Everyone has their own definition of luxury or extravagance. The list would be as diverse as the people: caviar, fine wine, fast sports cars, desert island holidays or the best seats at concerts.
This evening I had a childhood flashback. I decided to make a cake for my work colleagues (the rest of the evenings this week being somewhat full). I fished out a newish recipe I have made several times from a well known country magazine.
As I rooted around in my pantry for the ingredients, I found the box of glace cherries I had bought with a big grocery shop a few weeks ago. Now these little gems are my idea of luxury. As a kid, they were chopped up several times for cakes, never used whole. I distinctly remember nibbling a cup cake until only the centre piece remained, the chopped cherry perching on the top.
Tonight in a moment of wild abandon, I chopped the cherries just once, so that everyone will have the chance of a half cherry bite.
Now THAT is luxury.