Sunday with Liz Kershaw: ‘I love to cook a proper dinner’
Sunday starts… At 6am. I’ve done so many breakfast shows I can’t break my rhythm. I bought my Victorian bed in a junk shop when I first moved to London. It’s high off the ground, so I swing my legs up and plonk them on the floor: it’s good for your abs, apparently.
A morning routine? Approaching my 60th birthday I decided I was becoming a bit of a porker. I went on a permanent low-carb diet, but on Sundays I might treat myself to toast with my eggs or kippers. After Marr and the papers it’s crap telly: Say Yes to the Dress or Marrying a Millionaire sees me through to lunchtime.
A day out? Not to the shops, unless I really have to. I was on the radio the day Sunday shopping started. I thought it was an awful idea and said so. How much stuff do we need? I like a day without trying on T-shirts and traipsing around Tesco.
Special Sundays? Sharing a flat in Leeds with my brother, Andy, in our 20s. Saturday nights we put on events at the university; Sunday afternoons we’d have parties for the team. Everyone piled in with a bottle. We used to joke that if the West Yorkshire Constabulary didn’t turn up, we’d failed.
Sundays growing up? Oh God, they were boring. It was church, then nothing. But the radio was always on. At first sitting with my mother rolling pastry listening to Round the Horne, and later the Top 20 while doing my homework.
And in lockdown? They’ve been lonelier. I’d normally cook a roast for my boys. They don’t live here, but return so I can feed them. They’ve not been able to visit, although I still make a proper dinner. I won’t bother with a leg of lamb, but I’ll take a steak and Yorkshire pudding for one.