All over the country, people are taking advantage of the newly-relaxed lockdown laws to do that thing we do as a social species – eating together. Although it’s now possible to go to a restaurant or pub if we conform to some quite stringent rules, eating at home with friends and family seems to be a greater pleasure, liberated from constant reminders of the virus.

Last night Corner Cottage hosted a jolly gathering: Daniela, her good schoolfriend, her sister, her sister’s two daughters, and me. The more analytically agile will notice that the entire entourage except for me was female: it was reminiscent of when I was the only boy in the school choir at Tennyson Junior School, Bulawayo, 1976. “The only thorn among the roses,” people would beam, seemingly unaware of the obvious erotic connotations. It was a simpler time.

Less simple was that two of our number are vegan, one teetotal, and one under the legal drinking age. Undeterred, Daniela fired up the kitchen and seemingly without effort produced delicious spag bol in both meaty and meat-free variations, followed by sticky date pudding with caramel and vegan ice cream. Lubricated with several bottles of good red, this all went down very well (although I can’t speak for the teetotaller).

Add to this a roaring fire, a puppy snoozing and snuffling in front of it, and lively conversation, and we had the formula for the kind of evening we’ve been missing so much of late. We weren’t the only household doing this – social media shows a shoulder of lamb consumed by old friends in Brisbane, one of our boys roasting chicken in Sydney, and deliciousness coming out of kitchens in Milan, Melbourne and Mongarlowe.

But an interesting point came up as the wine was taking effect: our guest and her daughters had been bonding in the kitchen during lock-down. They’d signed up for a box subscription service that delivers fresh ingredients in just the right amounts to create the recipe they include in the package. The mother/daughter team found themselves on a kind of sorority assembly line as they talked through their day. It’s a happy image – a warm spot in the chill landscape of social distancing.

And in fact, the conversation over dinner was mainly about food. Of course, Daniela’s father was a chef and her niece is studying for a degree in dietary science. And we had organic veggies bedding down in the light drizzle not far from the kitchen window, as you know. It was all about recipes and nutrition and sustainability and healthy ways – even the antioxidant benefits of red wine were probed as we emptied a few bottles.

All this just goes to state the obvious: breaking bread together is one of those fundamental communal acts that define our humanity. The fire, the faithful hound, the food and wine – even the primitive scrawls on the wall: things as old as humankind itself. So there we were in our cave, sharing our lore, bonding over the preparation and consumption of nutritious foodstuffs. Social distancing has been so hard because it’s severed these deep social attachments – we’ve missed each other and the things we do to maintain our tribal bonds.

I’ve had worse Saturday nights – and better Sunday mornings too. That red wine seems a lot less beneficial in the cold light of day – but I think our social bonds are a little stronger.