By internet enthusiast Nancy Wilkes, who doesn’t understand what her grandson means, she’s making the right clicks

I CAN’T find Mary Berry anywhere. Her recipes, I mean. That book has been my Bible – albeit stained with jam which you wouldn’t do with the actual word of God – for years.

But do I need to find it when there’s the web? I booted up the PC, got out the laminated sheet with the passwords on and 27 minutes and 138 updates later, I was on. ‘Please Google’ – it costs nothing to be polite – ‘can I have Mrs Berry with jam xxx’.

Perhaps my punctuation was off. But a woman, writhing, covered in what looked like shop-bought jam? Not the Mary I knew, but perhaps money got tight after Bake-Off. 

Well then, pound cake. I clicked on a video with a comely girl promising her cake would be pounded, because Gen Z know nothing about grammar. If she did make the cake it was further in than I watched. And four men? She’s never heard the phrase ‘too many cooks’.

So I clicked on a delicate little bald boy, with very sensitive eyes, just to be away from her. Andrew Tate, his name is. Such a traditional, strong name. You can’t go wrong with an Andrew.

He was telling me women ought to make him a sandwich. Quite the feminist; in my day, if you gave a man a sandwich instead of a hot dinner he’d leave for the pub and not come back.

But even though he’s a progressive he made good sense. Old-fashioned values about women knowing their role, getting married and staying at home, like when Mrs Thatcher was prime minister.

He’s a lovely lad, not lost his innocence, spends all day playing war with his friends and having shiny cars, and I agree with him that high body counts are ridiculous. That’s why I like Vera but I can’t stick Midsomer Murders.

I’ll watch again, to see this Chad and Stacey he’s so excited about come round. Not sure about all the ‘cucks’ and ‘beta males’ though. I suppose calling names lets him feel he’s got back at the bullies.

I’ve started following Andy. I hope he post recipes. I know you’re not supposed to say ‘gay’ now but he has the look of a man who’d make a delectable spiced apple turnover.