After such a miserable attempt in cooking eggs, I wanted to give bacon another go as I knew, deep down, I would be able to make the perfect bacon. After a few hours at uni procrastinating, I arrived back at my flat and took a look in the fridge. I still had a few rashers left from yesterday, as well as some chicken that needed eating up. A bag of cheese at the back was still unopened and some ham looked lonely at the back of the fridge. I had bought some milk too that was still unopened and I knew that if I didn’t start it soon, it’d be in the bin before my breakfast – and so I came up with the master plan.

I’d cook it all.

And yes, that is a colander sitting in a frying pan and for those eagled-eyed-readers, you may have noticed the chilli powder is still in the mix of things here!

So I began by setting a timer ready on my phone to twenty minutes. This was the goal, but before I pressed go, I opened up the left over bacon and threw it down on my baking tray, which I had covered in tin foil moments before. That went into the oven to sit out of the way while I prepared everything else.

I boiled some water in the kettle and put a sprinkling of water in a saucepan and flicked the power to the hob. The idea is to get the saucepan heated up a little before adding boiling water which makes the cooking pasta bit a little easier. Following that, I turned the knob on the oven and started the bacon.

After spending a few moments trying to figure out my passcode on my phone, I managed to start the clock ticking and added the pasta to the boiling water. A few moments later, I opened the packed of chicken and threw it straight into the frying pan and whacked up the heat.

The bacon was cooking lovely in the oven and the pasta was bubbling away nicely and so I attended the chicken, throwing in some of my favourite spices. The meal was cooking considerably well, but with another eleven minutes to go, I was constantly thinking whether I started too early.

I turned down the heat on both the pasta and the chicken, only a little, while I prepared the sauce and extras. The sliced ham was scrunched up and cut with a knife, before I chopped up some lettuce and left them both on a plate to the side. A pair of scissors tore open the top of the sauce sachet and joined 300ml of milk in a measuring jug – as instructed by the wonderful guide on the back of the sauce sachet, which for some reason, I had to refer to three times to make sure I was going it properly.

I blame tiredness.

After mixing the mixture, I turned up the heat a little on the chicken and added the sauce. There was three minutes left on the timer so I pulled the plate off the side and prepared myself to begin serving up.

A waiting colander in the sink caught the pasta as I threw the saucepan in that direction, while dragging the nearly burnt chicken off the heat. The timer began to alarm, increasing in volume after every ring.

I served half the pasta on the plate and pulled out the bacon, throwing the three rashers straight on top. I took the frying pan and served the chicken and the sauce together while adding some of the ham I had chopped. More pasta hit the plate and then to top it off, the lettuce.

It looked like a mess, but it sure was delicious.

And yes, I forgot about the cheese.