Monthly Archives: May 2013

Masterchef final tonight

I must admit I am quite embarrassingly excited about the Masterchef final tonight. For reasons I can’t quite fathom (probably to do with the fact I am a massive greedy chuffer- the only thing that keeps from obesity is my unusually tall stature for a woman. I ate one and a half roast dinners on Sunday) I literally never tire of this show. A highlight of this series for me was poor Larkin’s multiple souffle misdemeanours. I thought John Torode was going to shit his pants when a chocolate souffle made a spirited bid for freedom and ended up in  pieces on the floor. That is my favourite bit of these sort of shows: the inevitable “shit got dropped on the floor” dramatic zoom in. It happens at least once a series and it’s almost poetic in its bathos. Who isn’t familiar with the crushing  feeling of helplessly watching something they really want to eat or have worked hard on cooking making a swan dive towards the floor? Anyone who dropped an ice cream cone face down as a kid, and surely that must be everyone, will know that it is an unrivaled food-based tragedy.

I think what I love about it is it’s so camp. After all it is just dinner, no matter how delicious the food. They’re not curing cancer although you would never know it from the cornucopia of gurning histrionics on display… and that’s just the judges. A lot of contestants seem to lose their shiz worse than John Torode seeing an airborne souffle. My favourite ever contestant was a man from a few years back now, who in his first round invention test grated butter thinking it was cheese and presented a half eaten carrot on his final plate. Fucking up does not get funnier than that. He didn’t progress in the competition sadly.

Last night I realised I had another odd chef crush to add to Michel Roux Jr from the Professionals in Simon Rogan. He’s not conventionally hot, but I love a man with passion and dexterity. Maybe I’ll become a food groupie (a froupie, does that work? Not really. Ahem, best move along).

Tonight, I will be shocked if Natalie doesn’t win. I always root for the ladies in these shows as we are so under-respresented in the highest echelons of cooking. Where’s the female equivalent of RamseyBallbag face? But even disregarding my bias, Natalie is the best, most consistent contestant. Poor Larkin and Dale seemed to fall to bits in the finals week. So good luck to her, she deserves it.

What occasion calls for a moustache shaped sarnie?

While in the exotic climbs of Crystal Palace last weekend, I stumbled across an item in a gift shop that gave me pause for thought – a cutter to create sandwiches into three varying moustache shapes: The “Crustache”


I was bemused by this and had so many questions. Who’s it for, who would spend £6.99 it? Is there a call for moustache shaped sandwiches in South London? What occasion would warrant such a thing? Who thought it up and why? Was it just because it could be given a cute little punny name? Now, I had laughed over the “‘Stache Box”, a ceramic box in the shape of a ‘tache, and held it up to show my aunt, but when it came round to seeing The “Crustache” and its sister product, The “Munchstache” Cookie Cutter, I started to became unnerved. What’s with the moustache obsession? I’ve nothing against them, in fact I went on a date with a guy last year purely because I admired his moustache (this capricious and frankly silly selection process may be why internet dating didn’t work out for me. I had a good evening though, he was a funny guy. Maybe because of the moustache? By the way, he’s now starring in that ad for breakfast biscuits where he runs on a train in a pink dressing gown shouting “Sue!” I’m glad he’s doing well) and I think, along with men wearing dapper hats, that the art of top lip topiary should enjoy a renaissance in a non-ironic way. Why limit them to Movember? It must be quite fun to be able to continually change how you look with how you shave your facial hair. But yeah, I just don’t see why you would need sandwiches shaped like ‘taches. Maybe I’m just a sandwich purist and prefer mine crusts-on, regulation shape. Dainty food can do one. Take your whimsy and just give me the whole damn sarnie. And save yourself £6.99 in the process.