Zoe Williams is a funny writer but a lot of her longer pieces read like half-baked message board posts (and I should know). This one, railing against the current fashion for liver and bone marrow, is no exception. Williams builds a straw man that would have made Christopher Lee proud as she attributes any possible motive to middle-class offalophiles – they’re being perverse, they’re flaunting their wealth, they’re inverse snobs on an authenticity grab.

Occam’s dripping cleaver would suggest that they – who am I kidding, we – eat offal because we like it. But oh no. A seasoned Freaky Trigger reader might draw parallels between the liver fan and the grown-up pop fan, who is painted as lecherous, ironic, guilty or simply lying. Zoe Williams hates offal: this is her look-out, but her preferences aren’t universal. It is true that offal has been ‘rediscovered’ lately – perhaps this is because a generation who grew up hating it are now learning how to cook it well. I always liked kidney, but liver was a charred and leathery school dinner nightmare. On the other hand so were carrots and peas, and nobody is accusing vegetable-eaters of faking it. Williams has a go at the fancy restaurant culture, but everyone I know who’s been to a place like St John has come back dying to try out those foods and styles in their own kitchens. This rediscovery is genuine.

*as ever, fry this word lightly with a pinch of salt.