RTÉ has two ingredients... reality shows and its staff
CELEBRITY MASTERCHEF IRELAND
SUNDAY, RTÉ1, 9.30PM
IT is a truth universally acknowledged that if you watch any RTÉ programme f or any length of time, then you will come across someone who you’ve seen very recently on another RTÉ programme.
Whether it’s down to there being only a small pool of talent to draw from or a crushing lack of imagination on the part of Montrose’s creative sorts, your guess is as good as mine. It’s probably a bit of both.
Still and all, it felt a bit rich to have Gavin Duffy ( f amiliar to viewers of a well-known reality show) turning up in j ust the second episode of another reality show.
Nor did the Dragons’ Den judge and his wife Orlaith Carmody (a former news reporter on — you’re ahead of me here — RTÉ) seem grateful that their dinner party needs were being looked after by a group of enthusiastic amateurs supervised by two award-winning restaurateurs. ‘It’s daunting having seven people who are not chefs catering for you,’ sniffed Gavin, his comb-over making him l ook i ncreasingly l i ke a cross between Bobby Charlton and Rab C Nesbitt.
‘We still expect that they’ll come up trumps for us.’
So no pressure, then. The programme’s opening shot came from the grounds of an expansive estate in Drogheda, Co. Louth.
It was early morning and the judges had taken on the demeanour of particularly sadistic scoutmasters. ‘Morning, everybody!’ chirruped Nick Munier in the key of F sharp.
‘Morning,’ replied the sullenlooking contestants in B flat.
Meanwhile, Nick’s fellow judge Dylan McGrath was carefully eyeing up the troop to make sure their neckerchiefs were ironed and their woggles were in place.
The basic plot was that Gavvers and the missus were throwing ‘an exclusive summer dinner party using locally sourced ingredients’ for 16 guests from both home and abroad. The contestants were split into three groups and given two and a half hours to prepare each of the courses: crab salad, cider-glazed belly of pork and, for dessert, pannacotta.
Whether by accident or design, Ronan Keating’s f ormer wife Yvonne keeps on making observations that could easily apply to her doomed marriage.
Speaking about preparing the crab starter with athlete David Gillick (at least, I think that’s what she was talking about), she said: ‘My fear is that I’m going to make decisions that f urther down the line, or 20 minutes into it, I’m going to regret and it’ll be too late.’
And another one: ‘There is a little voice in the back of my mind saying, “What are you doing?” and it’s not saying it that politely.’
Meanwhile, Aengus Mac Grianna — correct, the RTÉ newsreader — told his team-mates that he would take charge of the meat part of the main course and they could l ook after the supporting elements.
First, he had to chop up some onions and was pretty sure they
wouldn’t make him cry. Dylan McGrath nearly did, though. Try as he might, Dylan just can’t help cutting up rough when someone isn’t delivering.
He lost the rag when Aengus looked like he was going to take at least eight full days to cook the pork. Grabbing a knife and pushing Aengus aside, he said: ‘Watch, I’ll do this with you.’
Suffice to say, Aengus wasn’t best pleased. To camera afterwards, he remarked pointedly: ‘When I’m cooking I like to give it my all, so that if people are around me I can’t concentrate in the same way. Any intrusion is an intrusion and that’s the way that I would look on it.’
Had he said that to Dylan’s face, of course, he probably would have gone home wearing a meat cleaver.
By general consent, the dessert dish prepared by Tracy Piggott ( RTÉ s ports presenter) and Kamal Ibrahim (National Lottery presenter on, er, RTÉ) was the worst received.
When it was announced that Kamal was getting the boot, he had the same look on his face as the judges did when they tasted his food. ‘Surprisingly, I’m more upset than I thought I would be,’ he admitted. ‘I’m gutted that I’m going. It’s too soon for me to go, I think, I’m just disappointed.’
One RTÉ presenter down, though, a few more still to go.