Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Chef Off

You can’t switch on the telly at the moment without being greeted by some celebrity chef or another grinning from the screen with both hands shoved up a glazed fowl’s arse.

If it’s not Jamie Oliver spitting out details of a pukka chestnut jus recipe from between his botoxed tripe lips, its Ainsley Harriot singing the praises of gander sebacious gland oil, high on a pint and a half of Kovonia, with his giant bald head glistening beneath the studio lights like the sealed glans of a neutered giant.

As for Antony Worral Thompson’s stuffing, I can only hope that some time soon a gang of suitably unpleasant have-a-go heroes will see to it.

It’s not that I claim chapter-and-verse knowledge of all things festive and culinary, nor even that my appetite for recipes fresh and exciting has wilted in the mistletoe heat — I just wish all these celebrity chefs would bog off to a secret hideaway and cannibalize each other till only their mushroom hats remained.

Then, maybe we can have some serious telly in the run-up to Christmas, like hairstyling tips c/o Little Mix and Jeremy Clarkson drowning a hapless lesbian in a swimming pool full of his own froth...


Old Kitty said...

I'd keep Delia on telly. I like her!
Take care

fairyhedgehog said...

We've been watching Master Chef Australia. And enjoying it. I know.

Whirlochre said...

Old Kitty
I don't mid Delia on the telly — as long as she's attached with duct tape and wearing a bag over her head.

Figgy Hoggy
Can they cook in Australia?

stacy said...

Oh my. You are one serious chef, Whirl!

I'm somewhat partial to Gordon Ramsey for his Kitchen Nightmare series. He's actually trying to help people with that one.

Whirlochre said...

Did you know he uses the dimples on his chin as gravy boats?

stacy said...

No, but I'm not surprised.