I laughed, I cried, I vomited: New sexy history

History was never tougher than this. I can hear India Fisher reaching for the " Hey that's my line" special number, but the first thing went through my mind when I watched Dan Snow present the Medieval London part of BBC's Fithy Cities, was who did he cross to get this grotty, shitty, manky, mingning gig? My overwhelming feeling during most of the episode was nausea and a strange compulsion to make gagging noises  and squirm in my chair. Having watched other dirty cities programmes, I had something to compare this to,  as it happens the others played the filth as archaeology card and tried not to go for the gag reflex, Proff Snow on the other hand wants you to watch this with a sick bag inches from your face.  What is he telling us that we didn't already know? Well plenty, we knew our ancestors were vile disgusting things with little or no idea of hygiene, but  we knew that  long ago intellectually, in Filthy Cities Snow illustrates with copious clips of urine, runny poo and  puss infested wounds, just how unpleasant life in medieval London was. In case you were thinking  good thing you couldn't smell it Mietek, he's got on offer scratch and sniff cards for your enjoyment, honest, I couldn't make this up.

This commando history that seeks to gross you out, does have an agenda and it is still despite the smelly nature of the material, worth the watch. I suspect it's all part of a cunning plan by the boffins at the BBC to get boys watching more historical programming as well as being part of the social history movement that wants to literally stick your nose in it so you can understand the "real" history, of in this case, London. Seems we wallowed in streets so filled with waste (human and animal) that we needed special sandals fitted with lifts to rise above the mess. Several expressions that we take for granted come from this era, "Not taking shit from you" and variations on it, was literally a cry from neighbours who did not wish to have somebody else's poo diverted into their homes by less than kind spirits who seemed happy to find ever more creative ways to move the stuff along and away from their homes.  The rolls are filled with interesting and stomach churning stories of people building pipes, extending homes out as far as possible over the street and clogging water drains with  shit.

When it became obvious that people were not going to be moved by fines, the city Fathers found new ways to deal with the rising piles of excrement and the odours that went with it by inventing jobs that exist to this day. You may not recognize  Muck raker, Surveyor of the pavements and the Gong farmers (who cleaned cess pools and privies) but today they are the street sweepers, bin men and hardy souls who clean the  sewers. Proff Snow doesn't miss the opportunity to dunk a poor actor into chocolate syrup and mud, when he recreates the death of an early Gong farmer who passed away when he drowned in his own waste having fallen in during a bowel movement. Next stop Revolutionary Paris, If the London ep is anything to go by, Paris the smelliest city in Europe will be a laugh riot of humiliation for Dan Snow and for the more delicate of us, yet another hour during which we will ask ourselves, can the sight of poo, pee, rotting fish other food waste, maggots and animal entrails ever become "nothing special". Not for the feint of heart, but if you are not afraid of a lot of disgusting things each more repellent than the last, then Fithy Cities is for you.  As for Dan Snow, I hope he's a good boy from now on, that way Antie Beeb won't have to punish him for a good long while.

Moving onto a different kind of manky history, the BBC4 was kind enough to repeat the 2008 production of Fanny Hill starring the delectable Rebecca Night. Along with a collection of other talent well used to donning period costumes, this version made Diary of a Call Girl seem like a pale copy of the original. Full of lush period sets, clothes and sense of fantasy that populated the novels of Georgian England, this Fanny worked on a number of levels, not least of which the sexual level. The timing of this project coincides with looser rules when it comes to the portrayal of sexuality and the limits beyond which Mary Whitehouse would simply have never dreamed of. Secret Diary of a call girl starring Billie Piper goes out of it's way to shock, surprise and titillate while Fanny did the same without hardly trying... even if you were a 14 year old boy up past your bed time. But for an adult, even a most shy one who's "slept with a lady", Fanny was straightforward without being crude or insensitive, and yet the amount of exposed flesh and eroticism on display was enough to stir even the most somnabulant libido. The sanitized sometimes fantasy story of a simple country girl who moves to that London to make her way in the world, becomes an 18th century appeal to those who would otherwise condemn women to the poorhouse or the far worse fate of back alley street walker. It is as much attempt to sell a bit of salcious filth to  Georgians   as it is a crusading tome that wants to break down rigid morality that pretends there was nothing wrong with the set up of the day. Besides, Fanny Hill as a book was far more representative of the genuine feeling of people of the time, at least when the pastor wasn't looking, than any of the saccharine upper middle class books by girls about Mr Darcies.

If you prefer your history safe and without nudity or vomiting, Neil Oliver's History of Celtic Britain is the thing for you. So far We've visited the Bronze and Iron ages complete with spectacular artefacts and interesting speculation that I frankly wouldn't be too surprised to find out was true eventually. His assertion that Celtic people don't have a common linguistic heritage is utterly wrong as any anthropologist who's studied the cultures, architectures, traditions and words of the Slavic and early Irish and Scots peoples would tell you.  A paper published in Poland in the 1970's demonstrated a clear link between the Gaelic and old Slavic tongues in groups of root words they would have shared when the Celts dominated from Moscow to Dublin. As well, I question his loyalty to the whole Roman invasion of Britain that has been successfully challenged by both recent archaeology and a revisiting of certain texts. I bring this up as the next ep is precisely about that period of time. It's clear that like almost everywhere else in the Empire, the Romans were invited in by a client state and got involved in local affairs on the side of the people who go them to come in the first place. So much is known about those events now that to persist with the invasion story is ignoring the historical and archaeological record. It would of course be madness on my part to question the assertion that the effects of romanization on ancient Celtic Britain was anything less than rapid, lasting and dramatic, in as much as romanization had been taking place for at least 50 years before that. It remains to be seen just how Oliver handles the material and I refuse to criticise him any further before I see the programme. I have no doubt the rest of the series will as interesting as the first two eps and the style so far of mixing on site visits to locations normally closed to the public mixed with clips designed to show just how hard our Neil has worked, will continue to entertain and inform. In the Bronze age film we saw him enter a series of tunnels each narower than the last in a mine that was almost assuredly dug out by small children in places. Much of the material on display will be familiar to you if you've watched other such programmes, but it's the way the material presented and explained that shed new light on the very objects for you. Already a few accepted ideas present in the naming of the objects or the people excavated as far back as a century ago are being overturned through fresh eyes and the conclusions are painting a picture of a far less isolated or ignorant ancient Britain. Keep an open mind about some of the assertions, but do please watch this excellent series, it is helping lay the ground work for a deeper understanding of an age that till now was quite literally  held hostage by a few "trusted sources" that had not been challenged in a very long time.

If you've somehow missed Tony Robinson's crew since their return, Time Team  and the Time Team Specials are back with even more digs and special secrets. Remaining regular Time teams from the current series cover moats, mills and cannons, while the Specials are no less interesting with a visit to  find a key War of the Roses battlefield,  a super sized flame thrower from WW1 and a lost Roman Circus in Colchester. This year in addition to the usual suspects, we have a new member, Asian Raksha Dave who brings the same kind of enthusiasm and faith that sends Tony off wondering why he's the only one who seems to think the mud filled hole is just a mud filled hole and not an Iron age mill. 18 years and Time Team still has the same power to draw us in as ever.

We cannot forget our mates at Masterchef. Jaunty Roads and Gregg Wallace  have despite getting a new set, not compromised too much on the premise that has made the show a hit for so many years. This year's crop of hopefuls that are by now reduced to four,  but include a vegetarian that seems to cut herself every few minutes, is as interesting as it could be, considering they aren't being as exacting with ingredients and tests as they used to be. Having said that, famous caterers and chefs including both Michel Roux Jr and his father have made memorable appearances. If I was to pick a winner with only a few left standing , it would be the Italian Sara, but if I'm honest, I haven't been jazzed about regular Masterchef since Dhruv won the last time. That particular series was by far the best and was only eclipsed by Masterchef Pro. This crop is far from deserving of any of the accolades and prizes offered to others in past years, even the less than hapless celebs from last year seemed better equipped to deal with the situations at hand. So to summarize, we have an accident prone nervous vegetarian who rarely if ever is challenged on her lack of meat in most of her dishes, an American who experiments and thinks that peanut butter and jelly are a gourmet dish, a competent but dull Englishman who fires hot and cold and an Italian nurse who has the passion and the knowledge but not the skill to be let loose in a professional kitchen on a regular basis let alone write a cookbook. Hardly the stuff of legend, but it gets me through  the week.

Another culinary treat is the second series of Raymond Blanc's Kitchen secrets.  Like the last time, each recipe is a new set of skills and a series of recipes you cannot fail at if you follow the directions. What is particularly wonderful this time around is the array of treats I remember from my childhood. Much of what he does is traditional French but hardly exclusively French. Many of the pastries and puddings are familiar to Polish tastes and with the death of my Grandmother, lost to me till now. Do yourself a favour, if you are to watch but one cookery programme right now, make it this one. Your stomach will thank you and your guests will never again turn down an invitation. 

Lastly there was the fabulous and must watch Great British food revival. Sadly it's no longer on the iPlayer, but the brilliant recipes for breads, puddings, gnoci, pork, beef, mutton, apples and other things can be found here. The BBC chefs share their recipes in the hopes you too will pick up these sometimes long forgotten or neglected foods.

In case you been living under a rock, Doctor Who is coming back, make sure you are ready for Saturday 23rd of April at 6 pm!!!! on BBC One. For all the craic, not just Amy pond's, log onto the Doctor Who page for trailers and other clips to keep busy till the big day.

Happy telly and see you soon

A slightly sadder, slightly better place

Last post I told you how very deeply unhappy I was at the new offerings even from my beloved BBC. A few days on and some cleansing of the palette with a few old Doctor Whos and the World seems a better, albeit sadder place. A long time ago when I was a boy, I first watched Doctor Who on one of those stations that play entire stories in one go. What a brilliant way to find out about this treasure trove of brilliant stories, so so  monsters, sexy companions and stonking great secondary characters. My favourite such character aside from the appropriately loud and overacting Brian Blessed, was The Brigadier. I first met him when in "Robot", the freshly regenerated Doctor is aided by the best army that never existed....U.N.I.T. commanded by the terribly British, always loyal and best mate you could ever have, Brigadier Alistair Lethbridge Stewart. Eary on the morning of the 23rd of February, the actor who played the role over 170 times, died at his home in London. Nicholas Courtney crafted a character that has become every Who fan's favourite character bar none, unless of course they haven't watched the original run so cruelly interrupted in 1989. The Brigadier was a combination great big teddybear and father figure to every Doctor, companion and as I have found out from so many posts in Galli Base,  fandom. Nick Courtney never shrank away from the role or pretended it hadn't happened like some actors might have. Countless stories I've read where he joined people at their table during conventions and never tired of telling Doctor Who anecdotes to anybody he thought wanted to hear about it. You'd have to ask somebody else where Nicholas Courtney left off and the Brigadier started, but I suspect there are huge doses of Courtney in The Brigadier and that is why we love him so. He leaves a huge hole in the heart of every Doctor Who fan, and those of us who never met him in person are sadder still. We will always have the show, the tapes and the stories to keep us going, but he will be missed immensely by fans who have had to see yet another great contributor to the Who legend pass on. Rest in peace Brigadier, your job here is done. I strongly recommend you read Tom Baker's farewell too.

Not satisfied with taking away a great actor from amongst us, life further distracted us with the slow and bloody dissolve of Libya. I know I promised I wouldn't get hooked on this too, but what with my father having been to Tobruk and El Alamein with Monty, it was something we were going to have a hard time ignoring.  The stories of bravery and battle against insurmountable odds and the cost in lives so far means this revolution must succeed, as the price of failure is not something we would want to even consider. I've resorted to working around Libya coverage and the Cricket World Cup. Sadly missed the hugely impressive show by Pakistan today, but highlights show they are a team to watch. One hopes England don't take any more sides for granted, it could get almost as embarrassing as Australia's poor performance against Zimbabwe. I hear you asking what this has anything to do with the new programmes on BBC this week? Well nothing except that in between the news and the cricket, I had the good fortune to listen to the Cultdown collective podcast live from Gallicon 2011. Apart from loads of excellent reports about panels and goings on in the lobby and the amazing Tiki Dalek, our hosts informed us at the end, that a new costume drama would be starting Sunday night.

South Riding, a BBC drama in three parts, tells the story of rural Yorkshire in the deep dark days of the depression in the 1930's, as opposed to the one going on right now. Because they only have three hours to tell the whole story there's a whole lot action going on. The Lord's granddaughter and her da who's at least as messed up as her mam, the head mistress who is alone and hates all representations of the tory warmongers but is actually pinning for her husband who's life was wasted in the trenches of WW1. Then there's the town council composed of visionaries, a randy old preacher and the developer with a heart of gold. Can Sarah Burton clean up the school, can the walking basket case Midge Carne rise above the unwanted insanity from her genetics, will Lydia Holly climb her way out "the shacks"  to become the next great poet of the working classes? Never having read the novel I haven't a clue, but I can tell you this, I'm hooked. Part gothic novel part reformist propaganda serial, South Riding puts a human face on the unjust and unequal life of ordinary folk just prior to the end of the depression. With just enough drama, blackmail and social injustice to keep your inner historian and your dramatic serial craving in check. As in a previous review, yet again I choose to praise a young actress who is asked to play the deranged and deeply disturbed Midge, Katherine McGolpin manages to play a convincing disturbed girl where she could have overplayed it and been an overly dramatic Shakespearean caricature. While the Midge character is not the centre of the story, she is sufficiently interesting to compete with the far more normal Lydia whose only real ambition is to get out of the grinding poverty her family lives in. If any one group of people seems to be invisible, it's the farmer's daughters who compose most of the student population despite being the mainstream, they are played more as window dressing, albeit really good window dressing. Not complaining by any stretch of the imagination, Kiplington High is the driving force for the whole narrative and ties the various people in it up in the ultimate fate of the school and the community and needs to stand out as more than bricks and mortar. If that means making light of the student body, so be it.

Besides I can't blame the writer Andrew Davies for being so torn when he had to choose which parts of the story to highlight. Between the all star cast of character actors and actresses and the established names like Peter Firth, Penelope Wilton and John Henshaw, it's little wonder the classroom full of girls was treated as more of an amorphous blob than a cast with potential. If the next two instalments are as action packed and move along as quickly without loosing too much of the sense of the story, South Riding will be a joy to watch and surely far less empty and confusing than ITV's Wethuring Heights was. If you're looking for fun costume drama with lots of ooohs and ahhs, South Riding is what you need to fill the void left over after Lark Rise to Candlford  ended it's run after four series. My only question to BBC drama is, why only three eps?

Raymond Blanc returned on Monday night for a second series of his "Kitchen secrets". In a half hour of what could only be defined as cookery crack cocaine, Chef Blanc shows us 3 minutes moules marinières to die for. The rest of the shellfish dishes are all as intoxicating, and if you have basic cooking skills, not anywhere near as daunting as you would think. Unlike a certain cookery programme that started last week, inspired by Raymond Blanc, I am checking the state of the treasury and planning a seafood extravaganza for as soon as I can clear an evening for the time it'll take to eat and wallow in this delectable bounty of the sea. Kitchen secrets series two is a gift in 8 parts, the next one being Cakes and Pastries. Take the time to record these master classes in fine cooking so you too can impress. You may not dress a plate like a Michelin chef, but if you follow the instructions, there is no reason you can't be eating like one.

On the subject of "that other cookery show", Master Chef plebs version , ran episode three in which we were told "Today's culling is going to be ferocious!". And Greg Wallace was right, what he didn't reckon on was the culling was in his stomach should he eat all that was on offer. We had raw spuds, cling film in poached egg, flat Yorkshire pudding and seriously underdone fish.  Vegetarian Jackie impressed me with her Thai dish that included shrimps, I certainly hope she continues like this if she hopes to win Masterchef. The new kitchen stadium wasn't at all as bad as I thought it would be and the notion of frying up an omelette was quickly dismissed. John, Gregg, have you been reading my notes???? Yes the secret ingredient was in fact egg, but they had to use the egg in innovative and original ways. In other words.... cook normally.  You had the usual pastas, batters and mayo as well as a lovely pudding of custard and meringue made from egg whites and egg yolks. Clearly not the dumbed down US version some of us had feared. And yet it wasn't entirely removed from the x factor histrionics. We found out one contestant wanted to do this for her father by cooking his favourite....roast beef. One hopes it wasn't the roast beef that killed him or else John and Gregg are in deep trouble. (Search for my standard apology if you think I have just been insensitive and cruel).

WI snoot Amy Willcock

The normal standards of Masterchef seem to have survived, They selected 5 hopefuls to cook Sunday dinner roast and judged them with the help of WI snoot Amy Willcock. At least we know the indigestion and poisonings will have been limited to the first three eps.  However it must be noted that WI Amy displayed a more than slightly condescending tone when cute young oriental cook Elizabeth subbed out spuds for taro. Amy came as close to being apoplectic with discomfort as I'd ever seen her and in the process caused me to question her integrity and palette. Apart from that, the tears and the emotion over some pretty basic cooking was sometimes so overwrought you had no choice but to laugh. How some of the school boy errors could be blamed on nerves is beyond me, but if I must get my jollies from dropped pans and unfortunate combinations of bland food, why not have fun with it. It's not like I'm going to learn anything from THIS lot. The final 12 seem on the surface to have at least some cooking instincts that should produce a few laughs and won't kill our hosts. I do however have one complaint, the promised culling did not include Daleks, guillotines or firing squads, nor was there any attempt to get at least three of them to promise they would never ever again cook. So it's not Raymond Blanc, but it's not as bad I thought it would be. Tomorrow the 12 cook for ALL the Masterchef winners ever. Here's hoping the guests won't regret coming out to eat.

And on that bombshell I leave you to your cricket and Nicholas Courtney memorial reading.

What's that smell coming off my telly. Outcasts, Secret Diaries & Master Chef

Sometimes you just wish you didn't bother. This week was one of those times. After at least a fortnight, that's two weeks for those of you in the colonies, I was finally cured of  Egyptitis. However chuffed to bits I am for the people of Egypt and Tunisia and feel deeply the pain of the others still protesting, my reality came calling when I realized I had missed the well flogged and highly anticipated Outcasts on the BBC, Secret Diary of a Call girl on ITV with wor Billie Piper and Masterchef was finally returning with more foodie heaven. What a brilliant way to get back from all that life affirming people's revolution and watershed moments in your life stuff. So there I was all set with my chocies and cookies and big bowl of other assorted edibles to keep my hands busy.   

At first we eased our way into the iPlayer treasure trove of wonderfulness with a little nature programming. BBC's Natural World which  as best as I can figure, is designed to make you cry as early as possible before they tell you the dread situation the ( monkeys, tigers, Iraqi marshes etc...) are in, could be reversible if only we as a civilizations aren't complete gormless twats or greedy self indulgent yuppies. All that's missing is the web site where you can donate cash or volunteer help.   A tiger called broken tail, started the gut wrenching journey with the story of a dead tiger who's demise is expected to lead to more sanctuaries and the linking of said sanctuaries to the famous tiger highway. We then moved on to The chimps of the lost gorge, in which we find out that chimps are increasingly cut off from other chimps what with the shrinking jungles of Uganda, rounding the evening off the true story of Elsa the Lioness and the Miracle of the Iraqi marshes which were less tear inducing. Good thing too, as the tissue box was by now empty. These films are beautiful hour long compendia of misery and doom highlighting the knife's edge on which most of the "canary in a coal mine" animals and habitats are existing on. There are only so many tears one can cry and for my wife's sake if not my own, we switched to something more cheerful like budget cuts in review.

Now just because we watched the news channel near obsessively for what seemed like a month but was in fact 18 days,... that IS a long time isn't' it?  Does not mean we stopped watching the must see programmes like Top Gear, Qi XL and the one awards show where sweaty young boys and tone deaf 12 year old girls are not responsible for guiding billions of pounds in advertising and production money into cultural content. I'm talking of course about the film Baftas, having passed on the Brits as they haven't been relevant to me since the last year Bjork was given an award as incentive to show up and be weird for a few minutes.  Having James Corden present and Justin Bieber win best new comer, so I'm told, is enough to prove there is no intelligent life left in popular music. The Film Baftas were an oasis of  sanity and culture that helped me set my check list of films I hadn't yet seen, but must try to make time for.  What a novel idea, letting the industry types vote for what they consider the best of their craft. As for Top Gear, you can always play gaffe of the week, but sadly I'm immune to the sensitivity required to be a charter member of the Ofcom complaint writers guild. See I was born in an age when people still had a sense of humour,which of course is not to say I didn't enjoy the pin pushing done by presenters and guests alike in the last two weeks. These tempests in the tea pot aside, Top Gear is still as funny and as informative as it ever was. The fact that you cannot buy three identical classic cars ( that's auto mobiles not penises for all you Albanians) convertible BMW 325s to be precise, was a revelations. The sort of things people will do to and in a car over the years is to say the least, eye opening if not inducing hazmat suit wearing.  I sincerely hope the humour free stick in the muds who seem to take special joy in finding fault with Clarkson and co give it a rest. We can't all be so relentlessly dreary like they are. If we were, Cromwell might still be in power instead of being lumped in with other visionaries like Hitler and the Spanish Inquisition.

It's at this point I though maybe I should get around to watching all that quality I had missed in the last two or three weeks. Up first was the long awaited Outcasts. Word of advice, never get so pre sold on a programme that you'll be disappointed if they don't have fireworks shooting out their arses. Maybe if I had not been so starved of decent adult science fiction, I might have appreciated the more subtle characterisations of Outcasts, but as it is, I was too distracted by the one dimensional loonies and psycho killers who are dropped into the more delicate narrative like anvils onto a soufflé. First sledge hammer was the highly unhinged and unsympathetic Mitchell who decided not to murder all the ACs. Was it absolutely necessary to make a potentially interesting character who could challenge President Tate, into a barking mad killer who lives in place with a population of one? Having got rid of the only natural opponent to the established leader of New Australia, the writers introduce the vacant eyed even more stark raving mad Julius Berger. Besides casting an actor who's such a "Hitler's wet dream" as a Jew,  the forced nature of his rise in prominence and the fake religion he espouses is both unsettling and regrettable to me. His so called faith is forced and reminiscent of the sort of cult worship you only see in the truly lost, yet it is portrayed as mainstream. Berger is made to evolve far too quickly and his inclusion in the colony's power structure is so unrealistic that you feel like the production team added Berger in the last minute and had to alter entire sections of story to make him fit in. The other thing that truly and deeply annoys and bores me to tears about Outcasts is for the zillionth time we destroy the Earth in a Nuclear and ecological disaster. Maybe it's the fact that I'm just off a month of watching all of North Africa rise as one to dump it's dictators and tell the West to stop treating them like some kind of dispensable pawns who would otherwise impact on the greater self interest of the industrialists bankers and other greedy bastards that have led us to the brink of disaster in the name of profit and ideology, but I'm frankly tired of the End of the World is nigh stuff. How many more times must we use the same tired old premise of eradicating life on Earth to make so called adult science fiction. This was old hat when Space 1999, a far superior programme in my opinion, hit the airwaves in 1975. I fondly recall the lovely shape shifter Maya who gave a young man in the 70's some hope that not all aliens were ugly or evil. Several recent attempts in America and the UK have tread on this well beaten path with about as much success as Peter Andre at a Lesbian convention, and yet they persist in trying this route. At least when the Daleks took over the Earth you had the compelling and truly scary picture of Nazi Germany loosely disguised as emotion free killer pepper pots. In Outcasts, the people are boring, the town looks like Gazza city but without the spark of life even an under pressure population has. And precisely how will they maintain a series let alone a few if no new people will ever again show up?  To quote a mate, "Oh here come some more people we didn't tell you about last week". Even the ACs (clones) are a bit hard to swallow. We're led to believe they were exiled in the barren tech free hinterland for the last 5 years or more. So how is that Ruddy has such well groomed hair and perfectly maintained 5 o'clock shadow? It would be easy to buy into if I was told they were slightly less shambling zombies who don't age or rot, but they are humans of some kind. Even Ruddy's jeans are in better nick than mine after one year of wearing, clearly he's shopping at Harrod's or Maison Zombie by Gucci. So other than the sudden and unexplained re emergence of Earth, the sudden unexplained appearance of total strangers like on old Battlestar Galactica, sexy shape shifters (Space 1999) or actual indigenous inhabitants who have been on Carpathia for millennia, there is no way you can sustain this longer than a single series.

And if all that wasn't enough , the stories are a bit contrived. In the first ep it's painfully obvious from the first time that the arrivals will only land on Carpathian if they enjoy being plunging fireballs travelling at a few hundred miles an hour. At least the whale in Hitch Hikers Galaxy was funny.  You never once were given the sense that they might after all, make it. So why bother at all? In the last one I watched, Lilly the daughter of the security chief acts up in a way so petty and unreal that you wonder if the writers are themselves barely out of puberty. Surely there are more ways to annoy your mother than steal state secrets and give them to the only media outlet in the place. The DJ/drug dealer loosely based I guess on the radio man in Northern Exposure and Shane MacGowan if he'd still had his teeth and wasn't ugly, is hard to read and hard to care for. On the one hand he treats The Sex Pistols albums like the royal jewels  then in a scene of self pity breaks a record, then is made to cooperate when one of the ultra precious records is threatened with destruction.The other massive inconsistency is that somehow they have after 10 years on Carpathia managed not to adopt a single old fashioned way of doing things like in other subsistence communities. Not a candle or windmill to be seen, every home is so well equipped, you'd think you were in a modern suburb in Tokyo or Berlin. Everybody has the internet and perfect clear telly. Even at the main buildings, the lekky never once flickers or wavers like in real places just hanging on by their fingernails. It's not all bad news. If you like to watch in fits and starts, you'll like the Cass ( Satan in Ashes to Ashes) and Fleur (somebody must be Harry Potter fan) characters. These two  are really interesting and the only reason I bothered sticking with the show at all. I cannot find words that show the depth of disappointment I feel after having looked forward to this rubbish for so long. A brilliant, expensive cast is wasted on this badly written premise that seems to have been surgically altered by committee long before the filming started. Perhaps science fiction in the UK is doomed to be nothing more than a string of sitcoms in space and Doctor Who spin-offs.

Oh well, maybe Secret Diary of a Call Girl will satisfy my desire for semi entertaining telly, even if it is on ITV.  Here it comes.... credits rolling....... Shit, feck, damn.... Belle is going to run the agency for Stephanie, her ex madam is in jail and her ex madam's daughter Polly who knows not a thing  of her mother's business is stopping at Belle's for a while. Much hilarity ensues.  What for every series till now was a string of semi comic semi serious moments connected with our Billie taking her kit off for some soft core sex, has become a mixed up mess sitcom blended with looming tragedy from the clearly unhinged detective who is now stalking Belle. We're now so busy worrying about the psycho killer ( where have I seen this before?) that we don't have time to really see her and Ben work out if she'll stop being on the game and become a regular ubber wealthy Londoner or continue selling herself in private, as opposed to say becoming a trashy Katie Price whore with no decency or decorum. I'm sure Belle is shaved down there too but she won't talk about it with her children in the audience, But I digress...   We were promised "funnier" sex and a decent wrap up of the Belle story, but I never expected it to turn into Luther with the occasional stand in baps. It's bad when you take Billie Piper naked, sexy clothes, thrown in some great locations and the occasional bit of humour and still you find yourself wondering just how quickly the show will come to an end. The young actress playing the innocent daughter of the locked up Madam, is sexy, dresses sexy and  is clearly ready for some interesting stories involving actual men, but so far nothing. She's just eye candy that walks through scenes doing nothing to move the story along. Are you being served was more titillating in it's time and still managed to hold together as a programme at it's height. Clearly this last series of Diary is one series too far. ITV was hoping for one last kick at the can of the cash cow that is Billie Piper, but sadly it just doesn't work. The sex for a start is  contrived, I've seen better porn when the pizza man arrives or the secretary suddenly feels the need to work semi naked at her desk. As for the alleged comic interference of the various working girls, including the very S&M oriental woman, it's poorly placed and more often than not, formulaic. The Ben- Belle - Poppy (Lily James) triangle is left to lay there on the floor being trampled on by all the trollops, the bent psychotic DCI (Paul Nichols) and frankly pointless filler moments that serve only to pad out the already all too brief 22 minutes of actual programme. If Polly is supposed to be 14 or 15, I'm a Sunderland supporter. Much as I am pleased for the actress playing her, she's far too old and too sexy to be an innocent young thing that Ben can ignore. Sargent Psycho is so completely out of place that he jumps right past occasional danger to Hitchcock bad guy that is never comfortable in an alleged comedy.  Sex on British television has moved on past the 70's Oh Matron! Profumo style of teasing and the more casual full on short of penetration scenes, seen on other programmes, do sex far better than Secret Diary is doing in this last series. They should have gone for the real thing or stayed at the line they established last series. I'd like to say I'm going to watch the rest, but honestly it's not worth the time. Life is short and if you feel you need to fill it with this kind of televised mess over say going for a walk or reading a book or even oooo having sex with a real live lady, you are indeed a sad and lonely person. If however you are 14 and looking for cheap thrills, I recommend you look in your father's  hard drive under tax files 2002, the equally dull WIP15a33 or perhaps your older brother's smart phone for his ex girlfriend naked, much better pickings there.

Still no happiness in goggle box land, there's always Master Chef! Thousands of people have auditioned to be on MC and we'll be be bringing that down to the 20 we need for the series starting tonight. Oh Dear.... Then a stream of vaguely interesting "regular" folk and their families in the studio, are made to watch each other cook for 45 minutes until they meet John Torode and Gregg Wallace in the judges room. At least we're spared the full details of every auditionee's cooking, but still we get the full spectacle of nans, mams and bairns banging on about how it would mean the world if "insert name of desperate hapless amateur" got an apron. The then less than appetizing array of dishes served up for Jaunty Roads and Pudding boy to struggle with seems to go on for ever, punctuated by the occasional manufactured conflict over a perfectly fine plate of food. They then look for "interesting" see loonies and nutters, to included to round out things, meaning that the more traditional cooks who aren't 100%, get dropped and the experimental ones are passed through. The vegan woman who makes faces will be fun when she has to cook something that doesn't have roots attached to it. Having seen this stage of the American Master Chef last year, I can honestly say that as uninspiring as the food was at times, even the cat sick de-constructed trifle was still better than the endless mac and cheeses, mock Mexican , appalling deep fried southern food and not bouillabaisse on offer in the US version. What the UK version only hinted at but was in full flower in the US one, was the begging, crying, jumping and posturing we were spared. And yet it was still too much. We could have had more cooking and less maudlin reaction shots more at home on X factor than Master Chef. If I am to even choose one of these people to cheer for, I am hard pressed to find more than two who seem anywhere close to being good enough for Master Chef.  Just when did cooking become the new way out of the ghetto? Aside from a few laughs I had the expense of some truly awful cooks, I can't say this was the Master Chef I was expecting. I wanted skill on display, I wanted invention tests that took the cook out of his or her comfort zone from the start, I wanted some exceptional candidates. Instead we got 25 year mum from Reading who cries, Gastro pub Pete who serves raw fish, Scary Cockney James, who was on the verge of talking about a "field of ponies" and selling himself that much, Miss Swansea Alice, Nutter Mark with his tofu fish and chips and some guy named Dan who may be the only one who knows how to cook. The number of recipes nicked from celeb chef cookbooks and last years Master Chef Pro was awe inspiring. One of the plates looked like it had been copied badly hundreds of times since they saw it first last year ( boules de Berlin in case you were wondering).

Next week we get the competition well and truly under way when the 20 persons they mostly scraped off the back of a spatula, enter the big kitchen stadium. What are they going to do, hide a sniper in the rafter or maybe operate trap doors whenever some chef wanabe nicks yet another recipe from Jamie Oliver or Gordon Ramsay? Oh look she's wrapping everything in bacon!  Shoot her quick before it catches on. There's another doing bloody fish and chips AGAIN!!! Oh No Chirizo sausage, cos there is no other kind,  BANG.  Gregg I don't do puddings  ZZZAPPPPPP. Burned to a crisp meat.... EXTERMINATE!!! I'll be doing a new twist on roast beef and butter chicken....Death's too good for them! Even the level of skill on display in Celebrity Master Chef with Dick Strawbridge and horrid Tory hostess was better than this lot. I've set my expectations to yeah sure for next week, but will not be surprised if the level of quality just doesn't get any tougher than this. Gregg and John will be hard pressed to find a top 5 anywhere near good enough keep us interested well into the finals. The new format has sacrificed all the elements that kept us foodies glued to our screens from the first candidate to the last plate of food. It may have worked in Australia and the American version was geared at the great unwashed who as always, wanted to see equal doses of pathos and the great culinary traditions (such as they are) of the deep South yet again prevail over anything that passes for food in New York. The new series of the revamped Master Chef UK is off to a bad start and looks to be on a collision course with foodies who will vote with their off switches just like when we stopped watching the fatally flawed The Restaurant. If it doesn't get better fast, I will be finding even more time to watch something else on BBC4 or maybe from my vast collection of unwatched recordings for "when I have time". Master Chef was the last refuge where the skilled went to become more skilled and provide viewers with enough thrills and information to insure their own food rose a notch or two. This new version owes more to Ready Steady Twat than it does Master Chef. I just hope Gregg and John are getting hazard pay for the food they are about to eat, I like them and want them to be around for the next proper Master Chef, you know the one after this mess.


To paraphrase Prince Charles, "The things I do for my readers". I don't want you, dear reader leaving this space totally down hearted, I can continue to recommend The Danish crime thriller The Killing on BBC4 and for the more historically minded, C4's Rome wasn't built in a day. In this fly on the wall documentary we follow a group of builders who use traditional Roman methods and materials to build a Roman villa for English Heritage. Much more interesting than you'd think and the final result is something you'll want to get in your car and visit.

It's cookery time again

Another night of iPlayer cookery fun. The great British bake off  and Gordon Ramsay's new best restaurants last night. Now I know not all of you consider 3 hours of food on the gogle box a thrill a minute telly, but I enjoy it immensely. My family certainly don't mind. Within a day of these things I'm the kitchen cooking my personal version of something I saw the night before.

Tonight I made mushroom and saffron risotto, because I can! tomorrow it's a chicken mushroom and leek pie. If we're lucky, there'll be enough pie to last us a few days.  Oh and a beef and barley soup from scratch.  Why do I mention these things? Am I boasting? Perhaps I want to torture some of you with food you can only buy from the frozen section. Honest truth?  Only a little bit. Mostly it's down to the knowledge that between myself and my wife, we can make the so called difficult dishes that pass for tests on the telly. Oh I haven't ever used suet in my life, but that doesn't mean I can't learn fast enough. We've come to the conclusion, while sharpening knives that were less cutting than an Oscar Wilde witicism, that just maybe we're beyond most of these cookery programmes and  it's time we took some classes. You know the feeling when you watch something and you're miles ahead of the presenter or reacting in the exact  same way as the expert? That's us these days. While I apprciate the fact that not all of us are on the same level at the same time, surely it's time the likes of Raymond Blanc and the cursing Scot were unleashed in some truly advanced cookery programmes. Blanc teased us with some secrets last Spring, but since then it's the same old same old.

Speaking of which, watched episodes 4 and 5 of the Great British Bake Off. That would be puddings and pastry. the remaining contestants without exception, get on my tit. Even the nice boy from Yorkshire is annoying. These contestants seem to revel in making as many base errors as possible. Posh southern lady thinks rules are for wimps, bald Ljunberg look alike flies by the seat of his pants, polite Asian lady is pretending to be 6th gen Norman and mostly ignores her Asian roots, Salford lady, one of two truly gifted bakers, is too afraid of her own talent, and accountant glasses boy ... it was baking or becoming a Lion tamer that kept him from going barking mad. So why do I watch? Simples as the Meercat would say, it's a personal competition to see if the challenges would make me break a sweat or not. The level of expertise required to complete the tasks is nothing to take lightly, but we're both up to it. If anything, simple basic mistakes we haven't made in years were routinely cropping up. Like what I hear you ask..... Well I'll tell you. Pie for example, you pre bake your pie bottoms for a few minutes ( 10 to 15 minutes depending) before you fill them. This avoids the old bogey man of the soggy bottom. But did these people do that? Of course not. They were all sweating till the last second never sure if the pie turned out well or not. Some were lucky  some were not. Had they taken the obvious step earlier on, there would have been no worry. Oh and minor complaint , but still worth noting, why did somebody present a history of puddings if she wasn't prepared to try the food from beginning to end? Hardly a ringing endorsement for her pallet. I'm supposed to trust her opinion on interesting and innovative combinations? Another thing, if those were Cornish pasties, I'm a Sunderland supporter. I watched the Hairy Bikers in Cornwall earlier in the year and they did it much better.

I will stick it out till the end as the presenters on the whole seems to know what they're doing. And despite my criticism, it's a friendly reminder that I may have neglected certain recipes. In fact I promise here and now to make a proper New York Deli cheese cake next week as my sponge is that tasty and light. In addition, it's been donkeys since I made a quiche Lorraine. Winter is coming and it's time to fill the freezer with tasty things we can eat later on.  Perhaps even a meringue that I'll whip by hand. I do consider myself lucky in one regard, my lovely wife affords me the opportunity to prepare feasts for her Holydays and she looks forward to mine. Between us we cover the gamut from Passover to Christmas with resulting occasions for mounds of Polish food to strain the molecular stability of our dinning table. Most recently Rosh Hashana ( a belated L'shana Tova to our Jewish friends) saw home made gefilte fish that was declared the best some had had in years. Particularly proud of that as it tasted the same as the deli stuff we used to get from the kosher counter years ago. Barscz or beet soup was another triumph that had us eschewing the jarred stuff from now on. As good as my Babcia's it was, and that's saying a lot. Next time the uszka ( mushroom filled dumpling you have with the soup) get made as well, but that will wait for Wigilia ( Christmas Eve) the most important meal in the Polish calendar outside of Easter Sunday. Those of you wondering if the food for Catholic and Jewish feast days is somehow different if you're Polish? Nope, as near as identical as to make no difference. The dates for the major occasions differ, but the food and the meanings are the same. These fine Polish dishes only find small echoes in UK cookery, but being a hearty northern cuisine, you find a lot of close relatives in Northern English cooking and baking. More on that in future blogs, 

Before I get carried away, Gordon Ramsay is back on C4 with what I fully expect to be an exciting new series of Ramsay's Best Restaurant. Last night was Italian night. Traditional cooking v Heston foam and dry ice . While the traditional restaurant had continued troubles with front of house, the Italian Hestons with a Michelin Star wowed a panel of cognoscenti and took the Italian title. While it may be a nice nod to an innovative take on Italian, as a relatively normal dinner, I would not choose to regularly drop large sums of money to see steam come out my wife's nostrils. If I'm tired of cooking, I want a nice lasagna, chicken alfredo or veal parmigiana.  I appreciate that Gordon Ramsay is trying to represent the  sometimes uncultured tastes of the average white Norman person raised on " not too much spice please". But I hope he allows for genuine ethnic cooking to rise and shine above the toned down "acceptable" chicken tiki places. Last night's ep was outstanding for one particular reason, the restaurants were both on a level of professionalism that led to greater expectations than anything you would get in a bog standard spag bol place. The first chef frankly was head an shoulders above the wet behind the ears lads flash freezing peas. He commanded his kitchen while holding the  respect of his sous chefs. A pity his waiters were more interested in big tips and less interested selling the full range of items on offer any given night.And how sweet is that gig if you're a GR coach party special dinner or even a secret tester. You get to be a bit of  prat and get paid to eat some truly outstanding food. I'll let you know when I find out just how you sign up for this kind of jury duty.

As good as Gordon gets up to at home, his latest US venture.... Master Chef USA, was a disappointment in sooo many ways. Most importantly, his final 2 hour special that crowned a frankly amateurish and pedestrian Southern girl as winner. The final featured recipes that Jaunty Road and Greg Wallace would have rejected in the quarter final stages as too simple or too flawed. Basic errors like potential raw chicken ( unchecked but still served) by the eventual winner and overcooking of simple dishes in the grand final were enough to make you feel bad for Gordon, who was sat there looking like he might not be able to find the strength to pretend that these 4 people were anywhere near as good as any of the top 10 finalist of the last UK Master Chef. Even Celebrity Master Chef  had more challenging dishes and better cooking than these four so called finalists were able to produce. Simply put, I would rather eat anything cooked by people who had to serve royalty and the WI to win, than this bunch who had only to impress two judges with no taste buds and Gordon Ramsay. If this is the future of Master Chef UK, then I'm not sure I'll be watching.

BTW, a massive thank you to Ivica Slavikova fans, you keep coming back every time that advert runs. Is it the peas or the way she says "Purr-verse"?  

Next blog will have the long promised top 10 baking tools we can't live without, and if I ask my wife real nice, one of her best cakes you to can try yourself at home. As always, this blog written to the tune of BBC Radio Newcastle's Beat Surrender. Great show Nick, nice to hear some new songs in the line up. Thanks for getting me through blog post number 42. Indeed food should be the answer to Life the Universe and Everything.

What o.s. does it use? Windows Vista. WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!

I suspected, but never thought there would be a day a software joke on telly would be so funny. Even years from now, Vista will never recover even the shred of dignity it may have had in the UK after this bit of comedy gold. Nearly burst a gut watching the scene with the bomb disposal unit and the super geek Moss discussing technical support in the middle of a crime scene. The IT crowd continues to please now well into it's 5th series. It may not be for those who view computers with deep distrust and trepidation, but even if you don't know your ram from your rom, you will at some point find the programme funny. But if you are a plastic pocket protecting accessorized person wearing soda bottle bottoms for specs in your heart of hearts, I dare say there isn't an ep from series1 part 1 to the latest , where you won't get sucked into the latest bizarre discussion or dilemma  these tech trolls come up with. Katherine Parkinson ( Jen), who shines in Doc Martin, and here, does the brilliant innocent  who manages to keep a job in IT and a computer riddled with viruses both going. It also doesn't hurt she's not ugly, a pretty ginge, who knew? While I'm far from versed in the dark arts like Roy and Moss, I have a network of friends who would not be unwelcome in that small world and my own skill keeps our laptops from crashing from all but the worst of updates. What I do enjoy is the notion any of this can be funny. A propos of nothing, the lappies are going Windows 7 on Monday, the Acer as XP will no longer be supported and the Sony because it's got the dreaded Vista. God forbid I should be at a bomb site and asked to control a robot with a Vista addled comp!!!

Last week I was praising some of the efforts I had missed during the world cup. I sadly have some minor criticism for Mongrels. The latest ep featured a visiting French character, what a disappointment  it was to see the hash made of this poor french cousin. He spent the entire episode saying "merde" loudly over and over again. Completely unbelievable, his shtick wore thin within seconds and the story became a massive 15 minute hole around which the deranged pigeon attempted to create new species of evil fox bird. Even the weekly song got interrupted seconds in. Seems to me somebody wasn't able to finish the script in time and just shot it as is. I hope it's not the first sign of fatal weakness in an otherwise excellent run so far. Looking forward to the next installment, fingers crossed this last one was just a temporary aberration.

Celebrity Masterchef, the closest thing I'll get to food porn for now, is back at it. Celebrity cookery telly was never interestinger than this , and finding celebrities was never tougher than this.  If you're watching , you'll already know. If you're not, it's a series of B and C listers last seen telling Digital Spy just how much they love Coronation Street or Doctor Who and how they'd be ever so chuffed to be on.  Me and all.  And just how hard has is it been  to find contestants? Being a massive fan of Masterchef all I can say is the current crop of celebs , most of whom I struggled to remember or care about, mostly acquitted themselves pretty well in the challenges so far. One served raw chicken and uncooked veg, the other lightly grilled liver long enough to brown  but otherwise remain incredibly fresh from the pack. Neil Stuke is the only contestant who seems capable so far of going all the way. His work has been of a standard worthy of regular Masterchef and the WI test proved from the comments, that this edition is a bit weak on cookery. I myself if forced to make something, would have a tough time throwing something together that wouldn't need tweaking. My own recipes I do with my eyes closed or hands tied behind my back would taste better if I did indeed see the ingredients or could handle them, that said, properly put together, they are very tasty. Are they good enough for Masterchef? I know my risotto is highly praised as are my sauces, but my presentation would definitively be lacking. I don't heap my fish on top of some shredded veg, I don't make poncy "jus" to drop on the side artistically. I will never ever be a telly chef. But I can promise you this, you will like my cooking if you like Polish, British and Mediterranean cooking. If I'm ever asked to go on, I would gladly go on and not be too ashamed of the effort.  Is Celebrity Masterchef  classic cookery porn? No It's more like the To Gear eps where the star in car is some radio 6 dj who cycles to work and hates meat eaters. I'll watch as it's the only thing on at the minute, and it's not ready steady twat.

Earlier this week on BBC Radio Newcastle a lady in her role of some sort of social maven came on and talked about the 5 most useless kitchen gadgets. While I cannot and will not presume to live her life and have her preferences, for her to say the pasta making machine is useless, is going to far. We used it weekly, everything from ravioli to regular pasta noodles come out if it and get cooked in under 3 minutes instead of the the usual 12 minutes.  The pasta tastes better and is by a country mile superior to anything we have made with just a rolling pin and a knife. If you cook at home, really cook, you will come to love this device. Don't be put off by these weekend gourmets who are afraid of little bit of effort.

For the record, here are my top ten kitchen utensils.......

1- My extra large Jamie Oliver T fal "yes you can use metal on it" frying pan: We got this as a wedding present. When I say WE I mean me.  I do the bulk of the cooking in the house and so it falls to me to figure out what's for supper most days. This frying pan  has made more risotto and various forms of eggs than you can imagine. A day hasn't gone by when it hasn't been in use. It's done fish, it's toasted garam masala, it's sauted mushrooms, made bubble and squeak and even given birth to marinara sauce.  If I could be accused of having an extra marital affair with anything, it's that frying pan.

2- The mortar and pestle: From dry to wet , that thing gets a work out every other day. Herbs and spices are crushed and blended. Pastes from olives and other things have come out of it, and incredibly, after years of constant use, I have yet to tire of bashing things in it.  Some days I even take an extra minute to get a really good crush or pound out of it. You may ask me where the bodies are? They're in the mortar and pestle. Try it next time your neighbor, boss, person in authority etc... sends you over the edge. Saves you loads of time with a therapists.

3- The Cleaver: I learned to love the cleaver from now deceased ex father in law. He was a Chinese chef who used the cleaver like the all purpose device it is. He cut, he chopped, he cubed, he gathered and dropped things with it. He bashed garlic and gently but expertly cut chives and  onions. Chickens were de-boned, fat was trimmed and lamb separated into all sorts of useful cuts. I learned that to make sure it stayed sharp you needed to do two things, keep it sharpened often and dry it after washing right away. I never did inherit his cleaver, that went to somebody else. But I learned to appreciate one of the best tools ever made for the kitchen.

4- My fry cook spatula: The long thing that you can press with, pick up things and push them aside . Not quite as versatile as the cleaver, it does however reach into pans and small ovens to gather up large amounts of things. I also use it to smash garlic when I don't use the cleaver in preparation.

5- Wooden spoons: All sizes all sorts.... they don't conduct heat!!!!!! Have yet to be burned off one. They don't melt and they don't above all else get used for anything else but cooking.

6- The assorted sized ladles: Handy to serve or to transfer things without tipping over the entire pot, they are metal, easy to wash and won't melt if  I accidentally leave on the stove top.

7- The Pasta maker: This device has allowed us to make decent spaghetti, ravioli , lasagna and other types of noodles quickly and kept us busy working together. Pasta making can be a one person job, but it needn't be, When you do it with somebody you care for it's an opportunity for both of you to appreciate the food you make and have some pride in the end product. Like I said higher up, home made pasta cooks in three minutes not 12 .

8- My set of three massive cooking cauldrons: I got mine off various grans and aunts who've passed on or no longer cook in such quantities. They are useful for soups, cabbage rolls, sauces and blanching things en masse.

9- Our dough cutter: I say our, as my wife uses it in baking and I use it for everything else. It scrapes shmutz off the cutting board, clears grease and liquids quickly and of course cuts dough into the size balls you need.

10- Oh aye, my cutting boards.... have two, one for general work and a meat chopping block. Saves on table tops and shattered nerves. Wood only and clean them with a bit of lemon juice once in a while.

11- My wood cooking tongs: don't conduct heat and if you clean often, don't transfer flavours.

Clearly there's more, but where's the magimix you ask? I can tell you that no problem. It's in the closet collecting dust. Comes out for potato pancakes, that's it....... We also have a food mill and three hand operated meat grinders. Too much effort I hear you say? No, same effort, less noise, better food.

We love to cook and bake and it shows, instead of watching rubbish on telly, take an hour with your better half and cook or bake.  Amazing what you'll discover what you can do.

Next time .... the baking top ten list ......