Jamie Oliver has got some explaining to do. On the cover of his new book, Jamie's Great Britain (above), he proudly cradles a dish of succulent roast beef, roast spuds and veg, while sitting before the Union Jack (Union Flag for the pedants out there). Hell, he's even wearing a matching shirt. There can be no doubt what the book, which accompanies the new series of the same name, is all about. British food.
So when this new series started last night, I watched with an expectant air of jingoistic excitement. Episode one, The East End and Essex. Marvellous, I thought, smacking my lips while awaiting Oliver's artistic take on pie and mash, fish and chips, jellied eel and shrimps. Er, what the fuck is this Vietnamese shit? Bang me? Hold on, she's smearing paté onto French bread...
Now don't get me wrong, we all know that British food, like its peoples, is an amalgamation of cultures from all over the globe, with far-flung ingredients and influences becoming staples of British cuisine. As Oliver seemed to gleefully point out (after obviously looking it up on Wikipedia), even something like the humble British pie started life in Egypt, before being brought to these isles by those pesky Romans. But this is the thing. It's now British, recognised the world over, and entrenched in our culture for centuries. It's about as British as they come, despite its North African heritage. After all, what is a purely British dish? Leeches and mud?
So yes, Vietnamese cooking may be becoming more prevalent in our society, but just because something is made in this country does not instantly make it British. If that is the case, then be done with the whole programme and just have loads of pasta recipes because there's loads of Italian restaurants on our high street. Of course you've got to show ethnic influences as part of British food, especially when covering the East End of London. Salt beef, for example, and how can you not include curry, which has evolved over time into a cuisine unrecognisable in India? But Vietnamese/French paté and pork sandwich? Come on...
Anyway, back to the programme. So Oliver tucked into his bang me (I never did catch what it was called), before some old Cockney granny conveniently turned up to have a taste. Now, I actually expected her head to explode Scanners-style after one bite of the spicy sarnie or to go off on some Alf Garnett rant about this "foreign muck", but she liked it. "Bloody lovely," she gummed, before Oliver quite bizarrely and unnecessarily translated it to the two Vietnamese women serving the dish. For one horrible moment, I thought he was going to say "Bruddy ruvery".
The programme rambled on, part autobiography (Oliver was conceived on Southend pier), part history lesson (fish and chips is Jewish. Yes, but no mention of the potatoes used to make the chips being brought to Britain along with tobacco and 12-speed racing bikes by Sir Walter Raleigh). There was no cohesion. Some hamburgers looked amazing. We learnt that not only are they not British (never!), but they're not even American (get out!). Apparently they came to the US from, and you'll never believe this, Germany! THE CLUE'S IN THE NAME, YOU CRETIN! There was something about Russia and Mongolia, but what was the point? If you're going to include hamburgers in a programme about British food, then why not kebabs? And before any of you point out that this a show about food in Great Britain, not Great British food – bollocks. It's not me sitting on the cover of whacking big book with a Sunday roast and the national flag.
Oliver did make a pie (hurray!) in a weird mobile shed, but it was one of those lazy pies without a bottom or sides, just stew and a pastry hat (boo!). He played the fruities in Southend in a pointless aside, then met a winkle-picker at work, which reminded me of a segment from Rick Stein's Food Heroes, but nowhere near as good – or honest. Oh look, there's that old Cockney woman again... oh no, it's his gran.
Oliver's food looks amazing (although I'm sure he's done that fish in a tinfoil bag thing before) and he is obviously brilliant at what he does (there'll be plenty of his recipes on this blog), but this first episode was a crashing disappointment. Flags at half mast.
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