Like the work of our little friend from The Guardian, this show is only peripherally about food. I couldn?t care less about yet another mangled souffle, but CDWM is unmissable telly because it crackles with the dinner-party tension that can only be generated by a handful of total strangers baking warm tarts for cold hard cash.
Imagine just how well this would work in a tiny community like ours. People are strangers enough to make drunken faux pas, yet familiar enough for the dishes to simmer with the spice of family feuds and social resentment as soon as alcohol is introduced to the equation. Better still, why not throw some Wife Swap into the mix and lump locals together purely on the basis of how much they?re likely to disagree? Okay, so we?ve all been to enough awkward dinner parties to know that this idea is guaranteed to be a total disaster, but social disaster might well translate to some fantastic ratings. Think Jeremy Kyle, but with crème brûlée.
Needless to say, local foodie sponsors won?t be hard to find after The Guardian?s recent hatchet job. Personally, I wouldn?t object to every meal being contractually obliged to include potatoes, yellow milk and black butter, providing that the preparation of bean crock is done off-camera. Boiled pig?s feet? No thanks, we don?t want to scare anyone off.
