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Domestic goddess gone mad

September 18, 2007

After reading this wondrous blog about Nigella Lawson’s new food program Nigella Express, I thought I’d take a look myself last night. My god, what a shambles. The woman spends most of the time bobbing around her kitchen like a Thunderbird, constantly moving her hands as she talks as if the energy created powers her mouth. When she’s not moving, she’s smiling. Smiling as if she’s taken one of those potions the Joker off Batman made. She talks through this horrid grimace so much so that you can’t actually tell what she’s saying half the time.

And when she’s not doing *that* she’s smiling a smaller, smug smile that makes her two front teeth stick out. I’m sure she thinks this makes her look like the sexy bunny off the Caramel advert. But it actually only serves to make her look like the posh, self satisfied fruit-loop she is. She seriously comes across as someone on the verge of a nervous breakdown. One of those harassed dinner party hosts you see on Come Dine With Me who dementedly insist that everything is fine – FINE! – before dissolving in a fit of tears, snot and dribble.

The premise of the show is to make food as quickly as possible Well, to look at her, I think we know what kind of fast food Nig has been eating. I’m all for curvy ladies, but lazy curvy ladies are a no no. Throughout the show, Nigella tries to get down with the ‘little people’ (us) by doing things like explaining that she’s really busy and doesn’t have time to cook. That’s why you get your maid to do it for you Nigella! “I just throw this in, because I can’t be bothered.” – a) really doesn’t do wonders for the curvy image, now does it? b) doesn’t foster good will from us plebs.

Last night’s show was all about Italian food, and Nigella spent most of it cooing over olives or stroking some focaccia. She made an admittedly lovely looking dinner for her Italian friend and then forced her to eat it off her lap – “I’m just like you lot, honest!” the whole thing screamed. The poor Italian friend had to endure a whole meal of Nigella wittering on in her terrible Italian accent about how she made this and how she changed that. Why not ask your mate how she’s doing eh? Ask her how her cleaning job is, or how working minimum wage because she can’t find anything else til she gets a visa is treating her?

There was one bit where she’d just prepared some pasta for one. She set it down, pulled up a chair and then devoured it as if she was some sort of lion chomping at a zebra. I half expected her to bury her head in the bowl, shake it around and then come up for air, bits of pasta hanging out of her mouth. In fact, at one stage she did actually miss her mouth and had to flick the pasta into it with a toss of her head. All finished off with one of those looks to camera where she thinks she’s being sultry and alluring, but actually comes across as a crazy, mad bint.

Nigella then went shopping because, hey, now she’s so uber quick at cooking Italian style, she has time to shop. See? She really *is* like us… Except, we don’t buy ribbon to make a hair band for our daughter. We tend to buy a 99p one from the pound shop. While at something called a haberdashery, Nigella found a lovely Italian ribbon to use for her dinner that would perfectly patronise her Italian friend. Wonderful!

Next it was off out with her children – no doubt back from boarding school for the summer. The boy kept trying to skate into his mother (“That’ll teach you for sending me away to get felt-up by my school masters,”) meanwhile, Nigella clutches at her daughter and forces her to walk linked arms with her. It’s all in a bid to show that yes, Nigella is mates with her kids, see? She’s one of those cool yummy mummies who tries skating with her kids! This was hilarious. Both children either side of her, trying to hold her up while she floundered and wobbled her way to standing on the board.

After half an hour, it started to rub off on me too. I started talking with an inane grin slapped on my face. I kept expressing myself with my hands that little bit too much and kept looking at Mr Badger with what I thought was a sultry, sexy look but was actually a cold, evil glint. It got so bad I actually almost thought I was an upper class housewife with bugger all to do all day but make creamy desserts and horrible headbands for my socially retarded daughter. Someone stop this woman. Now.

PS I don’t care if people find her attractive. Yes, she’s hot. But she’s also crazy. And those two just don’t mix IMO.

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3 Comments leave one →
  1. Swineshead permalink
    September 18, 2007 12:20 pm

    I went back on my word and watched it again. You know the bit where she gave the food to her Italian friend (ie actress)? I predicted that she’d caller darling and my better half predicted that the Italian would say ‘it’s just like my mama used to make’. We were both spot on. What a load of shit.

    And for one of the meals she just bought stuff pre-made from the kind of deli where one small tub of olives costs about 3 quid! The cheat. I hate her.

  2. Sophie permalink
    September 20, 2007 12:21 pm

    It really annoys me the way she’s always, like running her hand through her hair and then sticking it back into whatever she’s cooking. Surely that’s not hygienic?

  3. Adz permalink
    October 2, 2007 9:20 am

    Some of the food she make is nice, but I totally agree with what you say, she is crazy. She said something on last night’s episode about getting her kids with a crazy deranged look in her eyes

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