Masterchef: The Professionals

There's nothing better than Masterchef for a little intrigue and oil splatters... and of course Gregg Wallace, the master of noisy eating.

It's the second last episode of this series and there are only four competitors left - Brian, Sven, Jamie and Danny - the boy band you have when your boy bands are all in whites, a little chubby and a bit geeky. With glasses and accents you can't understand. But, boy can they cook.

They're battling to go cook in Spain, so it's all on the line here... one of them won't make it.

Gregg and his henchmen Monica Galetti and Marcus Wareing are standing there looking foreboding.

Welcome back, Gregg says, in the most unwelcoming tone ever.

The music swells. It's like a death march.

"What you have to do right now", he tells the increasingly shifty and unhappy looking band members cooks, "is make us your best dish."

Derr.

They have two hours.

They all begin rolling things and dipping things and Thermomixing things. A step up from the amateurs on most cooking shows. They're frying things in butter at every turn.

"Chefs, you have one hour," says Greg. "Let's make sure it's not your last hour, shall we?" he says, somewhat menacingly. I can only hope he's talking about in the competition and not just generally...

Frantically pinching raviolis together with chubby fingers, Jamie tells us he had a little wobble at the chef's table. I'm not sure if that was a bad thing or not, but according to his face, yes it was.

Sven is piping something back into an egg shell.

Everyone adds another packet of butter to whatever they're cooking.

Brian has made rolled rabbit loin with a million things made from turnip and mushrooms. It looks amazing. The "rebbit", according to NZ chef Monica, was cooked perfectly. And Gregg loved it, too.

Sven has made a faberge egg. A faberge egg? It's covered in pasta. it's lobster mousse around a quail egg and langoustine and it looks like lego. They are in two minds about it - Monica and Gregg love it, Marcus thinks it's terrible. I'm with Marcus.

Danny has made poussin with panfried hearts and turnips and a consommé with chicken fat. Gregg says it gives you a kiss on the cheek when you want a snog. Danny says snog this, and punches Gregg*.

 *this may or may not have happened.

Poor old wobbly Jamie has made rabbit with livers, his finger-pinched pasta filled with braised shoulder, carrots and rabbit sauce with peas, capers and tarragon. Marcus nods at him as he takes a bite. Good sign.
Monica say when she eats his food she doesn't want to share it. Jamie smiles.
Gregg calls it one of the bet rabbit dishes he's ever tasted.
And then Marcus says if he was a rabbit, that is how he'd like to be cooked and served.

The RSPCA take the show off air.

Jamie's nearly crying. Oh no he IS crying. Bless. He's possibly thinking about all the little bunnies who want to be in his dinner now.

Danny gets the boot for his poorly seasoned poussin and his violence against Gregg. Maybe.

Jamie is delighted to go through and tells us something no one can understand but it has the word "massive" in it.

Now we're in San Sebastian in Spain. The culinary capital of Europe and the home of Mugaritz, the restaurant. Chef Adoni Luis Aduriz makes food we can only dream of, apparently, but worked with Ferran Adria at El Bulli and was inspired to make food that looks like art - illustrated for us here with vegetable tiles and berries made from bubbles of beetroot, plus edible stones make of potatoes covered in clay.

 Looks easy enough, boys.

Here they come in slow motion like a Westlife video. Jamie mentions something about something blah blah something... very... amazing, I think...


First up they have a masterclass with Adoni. They're making "decadence" - a dish with smoked cream and truffles with flowers complete with a sugar fork. A sugar fork, for crying out loud.  Then eucalyptus smoked lamb with cultivated mould. Yes. Mould. It's cultivated over two days and then the mould is put over it, like a "blanket" says Jamie. I assume.

Adoni writes a note saying "forget everything".  Which, given the intricacy of his dishes, seems a bit odd. But then Jamie goes out in the garden with Adoni's offsider and they have a conversation where I'm sure neither of them understands the other one. Forgetting may be good.

Then they have to create a dish inspired by what they've learned even though they were told to "forget everything". I'm worried.

Adoni smilingly says he's nervous. You're not the only one, Adoni.

Sven is making something with squid and peppers.

Brian has an ox heart tomato. He's not cooking it. He's infusing the flesh with lemon thyme and onion juice. My head is exploding a bit...

Jamie is using peaches and grilling them. He is planning to infuse them with spices. He's saying something about hoping Adoni likes it.

That is the whole point Jamie, glad you could join us.

Adoni and his offsider sit at a table  - he's looking like a mild mannered professor ready to go postal.

Sven is first  - a dip of red pepper and squid meringue. Sven is seemingly impressing Adoni with his dip. It's perfect, according to Adoni. It looks like a pebble topped with baby poo, says the rest of the world.

Forget everything indeed.

Next up, Brian is topping his tomato with a pickled fresh dahlia and some caviar. It looks amazing, like some kind of tuna dish. Adoni likes it. Double thumbs up. And a clap. Brian sits outside and sighs... raw food? And it worked? Wowser. Wouldn't get away with that in Aberdeen, he chortles.

Jamie's making a freeze dried yoghurt sorbet... he tells us about it but I'd be lying if i told you I got one word of it. Except at the end I hear, "let's hope it tastes as good as it looks!"

Each peach half has been spiced with green peppercorns and cloves and an assortment of other toppings including crumbled brioche.... it looks gorgeous. Adoni says he understand his restaurant too well. Jamie then proves he may have understood it but we will never understand him, by telling us how he feels. I think.

Next Adoni is letting them all cook for guests. The three chefs climb the stairs in unison. It's very moving. It's like watching people going to the gallows.

Sven is making a few things, including a ravioli filled with what looks like a garden. Adoni's offsider tells him to slow down, saying "make it nice, don't make it twice". Wise words indeed.

Brian is making something weird in a mortar and pestle that will involve the customer crushing it themselves. He's happy because it's not a lot of work. Finally he will make a colourless fish dish with milk pearls and white fish.

Jamie's making something with steak and blue cheese paste - he says something cute about liking cheese. I think I'm in love with Jamie. He then makes an apple juice pastry with pressed flowers in it. I love him a little more.

Service kicks off.  Must have missed the cod throat skin Sven is cooking. Feel a bit queasy.

Sven does well. Everyone loves his food.

He will remember Adoni wiping his plates forever, he says, somewhat weirdly.

Brian makes his tomato for his entree. Then plates up his weird mortar and pestle concoction. Gregg loves smashing his up, adding "a dish that is so much fun shouldn't taste as good as this." He's the master of the soundbite, old Gregg.

Brian has such a good time he's debating whether to come back for the final at all.

Now it's Jamie and no one knows what he's saying but he's caramelising the blue cheese steak so he's happy. It makes his audience ecstatic. Next he makes his peach dish with some added smoke for show, with a mandarin leaf for flavour. And lastly his hanky dish... in a box. It's a triumph.

Though seeing Gregg eating a wet looking hanky is not great television.

Adoni hugs him. Jamie says something poignant. Perhaps.

A little look back at their time and a threatening few words from Gregg - "I want to see them recreate all that in the final cook," he says, no pressure at all - and our boy band walk off into the distance, to prepare for the finale.

Gordon Ramsay's Ultimate Cookery

Gordon Ramsay says he's going to teach me to make amazing food standing on my head. Which is possibly against OH&S rules.

But here I am. Listening to his wisdom as he tells me he's going to be holding my hand, as "it gets better and better". I'm worried already.

This week it's simple suppers. He says they are the key. To what, I'm not sure.

Spicy Tuna Fishcakes are apparently going to change my life. Which isn't how I saw things panning out but I'm willing to be convinced, Gordon. He's convincing the laydeez by talking to us in Sexy Gordon voice. None of the shouty man we're used to on his other shows. This is a man who does the washing up AND offers a foot massage.

Canned tuna, ginger, water chestnuts.... all kind of sexualised by Gordon's whispering voice. It's not hot in the kitchen yet, but I do worry old Gordo is getting hot under his whites. He's massaging and slicing and inhaling it all like a Japanese businessman at one of those knicker machines.

Gordon adds his eggs and gets his hands in and yes, he groans. It's perturbing, but ok, they DO look good.

He's making a dipping sauce.

I'm not sure I am strong enough for this.

Next up he is talking us through the grater and peeler that changed his life. A speed peeler and a box grater. It's endearing how happy he is about "bits of kit" as he calls them.

Now he's all excited about bread. He's making three things that will mean bread becomes... er, well, a staple. Fennel and Feta flatbread looks delish and easy, like a very cool pizza. I'm warming to his delivery - the nuances are worth the slightly dirty feeling. Honest.

More bread and it's baguettes this time, to make bruschetta and add garlic and caper berries with pecorino and cherry tomatoes. "Paying attention to the edges," he whispers invitingly. "Add a twist of pepper," he continues, seductively.

Next is a white bean crostini with olives and anchovies. Delish. Even he thinks it's incredible.

"Incredible," he whispers.

Gordon tells me power is knowledge in the kitchen. But his hand gesture for the word "knowledge" is to make like he's cupping some giant  breasts. Whoah there ...

Now he's telling me about his top five soft herbs he can't live without. Basil, parsley, coriander, tarragon and chervil.  Yikes now he's talking about hard ones.

I don't think I can do this.

Oh it's ok, it's just rosemary, thyme, oregano sage and bay leaves. Calm down all.

OK we're in to desserts. Puddings should be a pleasure not a chore he says. Home made ones are always impressive he gasps.

Griddled pineapple with spiced caramel is his pick and he may be right. He's griddling the slices of pineapple and sprinkles them with sugar to glaze them. Now he's making the caramel - never stir it he says, rather forcefully. Then suddenly I blink and he's whisking it  - I don't know what happened but it seemed to involve cream and butter.

He's now telling me how to chop basil and suggests we place the leaves on inside the other. Who has time for that Gordon. Not with all this seduction going on.

It's really important to get comfortable with the knife, he says, as he shows us his gnarly fingers. Then he says that cutting with a knife is "all in the wrist action". It's a schoolboy's dream. And he hasn't finished yet. He brings it home with his tips for cutting stuff up. "Up and down, up and down". I need a hug and a nap.

Now he's giving us some quick fire cooking tips. Want a boiled egg? Add an egg to boiling water  for eight minutes, finish with a splash of vinegar and plunge into iced water.

Salad dressings.  Asparagus...

It's all too much. I can't cope with his tips. there are too many.  I can't help feeling that some of them are not tips at all, they're just things everyone does. Cook asparagus in water. Make a salad dressing. Buy his app. Oh. I see...

Come Dine With Me Couples - Merseyside edition

We are in Liverpool where three couples will take turns cooking for each other  - and scoring each night as they go. Who will win?

First up are Sandra and Graham, who met in the army and seem determined to be the funny ones. They do this by being obnoxious and semi-abusive to each other throughout the course of the night.

Graham calls Sandra a "slop jockey." Snigger.

Their menu involves beef medallions, and couple number 2 - Joanne and Simon - seem impressed with the cut of meat. They don't normally like posh things, they buy in bulk and they don't care. Joanne giggles as Simon talks. Then Joanne giggles some more.

Helen and Adam are couple number 3. They're knobs. He is already wanking on about all the 3 Michelin star restaurants they've been to.

Back to Sandra and she's slapping Graham in the face with the fillet steak. Then she makes him drop and give her ten.

Oh, they are so funny.

Starter for Sandra and Graham is chicken mousseline and mushroom douxelle pasta. The name of which has the expected effect on the others - Simon has no idea, just thinks it sounds posh and therefore is scared, while Adam and Helen look impressed.

Dessert will be something unpronounceable to Simon.

Joanne giggles.

Time for the first dinner party.

Sandra and Graham get changed and Sandra reappears suddenly looking like a dominatrix - choker necklace and boobs out. Graham tells Sandra Jo and Simon's names, and already hilarity ensues when she wonders if they're both men. Oh you.

Helen and Adam turn up with a magnum of champagne, the douchebags. Helen is already sounding hysterical and shrill. Helen's hair is the only thing I can look at. It's remarkable. Tall, curled, pinned, loose. It is every hairstyle ever, all in one.

Dinner begins.

Entree goes off without a hitch. "You'd get it at a posh place," says Simon. High praise.

Helen's hair is defying gravity.

Adam criticises the wine.

Simon says he loves Ferrari but doesn't have one... and Helen jumps in to wank on and on about how she's had 4 Porsches. The world weeps.

Then Graham and Sandra do a little singing for everyone. It's horrible.

They make their dessert and Helen must have had too much champers as talk turns to nicknames and she asks if Sandra calls Graham "big Sarg". He makes a joke about a big "saus-sarge" and she a) laughs shrilly or b) gets an AVO out on him. (clue: it's "a")

Joanne calls Simon her "big baby boy" and then says he's known at home as the "bum monster".  Simon explains he's called this because he likes to chase her and bite and pinch her on the bum.

Make it stop.

Day 2 and it's Joanne and Simon's time. Adam hedges his bets saying he gets the feeling they don't know much about food but then says he wouldn't be surprised if they did. He's making no sense but no one cares what he says anyway so it doesn't matter.

Turns out Simon doesn't cook much. But they're making American style pulled pork and says the word spicy about 15 times while Joanne giggles. Oh, bum monster!

Entree will be scallops and fruit skewers. Helen loves scallops. Adam says something. I wasn't listening.

Sandra and Graham find a photo that shows Simon used to be really overweight. But now he's a fussy eater and has a tattoo of the number 26 - he weighed 26 stone - on his "fridge hand" so when he goes to eat out of the fridge he's reminded how fat he was. This is poignant. Joanne giggles.

There's a lot of chat about the scallop /fruit combo. Not a winner. Adam patronisingly says they're cooked well.  Simon should eat him.

The pulled pork is too spicy for Sandra and Graham. Who knew?

Helen whispers she doesn't like pork. Or spicy food.

Adam complains about the wine.

Then Adam asks Simon where the meat comes from and wanks on about how he spends a lot on meat and you can taste the difference. Simon nods patiently but clearly wants to punch him. Then he patiently explains to us what a wanker Adam is. Not in so many words.

One more night to go. Helen and Adam are now spraying Glen 20 all over their kitchen for some reason, and talking about Michelin stars again. If they use the phrase fine dining one more time I'm going in.

Bum monster sums it all up in a nutshell.  "I don't want to put them down but they're a little bit more boring than we are."

Their entree is sea bass with prawns. Dessert is a creme brûlée and Helen puts them in the oven. Adam sits and watches the oven get to the right temperature while Helen reapplies her lipstick.

They're doing venison for main, with red cabbage. Adam tells us it compliments the venison  - he knows this because he's had it in a few restaurants before. And he's a fuck-knuckle.

The other couples arrive and nose about their house, looking at photos.

Turns out in some photos you can see that Helen has tattoos all over herself. This is because she is "fun" and "wild".  Adam takes photos of food, which Simon can't understand. "I'll take photos on roller coasters and things like that, but not in the pub - 'oh look at this pastie'," he guffaws.

Hang on, bum monster - the only place you take photos is on roller coasters?

Adam and Helen have horrible black plates and glasses but bring out different glasses for each course because they've done wine matching with their dishes. Of course. Because they're "strong advocates of it" apparently.  I don't think Adam knows what that means.

The others are all appalled that they have different glasses for each wine. Sandra and Graham think you only need a wide-bottomed glass for red and a small glass for white, Simon thinks wine either makes you gag or not. I think you're "advocating" to the wrong audience, Adam.

No one likes the fish entree.

They talk about the food photos. Adam tells us they're also big advocates of fine dining. I stab myself in the eye with a pen.

He hold up a picture from Heston Blumenthal's Fat Duck - "that's a faux grow dish" he says. I gauge a little harder.

Adam is wanking on about his personal favourites and shuffling through the pics, showing bad shots of Heston's snail porridge. "That's a good one," he says. Everyone is asleep.
"I think it's a great interest of mine", he says. No kidding, says the world.

He has a meat probe. I know what he should do with it.

They bring up the tattoos. And then Helen says it's because they have a rock side to them. But then Adam shows his "fantasy-based" tattoo and everyone in the universe laughs. This is because it cements his position as biggest tool ever.  Helen now thinks their crazy side has won them over. Adam advocates this. Then ruins it all by wanking on about dessert wine.

Joanne tries to be nice, saying that Adam has been taking them on a food journey.
Bum Monster says "It could have been a short journey which we would have enjoyed, instead it was a lengthy journey."

Three cheers for bum monster.

Adam is garbling on about citrus cutting through the sweetness. I didn't know he was still talking.

Time for the scores and Sandra tells us she wouldn't cry if she won. Graham says he would
And lo, they do. And they both do. Bless.

Simon is gutted  - but makes a good point about getting two free meals.

Adam can't talk anymore. Helen says the will have to go to another Michelin star place to drown their sorrows. Adam pretends to cheers to the winners while inside he's thinking about Heston's snail porridge. It's his happy place.

Tom Kerridge's Proper Pub Food - episode 6

Tom Kerridge is a lovely, large, smiley West Country English chef – and despite appearances Tom can put together a delicate plate of food. 

His pub, as he tells us, is the only 2 Michelin star pub in the UK. He's all over the micro herb. 

But he also makes fish and chips and good old country cooking. And it looks delicious.

His whole show seems to be based on lovely West Country English things he recalls from his idyllic Famous Five-style childhood and now produces in a 2 Michelin star fashion at his gastropub. And that isn't meant to sound as snide as it does. I'm just jealous. I too grew up in the West Country of England. And I have no Michelin stars. Not that I'm bitter.

The opening of the show is all kids running around a picnic table, eating ice creams and letting them drip down their arms, while adults laugh uproariously at, one can only imagine, middle class jokes about the working class.

I could be wrong. They could be drunk. 

Either way it's very, very, very English. 

Tom tells us he's going to make baked beans from scratch, promising you'll never go back to the tinned versions. Heinz executives around the world laugh nervously, wondering if it's time to take their kids out of private school. 

But they can't stay mad at him for long. He's so lovely – a big ball of enthusiasm covered in tattoos with the Best. Accent. Ever. I could sit here all day and listen to him say "butterrr" or "lumpy sauce". Sigh. When he says his omelette is "right good for dishin' up" I want to hug him.

He also promises that he can make a roast chicken fun. Apparently this is just a matter of baking it in hay and cider – thinking back to my childhood, I don't know if that would cut it. Just sayin' Tom, my loverrrrr.

He then moves on to making his roast chicken  - gathering "herrrrbs" from his "garrrrrden" and getting his "ciderrrrr". When he grabs a long white piece of material and suggests it looks like he's about to make a wedding dress, I'm saddened to hear it's just for making a muslin bag for the chicken. 

What does she have that I don't? 

He makes a sauce to go with the chook that he says is like an English summer time. My memory is wasps, ice cream and stinging nettles but apparently England has changed since the 70s and the taste of summer now means cooking juices from the chicken and some hay. This explains my lack of Michelin stars. 

He's now making his homemade anti-Heinz baked beans with a recipe that involves bacon, haricot beans, brown sugar and an Aga stove, cooking them for hours over a low heat. They look nice enough.

Time for a blurry shot of Tom the background while we see some tulips in the foreground.

Tom's telling us how to make Sodabread. It's actually something I may make. It looks delicious.

 

He piles the beans on top of his home made soda bread before tasting them and declaring them "the best Baked Beans on toast" and then... he sits alone and eats them in the kitchen. Why? Where are all the kids and drunk middle class people now??  Have the Heinz people kidnapped them? 

And then Tom says something about faggots and how he grew up on them and how he wants to convert us all. 

A nation turns off the TV and writes in to their MPs. 

Then he says they're just like sausages. 

Some people turn their TVs back on. 

He says faggot about 50 times in 5 minutes and no one knows what to do. 

He goes to the butcher to get a whole bunch of pork to make them. 

The shopping list includes one pig's heart and just a little piece of liver. 

Yeah that should be plenty, say those of us with no interest in offal, retching. 

But he's so happy to be making faggots you can't look away. It's like a medical drama with an accent as he minces bits of meat that no one in their right mind would want to touch. 

And, irritatingly, every time he says faggot, the 14 year old inside me wants to snigger. I feel like a have hay fever, I'm nearly exploding so much. It's exhausting.

He skived off school for faggots. Snigger.

He has six lovely faggots now. Snort.

Gently pick up one of your faggots. Harumph

Enough. They're made, they're like sausages and they're delish. OK? 

They go well with his onion gravy. He makes this by roasting onions for two hours while it seems he stands around in the kitchen listening to the radio and tapping his trendy trainers. 

His faggots are firm now. Garump.

I need to lie down.

Now he's making an apple and toffee crumble pie. It's like all the good words in the world together at once. He's as excited as we are, making his own toffee like a giant, casually dressed Willy Wonka. He goes on to stew some apples - cooking them in butter with orange peel and cinnamon. He talks about crumble like it's the best thing ever, he's so happy to be making this dessert he can't wait to serve it. But first he needs some help and he hangs out the window calling to.... the drunk adults who haven't been kidnapped by Heinz henchmen after all.

The drunk adults then turn out to be his wife, sister and brother in law. Awks.

The kids who were running around with the ice creams before turn out to be his nieces and he ropes them in to help create the crumble pie – cracking the home made toffee and adding it to the top of what is surely the most delicious creation known to man. Certainly known to Tom. He's beside himself. 

It's served with clotted cream ice cream and a taxi to the hospital. 

One of these things may not be true.

He asks the kids if they like it and one says "I  like the apple in it." Tom laughs. But inside you know he's broken.

Masterchef UK, season 10 - the episode where they meet the world's greatest chef, and one of them has NO IDEA WHO HE IS

It's  the semi final of Masterchef UK, and the contestants are in Spain. So host John Torode is wearing a scarf to show us he's outside. And talking to someone to the right of the camera. John, we're over here...

The contestants  – who I shall call Ping, Giggly Luke and Jack with the hair – are here to learn from The World's Greatest Chef – Ferran Adria – and they don't even know it.

Squee.

Adria's El Bulli, we're told, is where the world got foams and airs, as well as some of the most amazing dishes in the universe. All made by TWGC. Who is here.  And they don't know.

Yikes.

The contestants are up early, walking together like a Bananarama video clip, all wearing their chef's whites in to the market.

Giggly Luke lets himself down already by saying he doesn't know much about Spanish food.

Ping points out things as they walk  – "avocados" she shouts, pointing her pen at the fruit. "Avocados" the others say in unison, nodding.

Co-host Gregg Wallace isn't wearing a scarf but he's very enthusiastic nonetheless, threatening that if they can't get inspiration there, they may as well hang up their aprons.

Giggly Luke panics and runs away from the camera looking for things he may recognise and be able to pronounce. Jack with the hair patronisingly says "they" appreciate it when you try and speak Spanish and then ask for parsley in a bad Spanish accent. "They" don't seem to like that.

Now we're in a town square where Jack, Ping and Luke are about to prepare their three tapas plates for a growing crowd and both Gregg and John, who is still wearing his scarf to show he's outside. Gregg is wearing a mac for the same reason, and is getting dizzy as he walks around trying to find things to smell and be enthusiastic about.

John is now talking to someone on the left hand side of the screen.

Luke, who has been dragged back from his panic attack in the market, is making bruschetta and worrying he's given himself too much to do.

Gregg wants Ping to do something Asian. Which isn't racist.

He gets over excited about her use of wasabi and has to hide his hands behind his back so he doesn't try and eat it. John says something out of Speedy Gonzalez to hurry them up. That's Mexico, John.

Tasting time, and it seems John brought his own silver fork. Gregg has to use a plastic one but he doesn't seems to care. "I like deep fried fish balls" he says like a small child, bouncing on his feet. I fear he may implode.

Jack's gremolata on top of his squid gives Gregg some kind of aneurism

Next up we meet Christian Escriba and Patricia Schmidt who are amazing famous pastry chefs and artists. He has an edible pastry showroom and is bonkers but amazing, making surprising and OTT desserts like giant dogs and a cowboy boot that one can only assume isn't a cowboy boot but in fact a cake. He also has a marvellous collection of spectacles and will henceforth be known as Elton John's Glasses.

The team build an edible Barcelona with chocolate pools of liquid candy, hard toffees and chocolates and green, um, stuff. They eat a lot of it. And try and communicate their love of it all by saying "fantastic" in Spanish accents.

Then they have to cook for Elton John's Glasses. Of course they now have to make a "surprising" dessert. Jack looks lost. Then makes an amazing white chocolate shell filled with Mango parfait. They love it and give him a model of himself made of sugar.
"I had a hard time making your hair," Patricia laughs. With good reason.

Ping has a plant pot filled with mint tiramisu and Elton John's Glasses loves it. We know this because "It's berry good. Thank you berry much"

Giggly Luke makes a meringue case filled with raspberry and white chocolate.
He has to say "surprise!" as Patricia and Elton John's Glasses don't seem to get it, and he giggles nervously. Then gets his doll and doesn't seem to realise it's him.

Awkward.


Day two and a cat is getting some sun, little realising that Bananarama are on their way.

Here's Carles Abellan – he worked with TWGC for a long time, before opening his amazing restaurants. But he could have a job as an Elvis impersonator.

Worryingly his interpreter sounds like he has emphysema.

Carles is teaching them to make some signature dishes from throughout his time as a chef. He says he loves the dishes like his own children, then we cut to a disturbing image of a large knife cutting through peppers.

Gulp.

Carles tells us something about something. It's hard to see under his quiff.

Then he's so nice to them about their food you just want to hug him. He tells Ping her dish is better than TWGC's and kisses her. He helps Giggly Luke who giggles nervously. And then he says it's perfect. By now I'm teary.
He swoops in to watch Jack with the hair, proudly looking on like a dad.
"OH MY GOD," he yells. "It's amazing."
Bawling.


And now they have to create a dish combining their own food and what they've learnt in Spain.

Luke walks around madly saying "spoon".


TWGC begins his walk into the building. The music gets more and more nail-bitingly loud. Carles eats Ping's pork. Thumbs up. Ping is making an air from oranges. That is a weird collection of sentences.


TWGC is walking in.
Carles meets him at the top of the stairs and everyone shares an awkward hug, then he leads him in to the kitchen.

Ping looks excited. Giggly Luke looks like he doesn't know who it is. Jack giggles nervously. Get your own "thing" Jack, the giggles are Luke's.

Ping tells him she loves cooking which is why she's on Masterchef. TWGC tells her to keep it as a hobby. Muchos laughter. He walks away and Ping looks like she's met Mick Jagger.

Jack giggles. TWGC giggles. Jack has no idea who he's dealing with.

Luke hugs TWGC and giggles. High fives him. Tells him he works in robotics. Everyone falls asleep.

TWGC has brought Elton John's Glasses and  Roser Torras who is another Spanish foodie.

TWGC threateningly says he is hungry.

Luke has a headache. Will this prevent him in some way from doing something and therefore cause drama? Only time will tell.

Ping is all good. She's making orange potatoes.

Jack with the hair is dishing up and giving TWGC his dinner. He's made lamb three ways with pea air among other things. TWGC has his arms folded.  Elton John's Glasses looks stressed.

A stream of Spanish words follow before we hear the word "fantastic" and then the emphysemic translator says "fantastic".
Phew.

Elton John's Glasses tell Jack he loves it. "It's berry, berry, berry good."

Luke is fine now. He must have had a panadol. He's refusing to acknowledge who he's serving. He is calling them normal diners. but Elton John's Glasses and TWGC are waiting. Tapping. Drinking wine.
He delivers the meals and sits down. His deconstructed moussaka looks good.

Roser asks if that was his goal, "to separate the aubergine from the meat" as if having a goal you can reach involving meat and vegetables is as worthy as, say, climbing Everest. Elton John's Glasses look worried. But they all seem to enjoy it.
TWGC calls it "tasty". Luke giggles, not totally understanding if they like it or not. I don't know either. He has to lie down.

Ping is clearly Carles's favourite. He watches over her like Daddy Elvis.

Elton John's Glasses and TWGC are drinking more wine.

Ping's dish smells good  – TWGC holds it up to his nose to appreciate it. Elton John's Glasses love it. Roser likes it. TWGC says it's really well done. Twice. TWGC claps. This means he likes it. Roser kisses her. Game over.

Cut to Bananarama walking away in the Barcelona sunset. We look back through their journey as the wind blows Ping and Luke's hair all crazy, and Jack isn't allowed outside as his hair would do serious damage.