One delicious takeaway treat ... and a big portion of packaging
Long ago, as a callow sub-editor on Cardiff’s evening paper, I watched in admiration as the Echo’s genial cartoonist, gren Jones, and its rascally feature writer, Dan o’neill, bagged a lifetime of free fry-ups.
They announced a monthly contest, to crown the city’s best chippie. Every lunch and dinner, gren and Dan feasted in a different fish bar, and put the bill on expenses. It was simple genius.
To a front-page fanfare, they announced their first winners, presenting them with a celebratory framed cartoon . . . then three days later, the food standards inspectors came calling and found rats. The shop was closed down. So was the contest.
Chef Tom Kerridge was better organised as he launched his search for the UK’s most delicious fish and chips, in The Best Of British Takeaways (BBC2). The trouble was, he was too efficient.
He picked three award-winning candidates: a family business from Yorkshire, a traditional seaside shop in Devon and a fancy gourmet restaurant at Camden Town in north London, which mixed its batter with ‘Ethiopian Berber herbs’ and the like.
The teams set up by the harbour wall in Brixham, Devon’s home of the trawlermen, where they were challenged to serve up seven perfect portions in record time.
The northern haddock beat the southern cod by a thin fin, with the Cockney pollock fried in Argentinian spices finishing a distant third.
That was it, competition over. Except that the show still had another 45 minutes to run.
What followed was all filler. This show was one quarter mouthwatering fish and chips, and the rest polystyrene packaging.
We heard unverified claims that cold fish in breadcrumbs, an East European Jewish speciality, was the inspiration for hot British fish in batter. Then we watched a fish auction, as the catch came off the trawlers packed in ice — but who was buying what for how much was not explained.
The producers devised a ridiculous round where our fryers had a box of fish and tried to lay them out on a table in order of freshness. It’s hard to see that game catching on at parties.
Then co-presenter Cherry Healey told us that fish and chips had won the war, and read out a letter from Winston Churchill to the fishing boat crews. Halfway through, she broke down, though her tears might have been due to the pong as this rotten format started to reek.
The crew of the sailing boat recreating Captain Bligh’s epic voyage across the Pacific were enjoying fish suppers at the start of Mutiny (C4), during shore leave in Vanuatu. The rest of the sailors were all for leaving Scouse troublemaker Chris on the island, but skipper Ant refused to dump him.
That cued up a frustrating hour of bickering, back-stabbing and whingeing, as Chris neglected to obey orders or even stay awake during his night watches. It seemed inexplicable, as Chris was an experienced sailor. Why was he on board, if he didn’t want to share the duties?
Finally, he demanded to jump ship, and we were reminded that the castaways weren’t really alone on the ocean, as a support boat swept in to collect Chris.
‘I’m like Fletcher Christian, and Ant is Captain Bligh,’ he crowed.
That explains it: without this charade, Channel 4 couldn’t have called the series Mutiny.
It felt like a set-up, and all the pretence at historical accuracy became a waste of time.
There’s nothing so fake as a reality show.