Forget stage school and years in rep, if you want to
fast-track a TV career buy a bag of spuds and call yourself a celebrity
chef. It doesn’t matter if you don’t know your potato dauphinoise from a
potato waffle. No-one watches Saturday Kitchen for the food; they’re
in it for the caricatures: Jamie the swollen-tongued radical Essex boy;
Heston the sinister science freak; cute Ching; prim Delia; slutty
Nigela; and Ramsey, the git.
It’s a crowded
kitchen but there’s room for more. How about a bald dwarf pancake chef
called Alan; a hyperactive hippie vegetarian of indistinct gender; or
Archie the world’s last living Somme veteran who recreates popular
dishes with tins of bully beef? All you need to do is find your
character and step onto the gravy train.
Naturally
it helps if you open a fashionably quirky restaurant in which you can
showcase challenging reinventions of culinary classics. Mine is called
The Fragrant Corpse and offers just two dishes: A Crown of Oysters,
which you eat off your dining partner's forehead using a miniature
spear; and Beef Sowesta, an entire cow wrapped in fluorescent yellow
weatherproof plastic.
It’s expensive, it’s exclusive, it doesn’t taste nice, but it’s got character. I’m expecting a call from the BBC any moment.
No comments:
Post a Comment