"I would love to sit," she says, gratefully. "I don't get all that much chance to at the Inn." It is, occasionally, a guilty pleasure, sitting down in the daylight hours.

The little cakes are still warm, thanks to the pillowcase, firm and coloured from the strawberries.

"Strawberries boiled with Mountain Sorrel, then cooked on a hot skillet," she explains. "Apparently it's something the American Indians did, so I decided to try it.

I'm fairly certain it won't kill us."

That's a joke, but also a cook's pre-emptive self-depreciation in case it turns out bad.