Food Glorious Food

I caught a reality TV show called Three In A Bed the other night in which odd looking couples who run boarding houses compete to see who makes the best breakfast. This joins other current shows like Come Dine With Me in which odd looking people compete to see who makes the best dinner, and Sky News where odd looking anchors compete to see who makes the most cock ups.

But this new boarding house competition has given me an idea for a show. In a tense climax to my new format that will have the nation glued to its seats, odd looking owners of burger vans will have a play off on the M25 motorway to decide who makes the best fry up. It’s going to be called Burger Off.

If someone had told us even five years ago that TV would be as bad as it is today we would have laughed, but it seems there will always be an audience for food programmes, good or bad. I remember making a Delia Smith recipe from one of her shows years ago to impress a girlfriend and it was a disaster. Queen Delia was adding a “handful” of this and a “fistful” of that but, being a woman, her fists were smaller than mine so my dish exploded in the oven, and then in the mouth, like those starburst crystals kids eat.

The secret of a good dinner party for me is easy, and it’s not necessarily about good cooking. It’s simply having enough food to offer extra portions. I can just about play the game of listening to boring conversation and insipid background music, but if you don’t offer me more after I’ve cleaned my plate, then the night’s a write off. I am the Oliver of dinner parties.

One recent dinner at a friend’s house went really well and there were plenty of leftovers, but as soon as I was ready for more the hostess picked up the serving dishes saying she was off to feed the kids with them. Well pardon me, but if you’re having Coia round for dinner then feed your kids before he arrives or ask him to bring pizza. I don’t want to steal food from kids’ mouths, but it’s a two way thing and I don’t expect them to steal from mine.

Of course, one other secret to a great dinner party, apart from loads of food, is relaxing company. This week, chances are you’ll be having dinner at home with friends or family. If you’re lucky you’ll be wearing comfortable clothes, if you’re unlucky you might be wearing the leftovers thrown at you because you’re home late, but conversation won’t be strained and you can pick your teeth or lick your plate if you fancy.

I’m not sure I’ll be able to do that on Thursday.

I’m joining a select party of about twelve for dinner in a restaurant where plate licking will be frowned upon and teeth picking may lead to me being thrown out. But the real behaviour limiter will be the company. I’m having bread sticks and profiteroles with three members of the House of Lords, one former MP and London Mayor candidate, the head of the Arts Council and various senior television heads.

And I know you’re asking the same question as I am – why on earth is he being invited to a dinner like that? Do they want a bit of rough? Someone who can fill in if the waiter gets sick?

I’ll have to learn the etiquette of posh eating very quickly. I know not to speak with my mouth fulI, and I realise it’s not good form to say to the waiter “I’ll just use the same plate for all the courses – save on the washing up”. But what I desperately need to know is this. Is it ok to turn to a peer and say “if you’re not eating the rest of your steak Baroness, can I have it please?”

Now you see what a problematic life I have. But at least with the TV heads being there I can pitch the show Burger Off to them over the canapes. I’ll let you know how it goes.