Come Dine With Me?

Evening world.

I'm reaching the conclusion of a Bank Holiday weekend that's veered between partying at The Gherkin and lazing around watching DVDs.

I now find myself with a cup of fennel tea watching Come Dine With Me. (I know, I'm living the rock n roll dream. Oasis actually split because they look like a bunch of primary school teachers compared to my debauched antics)

I got to pondering why this cheaply formatted little programme has become such cult viewing. Everyone I know loves it, from my Mum to my friends.

Partly it has to be the people, usually at least half the dinner party guests are erring on the side of, well, bonkers. It makes you wonder whether people actually watch the programme before going on it. You're clearly going to get put in a group with annoying people who you have very little in common with. Great viewing though.

I love the descent throughout the week of awkward unfamiliarity to Dutch courage-induced "Do you know what? *hic* I think... You... Are ... Rude. And your food was rubbish."

It's entertaining watching strangers poke through someone else's house, the one I'm watching at the moment has a guy making a chocolate fondant for the first time, while his dinner guests discover the whip and policeman's hat in his wardrobe. The well to do Anglo-American property developer chips in, "I've seen far worse in people's cupboards". I bet you have.

It's barely even about the food. Even as an avid cook, the menus are a sideline for me. Though it does always amuse me that there's usually one who attempts some ridiculous combition of prawns and chocolate or something.

I think I'd like the job of the VoiceOver bloke. He gets to mock people for half an hour and exhibit explicit Schadenfraude. Ace.

I've been asked what I'd cook for my dinner party. Probably some tried and tested simple dishes for maximum tipsy time with the guests. Asparagus with lemon and pancetta to start, maybe a risotto after... By dessert I would be expecting a full on scrap to start so it'd be unimportant.

I was just thinking about whether any of the people actually keep in touch. Alison the simple housewife who bleaches her patio twice a day declared, "I never. Ever. Want to see any of these people again."

Bon appetit


-- Post From My iPhone