What would you cook for Mary Berry?
'Mary Berry
and Claudia Winkleman are searching for the nation’s best home cooks for a new
BBC One series!'
Yes, any self-
And it got me thinking.
‘Why don’t you go on a TV cooking show, Dan? Like Master
Chef. You’d be good at that sort of thing.’
I mean, this is a question that gets put to me all the time and not just by the voices in my head.
Be it at the pub. At the local park. When I bump into people down the
supermarket in town. All the time.
I can picture them right now. Actually, I can picture him right now. Spotting me, thinking and
then shouting:
‘Look at him go. Shopping for ingredients and stuff. I
wonder what he is up to this time? What is he going to cook now? You know, he
should really go on TV, and cook on TV.’
“Hey Dan! Why don’t you apply for that new telly series wot
Mary Berry and that Claudia Winkleman are gonna be presenting on the BBC soon! Summink
like ‘Britain’s Best Cook’ it’s called. You’d be good at that!”
“`Oi, Dan! Where are you going? Think abaaht it. Berry,
Winkleman, you and your spag bol, they’d laaave it! Daaaaaan!?”
You might think that this is an unlikely scenario to happen but
seriously, it has happened. I have got quite a fan you see, from a recent tenure,
barbecuing at my local micropub, who just loved the burgers and sausages that I
flipped for him. He shall remain anonymous for the time being but to capture
the image, he is pretty much your Black Cabbie stereotype. Loud, opinionated
and loves to wear shorts and deck shoes, with no socks. But essentially, he is
friendly, warm and a good soul and he really wants me to be on TV. And every
time I bump into Dave (not his real name) he bangs on and on about it.
Bellowing at me, as I smile, retreat and dart into another aisle and straight
to the checkout.
 |
| Not Dave |
'Leave me alone Dave!’ I often whisper, nervously, as I run
out to the car park.
The problem is that I really am not sure that I could ever
put myself in the spotlight like that, subjecting myself to the immense
pressure of performing in front of the camera and knowing that the masses will
be watching my every move, on screen and afterwards. It is a big step to make
and you could comment on that format is all too prevalent. This competitive
cooking business. But look what it’s done for the likes of Nadiya Hussain, Thomasina
Miers and Tim Anderson. What a launch pad television can be. Sometimes, it
really can give you the chance to make it, finally, in food and spawn an
empire. The opportunity to write books, launch restaurants and develop a
unique line of meat cologne for the discerning gentleman. Grab a grand prize on
the box and the world could be your oyster.
I suppose the main barrier for me and with regards to Dave’s
proposition (which is really not his real name by the way) is what the hell
would I cook for Mary Berry; the doyenne of British baking, food and writing.
Not forgetting to mention face of a fine range of condiments and sauces, all of
which are now sadly defunct. I loved her hollandaise in jar and I miss it so.
Coming back to the challenge though, if Mary were to say,
accept an invitation to dinner party I was holding (it could happen) there
would definitely be some sleepless nights or weeks prior to the event.
I think to start, I would have to serve up something
quintessentially British that was also fairly light and easy. Something like
white crabmeat on toast, dressed in a dash of homemade mayonnaise, bit of
cayenne pepper, lemon, with some watercress on the side. That sounds like it
would be up her street, yes?
Then for mains, um, it would have to be something like roast
chicken. Lemon roast chicken, with tarragon and no….no, that’s too plain. Spicy
spatchcock chicken, marinated in curry powder, ginger and lime. Using similar
flavours to that Thai stir-fry chicken of hers. But this would be done on the
BBQ. Smoked maybe. That would update things a touch and move with the times.
She loves a BBQ too, I am sure. Yes, smoked spatchcock chicken, with fragrant
rice and an Asian slaw. Maybe I should put the chicken in a chicken brick. Mary
loves that too. It’s traditional. Spatchcock chicken, smoked in a chicken brick,
on the BBQ. Revolutionary.
And finally, for desserts, well, it would have to be cake,
wouldn’t it? A big cake, like a croquembouche. Which isn’t really a cake. More
like a series of small cakes, little balls of choux, all stuck together to make
a pointy mountain and to be splashed with chocolate and dotted with spun sugar.
And then decorated with hundreds and thousands and lots and lots of shiny
stars. No, wait, that would be over the top. I should do something understated
instead. A lemon drizzle cake. No. Victoria sponge! Yes, she loves a Victoria
sponge. But I bet she hasn’t seen a Victoria sponge…donkey. Yes, I will make
her a Victoria sponge donkey, life-size, to celebrate the Great British Seaside.
The focus will be Blackpool. And we will all wear kiss-me-quick hats as we dig
into it around the table. And she’ll be over the moon. That’s it. That is what
I am going to do. That is what is going to propel me into the final. This is
exactly the sort of thing I should be dreaming up if I were ever going to apply
for Britain’s Best Cook.
I am going to run this by Dave (seriously, it’s not his real
name) and see what he thinks. I am sure he will be behind me all the way.
But in the meantime, if you fancy applying for the show,
then drop an email to cooking@keofilms.com.
Applications close on October 31st.
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