TV Eye: Telly to make you queasy

Nigella Lawson's new show on Prime can, at times, be hard to stomach. Photo / Supplied

How do you like your chocolate peanut butter cheesecake? Do you like it set on the top but with just "a hint of inner thigh wibble" within?

I suspect a taste for Nigella (Tuesdays, Prime) rather depends on your ability to swallow chocolate peanut butter cheesecake in the first place, and your ability to swallow food descriptions such as that "inner thigh wibble," in the second.

Me? I felt faintly queasy at the thought of that pudding and very crook indeed at the idea of eating anything that could be described in such gastro-porny terms.

But it's an interesting description of food, I'll give the voluptuous Miss Lawson that. There's that inner thigh, which is ever so naughty and meant to make you wonder just what Miss Lawson's thighs might be like beneath that black satin dressing gown.

Not me. I was wondering why the hell she was making a chocolate peanut butter cheesecake while wearing a black satin dressing gown, in what appeared to be the middle of the night, with all that rosy, low kitchen lighting. Who has lighting like that in a kitchen? A woman who has fairy lights in her pantry (or her TV set pantry), that's who.

She would, wouldn't she? They're what little girls think they might have in their pantry when they grow up. The cheesecake is naughty nursery food for naughty grown ups. That wibble is nursery talk for naughty grown ups.

I do admire Nigella. What troubles she's had lately. She and hubbie, the very rich art collector, have had to put their £36 million Belgravia apartment on the market because renovating neighbours have been driving them mad.

But she soldiers on, casting off her high heels and, eventually, the black trenchcoat she was wearing to make a Thai chicken noodle soup. What fortitude. She got a bit hot. "You know what? I need to disrobe,"she said, eventually, and threw off the trench coat. She was wearing perfectly normal clothes, with just a hint of wibble in the famous chest area, but what a tease.

She writes jolly good cookbooks. I don't know who her TV shows are for. She scatters red onion, "pinkly"; she spoons in a "luscious" dollop of sour cream; vermicelli noodles "look like they've lit up by moonlight". All of which made me feel very wibbly, in the gut area, indeed.

The Kitchen Job is back (Tuesdays, 7.30pm) This makes me feel like shouting at the TV, because, honestly, why do these people think setting up a restaurant would be a good idea?

In this week's episode, a woman called Angela set up a restaurant called Tobys - with no apostrophe. I never really got past the missing apostrophe and after the makeover, it was still missing.

Angela had, for unspecified reasons, been "getting very depressed" so she decided to set up a restaurant. She had no hospitality experience. I have no experience as a psychologist but I could have told her that setting up a restaurant is not generally considered to be a quick fix for depression.

She was fighting with the foul-mouthed chef. The fix-it guy, John Palino, said, to the chef: "Could you stop with that knife for a second? I'm afraid you're going to stab me." One lives in hope.

The Kitchen Job is another of those shows in which bossy people turn up and tell you how to sort out your restaurant, your crumbling castle, your badly behaved mutt and so on.

I'd watch a show in which a bossy person turned up at Nigella's to sort out her horrid neighbours. Or one which featured a missing apostrophe fixer.

-TimeOut