Excuse me - I think I’m going to be sick. The sheer number of food
and drink programmes on telly has finally caused sensory overload. And
the BBC is the worst offender, which suggests covert product placement
deals are being made in lieu of advertising.
The most palatable offering is Food and Drink - apart from that wine
woman who goes on about ’chocolate, petrol and a hint of barnyard’. Then
there’s dumbed-down Delia, with her recipes for toast. Any mention of
Ainsley Harriot should be avoided like boils. And slimy Gary Rhodes
clearly uses lard on his ridiculous bonce, if not in his cooking.
But the one who’s really got me ranting is super-smug Jamie ’Naked Chef’
Oliver. Those loud shirts. That mockney accent, peppered with early 90s
slang like ’wicked’, ’choice’ and - worst of all - ’pukka’. Who the hell
says ’pukka’ any more? Even his ’bish bash bosh’ cooking style is
carefully cultivated to match his ’endearingly’ laddish persona.
And who are all those meeja types he invites to his trendy Notting Hill
pad at the end of the programme? His agent must work overtime finding
In his column in The Times magazine, Jamie recently told us his
programme was listed under ’cult’ in Virgin Airlines’ inflight mag. As
far as I’m concerned, that was a typo.
Got something to rant about?
Call 0208-267 4702 or e-mail email@example.com.