My first column for the Guardian, in October 2014, was a one-pan-two-meals recipe. It was one of the first I learned after moving to Rome: simple, good and good-value Roman-style lentils. That is, lentils cooked with a harlequin soffritto of olive oil, onion, carrot, celery and a bay leaf, in just enough water that, by the end of cooking, the lentils are tender but not squidgy, with just a bit of broth. The suggestion was that half the lentils could be mixed with pasta thimbles (it is somewhere between a pasta dish and a soup, therefore eaten with a spoon), while the remaining lentils could be reheated, maybe a bit more water added, then topped with either sausages – pork or vegetarian – or a fried or poached egg.

Twenty years after moving here and almost 10 years after that first column (and film including my then three-year-old son), I still make what is affectionately known as “those damned lentils” at least once a month. In fact, there is a portion on the stove right now, waiting for more water, salt, chopped parsley and to be reheated and topped with a slice of whatever cheese is in the fridge. I am equally devoted to the slow-cooked white beans from 2016, which I generally serve with sausages on the first day and then as ribollita or some other beany soup the next.

Another one-pan-two-meals I make often is Yotam Ottolenghi’s fantastically tasty puy lentil and aubergine stew (pictured top), which I spread over two or three days by serving half on rice or couscous, and the other half on toast with a spoonful of creme fraiche. Thomasina Miers’ chilli con carne (above) and Melissa Thompson’s peanut and sweet potato stew are similarly extendable over two or three days, the first half with rice, the rest as filling for tacos. Or Italian flatbread piadina, which is wonderfully simple to make – a childish dough of flour, bicarb, water and oil, rolled into plate-sized circles, pricked with a fork, then cooked in a hot pan. They are also a great way to make a small amount of leftovers go a long way, because you need only a spoonful of whatever – lentil stew, chilli, peperonata – while the rest of the fold can be filled with salad, tomato and a spoonful of relish or pesto, which is another brilliant helpful substance. Make a double, even triple portion and keep it in a jar under a layer of olive oil or, better still, freeze pesto like ice cubes and pop out and defrost one per person to use with pasta.

As well as one-pan-two-meals, there is one-session-many-meals batch prepping: chopping, trimming, peeling or weighing out ingredients in advance. I was inspired recently by TV presenter and professional traveller Amar Latif, whose blindness requires him to find a time-saving solution: “I chop onions, garlic, ginger and chillies at the start of the week, and store them in plastic boxes in the fridge. So if I want to cook, I have everything ready.” I think this is brilliant advice, and this week I prepared a big bag of chopped onion, carrot and celery, which felt like the cooking equivalent of a head start for a lentil race. Such prep is also open-minded, because it can be used for any number of recipes. Although there will be no cooking today: I am off to reheat my lunch.

What I listened to | The Irish comedian Joanne McNally was Grace Dent’s guest on Comfort Eating last week. The two chat about chicken sandwiches, adoption, coffee cake, laughing at funerals, appetite Tourette’s and spag bol, moving between comedy, mental health and mayonnaise in such a way that it’s a tonic to listen to.

The best things I ate | Living in Rome with a Sicilian means I’m rarely warned not to mix fish and cheese. Quite the opposite. We ate three reminders of what good partners they make. The first was toast with melted scamorza (which is part of the stretched-curd family, along with mozzarella) topped with anchovies at a cheese and wine shop called Beppe. The second was the classic Roman dish of pasta with mussels and pecorino, at a trattoria called Cesare. And the third was a Sicilian dish we made at home: fillets of white fish with a breadcrumb, almond and parmesan crust.

Cooking the books | There was a huge cheer when Alex Jackson’s Frontières won best regional food cookbook at the recent Guild of Food Writers’ Awards. I’ve had this book since before publication, read and cooked with a critical eye, so can attest to its brilliant exploration of food both shaped by and transcending borders, and great recipes such as courgette gratin with cream and breadcrumbs, braised chicken with onions, and salmon with bright green sorrel sauce.

My best food find | My GP suggested that I eat more seeds, especially sunflower, fennel, flax and cumin. So I typed them all into Google and out came Ottolenghi’s version of the seed-filled Egyptian condiment dukkah (pictured above). I have adapted his recipe slightly by adding flax seeds and not toasting them, or the hazelnuts, fennel or sunflower seeds. The rest of the seeds and process is the same and the resulting mixture is fantastic on salad, rice, bread with bean paste and olive oil, and mixed into yoghurt with grated cucumber. Be warned, though, you always get a seed stuck between your two front teeth.