Famous for 5 Minutes

So, I'll be appearing on TV tonight after filming a restaurant review programme for NDTV Metro Station, part of the New Delhi TV network. Filming took place in a plush restaurant called The Ivy - all red chandeliers, white interior, backlit bar and a separate room upstairs where the beautiful people can spy on the hoi polloi - is housed in an office block in New Friends Colony Community Market (northern South Delhi, if that makes sense).

I got to know about it through Nathan. I think he'd been out drinking with the producer at some point (unbeknown to him at the time) and got his number. Now NDTV Wallah has mine. He did cal me up last week to guest at a French restaurant, but I was too slow to reply. Once bitten, twice shy...

The place was empty. Not a good sign. I thought it had been closed for filming, but I was mistaken. I sat there with the other two guests of the show for about an hour before food was served. I knew that was going to happen. I made sure I snuck a cheeky chicken burger in before I went in to appease the stomach deity, but it's calming affect was wearing thin by the time 9pm rolled on.

My co-guests were a mother and daughter who'd been rustled up at the last minute to stop me looking like Wilhelm Keinfreunden. I did try and call people, but very few replied. I guess I don't mix with many people who are out for shameless self-promotion. We were joined by the host of the show - a Tibetan lass in her twenties of whom The Bear would have avidly approved. She was a natural host and could talk until the cows come home, and then go back out again, but wasn't annoying. That's a rare talent. Apparently she trained in Hotel Management in various parts of the world, which seems like an odd leap. Maybe I could get myself a show over here. Would have to up my charm levels a few notches.

The first part of our segment was the intro bit: who we are, where we're from etc. I flashed the ol' gnashers and smiled a lot, but the mother was out-doing me. Damn! No competition from the daughter though, a very quiet soul who is going off to uni to train in journalism. Good luck with that love! Mind you, the guy Devanjan with whom I work was a journalist and he wouldn't say boo to a goose. Maybe it is easier to be a hack in this part of the world.

Once intros were done we sat and waited for the food. When it finally came we were all overwhelmed by a symphony of European cuisine: sea bass; penne; spaghetti with eggplant; chicken roulade wrapped in bacon; New Zealand lamb chops (rare); prawns sauteed in white wine and garlic; smoked salmon with rosti; and the most artistic arrangement of bread I've ever seen in my life. My stomach was singing, literally, and all of us were ready to dive in, but there was a catch. We couldn't. We had to sit there and wait as our food went cold before they were ready to shoot. So for the next 6 minutes of filming us stuff ourselves, we were tucking into cold food. My personal review, which wasn't aired, is thus:
Prawns: delicious.
Smoked salmon: ok, not too salty. Rosti was good.
Spaghetti with eggplant: not bad. Pasta had some bite to it.
Sea bass: tough because it was cold.
Chicken roulade: See sea bass.
Penne: simple tomato sauce done well
Lamb: rare? it had barely been introduced to the pan!
Bread: mweh??

I've been itching to be on Saturday Kitchen for some time so I had to seize the opportunity when it came. It's no fun supping on soggy cereal when James Martin's rustling up sautee and satay before your very eyes. Admittedly, the food was cold when I ate it and I'll never go back to the Ivy because it is far too swanky, but a three course meal plus beer would have set me back about 18 quid: I got it for nowt!

And they might just invite me back.