According to whoever writes the internet, the term “hangry” – hungry and angry – was coined in 2005. Well, whoever writes the internet didn’t grow up in my house. If they had, the term would have come into common use at least 20 years earlier.

My family in general is a personable bunch but a lack of food has the same effect on us all that gamma rays had on mild-mannered Dr Bruce Banner. Hulk angry, Hulk smash, Hulk start pointless arguments lacking logic or basic grammar.

At a rough estimate, 97 per cent of the squabbles in my family were started in that brief period before meals where we were all sat in close proximity to each other and weren’t eating.

I’d love to be able to claim I grew out of this familial trait, but no. All these years later and my wife carries snacks around with her, that she wordlessly hands to me when I become insufferable. Her patience is further tested by the fact that Hungry Me will express no thanks, but simply angrily wonder a) why I wasn’t furnished with this food earlier and b) why life is so unfair.

Ohio State University did a study into the phenomenon last year, and found that being hangry is a very real state: "Self-control of aggressive impulses requires energy, and much of this energy is provided by glucose derived from the food we eat." They also found that married couples are statistically more likely to fight just before meals, when their blood sugar is low.

All of which is a long-winded way of saying that it’s important that I eat at work – not just for sustenance but for the people around me. I’m sure all my colleagues would attest that in general being in my company is like sitting beside a babbling brook with a warm breeze blowing through your hair. But sitting beside Hungry Me is like being exposed to fibreglass insulation. And Hungry Me hates everybody and actively wishes ill on you.

All of this means I struggle when it comes to experimenting with food, and tend to be a creature of habit. Steve Jobs used to wear the same clothes every day so that he didn't waste RAM thinking about fashion and could concentrate on changing the world. I'm similarly boring in what I eat, but my aim is the slightly less lofty goal of not being an asshole.

I know what’s in my wraps (iceberg lettuce, grated red cheddar, jalapeno pepper relish and chorizo slices). I tend to gravitate toward the same options in the canteen. I will try new things, but not when I’m hungry or on the road to being hungry.

At home, first-time recipes will only be tried on days when time and pressure are not a factor. They will turn out poorly, but if they show promise they will be repeated and tweaked. Eventually they become canon and are left exactly as is. I also never taste things as I go. Why? Because that's basically cheating. Also Keith Floyd used to do that, and where's he now? Dead, that's where.

Speaking of celebrity chefs, I hate them all.

There's a special place in hell reserved for the person that first put the words "celebrity" and "chef" beside each other. I've seen one episode of Nigella Lawson's show and it was basically soft porn. I'm not even sure she had any food. And why does Jamie Oliver call himself the naked chef when he never seems to be naked or chefing, but is instead constantly telling poor people that they should eat more Italian food.

And the next time Gordon Ramsey shouts at some poor chef for undercooking something and then throws it in the bin, we as a species should rise up and beat him to death with a soufflé.

And as for the idea of a national newspaper having a month dedicated to food . . . hang on, I see what’s happened here. I’m starting to feel peckish. Best to sign off now . . .

Recipe for French Toast

“I went to a restaurant that serves ‘breakfast at any time’. So I ordered French Toast during the Renaissance.” - Stephen Wright

2 eggs
1/2 cup milk
1/6 teaspoon cinnamon (very precise)
1/2 teaspoon vanilla essence/ if using extract use only a drop or 2
3 teaspoons sugar
Whisk these together until smooth

You also need: Some good white bread, blueberries, bananas, maple syrup and greek yogurt

Dip the bread in the batter and fry on hot pan with lots of melted butter – 1 minute-ish on each side or until golden – serve with fruit and yogurt and a big drizzle of maple syrup.