Tag Archives: Celebrity Come Dine With Me

Celebrity Come Dine With Me: Footballers

Was this a wind up? Did I dream it? It was quite the strangest Come Dine With Me I’ve seen, and lord, there have been some odd shows and even odder contestants. The food was universally the worst I’ve ever seen. A horror show of bad cooking from men who clearly never cook (and with wives who are younger, slimmer and prettier than them). It was the day spaghetti bolognese (which even done well, makes any self-respecting Italian wince) died and went to hell.

The show kicked off with a naked, quite large, ex-footballer (Neil Ruddock) opening the door to John Fashanu, wearing a butchers’ apron and a smile. He had gone to some trouble to make a vinaigrette, (although pronouncing it was another thing altogether) to be served on avocado halves. Then he ignored it and just poured Sarson’s neat vinegar on instead. My mouth puckered up in pain involuntarily. Elizabeth David was turning on a spit in her grave.

But even in this crucible of food horrors, I learnt a few things, but none of them related to anything edible. John Fashanu is not, apparently, a very nice man. Bitchy about Ruddock’s increased girth since giving up playing the beautiful game. Full of himself for no apparent reason, with a belief in his cooking abilities not born out by his mediocre food. On his evening, he said he didn’t drink, but was sipping pudding wine in the kitchen, then he served room temperature white wine to his guests, then later, for no apparent reason, chilled red. Alice Through the Wine Merchant’s Looking Glass.

The amusing/ironic voiceover from Dave Lamb was superfluous for once. You just needed to watch and gawp. In the previous World Cup special, we’d seen the lives and homes of the immaculate and contemporary young WAGs (who admittedly couldn’t cook for toffee either, except when it was toffee from condensed milk). I hope they watched this and saw their future. Get yourselves a decent career is my advice. Watch Karren Brady and learn. Don’t hitch yourself to the career footballer bandwagon, else you too could end up housekeeper to one of this lot in twenty years time.

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Celebrity Come Dine With Me WAGs special

I loved watching the bitching, scheming and backbiting of Footballers’ Wives, and used to mock, with smug middle-class disdain, the bling-tastically tacky houses. But I didn’t really think they were supposed to be a realistic portrayal. After watching the WAGs special of Celebrity Come Dine With Me, I realise I was a little hasty. For sure, Nicola T’s house looks more normal, but then she’s married to a Division 2 player. But in the other houses, we got a pop-up television in the bedroom covered in plush purple velvet, corrugated iron 3D wallpaper and a vast Bond-esque fish tank. Fantastic.

And what made me smile most (for some reason) was the fancy shaped, white square tableware and accessories, such as dinky little matching jugs. You get these on MasterChef when they are testing if contestants know how to present posh food.

But here, what we got plonked in it from the acidic Jude was Angel Delight (‘Delice d’Ange’). It was supposed to have been white chocolate fondue, but that went into a hard sticky mess. Served with the ‘Delice’ were chopped up pieces of exotic fruits, like passion fruit (which she herself described as looking like snot) and physalis (‘sounds like syphilis doesn’t it?). I didn’t like Jude one bit. She seemed to possess a vastly over-inflated opinion of herself, and came across as bitchy, snobby and dishonest. She served up ‘papaya salad’ with her Thai fishcakes (pronounced ‘thigh’ by one of her guests) which was actually cucumber – then blatantly lied about it.

Shots from her Hello! wedding were blown up on the wall and the guests asked why she’d done it. “It was the most wonderful day of my life and I wanted to share it with the world!” I was looking for smoke emerging from her pants at that point.

Luckily, and it was a wise choice by the producer, ex-page 3 model and Celeb BB contestant, Nicola T, was also present. “If I did it, it would be for the money” she said. Nikki is an excellent under-cutter of lies and self-delusion. I loved that for her night she asked them all to dress as fairies, which Jude hated. Even better, I love it that she won.

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(Celebrity) Come Dine With Me: snakes alive!

I watched Celebrity Come Dine with Me last night and the civilian version today, and I’m starting to think I’m hallucinating about them. I know Kim Woodburn is a gigantically camp flirt with such a sharp tongue she can sometimes seem like the Red Queen in Alice in Wonderland, but did she really start drinking pink vodka out of a bottle in the Claire Sweeney’s house, smashed off her face? And this after talking about poo stripes on pants she’s cleaned?

It was her multiple and entirely unintelligible attempts to pronounce the word ‘mascarpone’ (‘mashcapooney’) that had me hiding behind a cushion gnawing on my own arm.

Her partner in grime on How Clean is Your House? Aggie MacKenzie has been on Celebrity Come Dine With Me before, cooking well and staying entirely coherent. Kim slagged Aggie off when she was on I’m a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here last year, which has led to me wondering what the real story of the relationship between those two is. Kim can be very rude. She was in the jungle and she was to Claire Sweeney last night. I thought Claire handled herself pretty well, all things considered. I’d have tipped her revolting looking sherry trifle over her head.

Kim’s food was impressive though. It was like something concocted by a Fanny Craddock after too many pink gins, no longer arsed to make anything fresh. Crazy seventies style chicken, all made out of packets and tins.  Cans of chicken soup for sauce. Tinned fruit, packet custard and sponges in the trifle. All served up in a ‘rented house’  which sadly took all the anticipation of her guests nosing into her knicker drawers out of the equation.

But Tom O Conner, despite his dreadful jokes, stole the night in terms of votes. Largely I think, because he’d not offended anyone, so his was the safe vote. It all goes to charity anyway of course, which makes it less personal.

But personal is very much how the civilian version can be, and it was horrible today. It had two of the most rude, graceless and unpleasant people I’ve ever seen on it plus a nice gentle guy, and a first night host who got horribly drunk (and I can’t blame her for that, given her guests). But bringing in her pet corn snake and putting it on the table with the dessert? That was just strange. Then it did a giant poo next to the pudding plate of the obnoxious guy. ‘Snakes only do that once a month’ she bleated, as if that made it acceptable. Barmy. 

Strangely they all decided to skip eating the creme caramel.

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