Like most folks I have my television passions. This year the Beeb's Masterchef has had me downing work tools and heading for the box for my 6.30pm half hour fix. When the credits roll it's time to get up and feed the dogs and make supper for the humans. But for those thirty minutes I am transfixed, and as we entered the semi-finals and now the finals, I have been hiding my head inside my t-shirt. T-shirt head-hiding moments included: faffing around as if there was all the time in the world to feed hordes of over-exercised squaddies; food delivered late to Tony Blair and Bertie Ahern; hoping that Hannah could produce chocolate wonders for some of the best chefs in the world (she did - it was amazing); gasping at the pompousness of Ben (it's all me, me, me and nothing for the person doing the eating, even if they are those afore-mentioned chefs); and shouting at Steven to think about TIMING!!! If Ben-I-know-techniques-but-can't-do-flavours wins it tonight I will throw pots and pans at the telly. Go Steven, and go, go, go Hannah!Stop Press! Brilliant, Steven - congrats. The TV is safe from flying kitchen equipment.
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2 comments:
Drat!!! I knew I should'nt have glanced down your post! I have the final recorded to watch. Although I guessed all along it would be Steven, The music that accompanied his bits over the last week has been the most rousing! That's my theory anyway!
It was a great piece of TV. I really enjoyed the early rounds seeing peoples concoctions and disasters!
Sorry Brom! Didn't mean to be a spoilsport.
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