LOOK, I admit it.

I'm no Martin Wishart or Heston Blumenthal. There's a touch of the Gordon Ramsay about me in the kitchen, but only in terms of the industrial language I employ when I cut/burn/scald/soak myself, a depressingly regular occurrence.

I stick religiously to the recipe when I'm handed the short cheese straw and it's my turn to cook dinner. It if says "serves 6-8" I'll make the full amount, even though there are only two of us. Messing about with the quantities might affect the cooking time for all I know. And if it says "stand for one hour" I won't dare to sit down.

However, there are limits. Take last Friday night, for example. I was late home, tired after a long shift, and decided to rustle up beans on toast. It was then that I noticed, for the first time, that Heinz helpfully provide cooking instructions on their tins. I quote: "Microwave: (850w) Microwave ovens vary. The following is a guide only. Empty contents into a microwavable container and cover. Heat on full power for 1 minute. Stir, then heat for a further 30 seconds. Check that product is hot before serving. Hob: Empty contents into saucepan and stir gently while heating. Do not boil."

There are, of course, various ponderables there. For a start, in the microwave section, it doesn't state what you should cover the container with. A tea towel? Oops, rather messy. A saucepan lid? Oops, rather dangerous. And for those keen on the hob option, shouldn't they define "heat gently" in a bit more detail? Is the process really supposed to take 20 minutes?

Not that I was that fazed, mind you. I've been able to cook baked beans since my student days, a skill acquired round about the time I passed my Pot Noodle exam (though I've never learned how to open the soy sauce sachet without squirting it over my shirt).

But the world is full of superfluous advice, from "may contain nuts" on a packet of peanuts, through "push to operate" on the packaging for a doorbell to "Warning: May cause drowsiness" on the label of a packet of Nytol.

There's an urban legend that says the packing for a Rowenta iron carried the instruction: "Do not iron clothes on body", but I wouldn't know anything about that. I'm not conscious of ever having purchased an iron, though we do own one. Maybe it came with the house.

l Footnote: that Friday-night supper did, in the end, prove problematic. Nowhere on the bread wrapping was there a recipe for toast.