JA
For two nights running, I've watched Heston Blummenthal and his lispy tw
at of a co-chef try to reform our beloved Little Chef. And I'm just not getting it.
We start in the first part of the first programme. Baldy four-eyes tells us, informatively, about five times before the break that this programme is about "modernising" Little Chef. The fat bloke off the Nationwide advert with slightly greyer hair stars as the Managing Director, who's full of phrases which mean nothing, like "blue sky thinking" and "taste explosion", turning the hour into a long, long game of Bullsh*t Bingo.
All through the programme, Heston was painted as the grand hero, despite the fact that he came across essentially as poncey (as one diner remarked when faced with his Lapsang Suchong Scrambled Eggs with Smoked Salmon - the truckers' choice, of course), ignorant and intolerant (particularly his ar se crawling underlings, with their insensitive treatment of Michael, a stalwart of Little Chef for nearly 30 years), unimaginative (really, replicating dishes from his restaurant such as the ridiculous ice cream experience) and rude - particularly when pressing Nationwide Man for the GP figures (you're not a member of the team, Heston, you're just helping Little Chef, not managing the company).
Harry Hill's cousin did, however, slightly redeem himself in the second programme. Throughout the two nights, the core business model and target group of the restaurant had been thoroughly ignored and scoffed at by Blummenthal. When people turn up at the Little Chef, they want food that is quick, filling and what they've had for years. They aren't interested in innovations from The Fat Duck.
This Heston did attempt to crawl back towards by reintroducing a full breakfast to the menu - even if it was heavily sanitised. Ann, clearly Gran from Benidorm's cousin with working legs, incessantly reminded Heston of the need for beans, which the three Michelin-starred chef consistently ignored until she was proved right. Perhaps it's because poncey man was more used to methane coming from his mouth than his ar se.
The programme came to a climax when toys were thrown out of Heston's seashell-clad pram as it slowly dawned that BCTOLC was merely a marketing exercise for a dying company. How did he miss it? Perhaps he should have gone to Specsavers.
Worst of all, however, were his assistant chefs, one of whom looked like Jamie Oliver minus the Downs Syndrome and the other who largely resembled a penniless university student with hair styled by one of Little Chef's own griddle hoods. The pair of serial ar sewipes cruelly mocked long-serving Michael's methods of cooking, visibly upsetting him, and making the whole situation very uncomfortable for the viewer. I suppose when you've worked at Blummenthal's restaurant for so long you aren't used to seeing more than a few grams of rocket on a plate the size of Calcutta
Will I be watching tomorrow night? Of course I will. I'm now less interested in whether Heston's plan works, and more interested in seeing him shot down by Nationwide Man as the ponce he truly is. Despite his insistences that he's just a "normal guy" who didn't grow up on caviar or lobster, right now he's about as normal as Andrew Sachs is interesting.
I'd just like to know whether anyone else shares these opinions. What I thought would be a really good programme has become compulsive viewing for all the wrong reasons, and I left tonight feeling not quite the way I think Channel 4 thought I was supposed to feel.
Still, at least it's not Jamie Oliver. He'd really get on my ti ts.
We start in the first part of the first programme. Baldy four-eyes tells us, informatively, about five times before the break that this programme is about "modernising" Little Chef. The fat bloke off the Nationwide advert with slightly greyer hair stars as the Managing Director, who's full of phrases which mean nothing, like "blue sky thinking" and "taste explosion", turning the hour into a long, long game of Bullsh*t Bingo.
All through the programme, Heston was painted as the grand hero, despite the fact that he came across essentially as poncey (as one diner remarked when faced with his Lapsang Suchong Scrambled Eggs with Smoked Salmon - the truckers' choice, of course), ignorant and intolerant (particularly his ar se crawling underlings, with their insensitive treatment of Michael, a stalwart of Little Chef for nearly 30 years), unimaginative (really, replicating dishes from his restaurant such as the ridiculous ice cream experience) and rude - particularly when pressing Nationwide Man for the GP figures (you're not a member of the team, Heston, you're just helping Little Chef, not managing the company).
Harry Hill's cousin did, however, slightly redeem himself in the second programme. Throughout the two nights, the core business model and target group of the restaurant had been thoroughly ignored and scoffed at by Blummenthal. When people turn up at the Little Chef, they want food that is quick, filling and what they've had for years. They aren't interested in innovations from The Fat Duck.
This Heston did attempt to crawl back towards by reintroducing a full breakfast to the menu - even if it was heavily sanitised. Ann, clearly Gran from Benidorm's cousin with working legs, incessantly reminded Heston of the need for beans, which the three Michelin-starred chef consistently ignored until she was proved right. Perhaps it's because poncey man was more used to methane coming from his mouth than his ar se.
The programme came to a climax when toys were thrown out of Heston's seashell-clad pram as it slowly dawned that BCTOLC was merely a marketing exercise for a dying company. How did he miss it? Perhaps he should have gone to Specsavers.
Worst of all, however, were his assistant chefs, one of whom looked like Jamie Oliver minus the Downs Syndrome and the other who largely resembled a penniless university student with hair styled by one of Little Chef's own griddle hoods. The pair of serial ar sewipes cruelly mocked long-serving Michael's methods of cooking, visibly upsetting him, and making the whole situation very uncomfortable for the viewer. I suppose when you've worked at Blummenthal's restaurant for so long you aren't used to seeing more than a few grams of rocket on a plate the size of Calcutta
Will I be watching tomorrow night? Of course I will. I'm now less interested in whether Heston's plan works, and more interested in seeing him shot down by Nationwide Man as the ponce he truly is. Despite his insistences that he's just a "normal guy" who didn't grow up on caviar or lobster, right now he's about as normal as Andrew Sachs is interesting.
I'd just like to know whether anyone else shares these opinions. What I thought would be a really good programme has become compulsive viewing for all the wrong reasons, and I left tonight feeling not quite the way I think Channel 4 thought I was supposed to feel.
Still, at least it's not Jamie Oliver. He'd really get on my ti ts.