That’s My Evenings Sorted…

Writing about

Hooray, the Beeb have put Masterchef on at a commuting friendly time.  I can get home, cook tea and still have time to watch – and the new series started yesterday.

Now, long-term readers will know that I have long cherished a crazed idea that I might be good enough to get into the first round (if I could learn to overcome my issues with fish and seafood)…  but this year, at least on the evidence of yesterday’s programme, the standard seems to have vaulted several levels.

I think that the final three yesterday might all have got through in different heats or in previous competitions.  I certainly wanted them to break the rules and puty all three through!

My heart went out to little Welsh Art student – he really did have a magic touch.  But after the barrister’s story about his father making him apply to the bar because he could always cook later I really felt that he had to go through.  And was it my imagination?  Or was there a touch of “so there” in his phone call to his dad?

And I suppose if I miss something there’s always the iPlayer….


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