’re alone. And it’s never the same.

Years ago, I completed a brilliant course in French pâtisserie. Which is, of course, completely useless when cooking hearty food for a noisy crowd. We have friends who’ve cooked for large groups abroad. They make it look easy. Though they accept zero feedback. 'Like it or lump it' is their motto. I, on the other hand, will be receiving plenty of “constructive” input.

My weakness? Over-catering. I operate on the subconscious belief that every adult can eat three times their body weight in all food groups. Suddenly it feels logical to serve a whole chicken per person and a pallet of bread. This time, I’d like to do things differently. I’ll be leaning on wisdom, experience, and acceptance of inevitable failure.

The goal is simple meals that work. And this is where our Mediterranean cousins have it nailed. Family gatherings under blue skies, with good food, good bread, and good wine. I’m borrowing from that spirit to kick off Friday night with a lasagne. It’s the ultimate group meal.

Actually, it’s the go-to for almost every occasion. New baby down the street? Take a lasagne round for the parents. Someone needs support? Lasagne. Not sure how many guests are coming? Lasagne. It offends no-one. It’s a reliable powerhouse of carbs, cheese, meat and flashes of salad and garlic bread. What’s not to love?

But here's the issue, what next? Spaghetti? Too close to lasagne, just sliced differently. Cottage pie? Lasagne with potatoes. Moussaka? Lasagne with aubergine?(apologies, Greece.)

Lasagne is a trump card that must be played with care. That leaves me with five more meals to plan, covering around 80 portions in total over the weekend. This is where I need an Italian grandma to step in and tell me what they would cook next.

How about Cacio e Pepe: Pasta with Pecorino cheese, tomatoes and black pepper. Hang on … that’s…