 |
Breaking Media, Politicians & Celebrities Since 1995Tabloid news for broadsheet readers |
Jamie Oliver feeds the world
JAMIE Oliver takes time out from telling fat football fans oop north to eat well and tells us:
“In the old days I used to get the knickers and the bras. It was good. Filth whispered in me ears.
“He’s a w***er” (Times.
They’re just bored of me now. I’m just that geezer who keeps, you know, doing these worthy things around the country.”
Like shoving it down people’s throats…
JOOLS Oliver makes a call to Anorak’s Celebrity Baby Ordering And Star Treatment Service (BOAST)
“If I’m really honest, I’d like another girl,” – Jools Oliver, Mrs Jamiel Oliver, Sun
BOAST. Make the call now…
Myleene Klass And Norman Cook Call BOAST
CELEBRITY Quote of the day: Jamie Oliver And A Battery Farmed Prince Charles.
Prince Charles thanks Jamie Oliver for rekindling children’s interest…in food. Says Oliver’s spokesman:
“He is as much a fan of his Royal Highness as HRH is of him.”
Rex Newmark has his work cut out…
BIG Brother’s REX Newsmark is “HATED”. Anorak asked the typing pool to make a list of the most hated people in the UK. They came up with:
Indeed, Rex is hated. The star is right, as ever. And here Rex tells us:
JAMIE Oliver sees the benchmark for fine food in Soweto.
In 2005, Oliver offered us:
TV chef Jamie Oliver says school dinners are better in impoverished Soweto than they are in this country.
Now, Oliver gives us:
Oliver said in his experience the cuisine of “people living in the slums of Soweto” was “more diverse” that that of Britons.
Is there a link between Oliver not having cooked in Soweto and the place having better food then in the UK, where the tonguesom chef has been cooking on the telly for some time, and instructing us how to eat and how to shop via cook books and campaign?
We should be told…
“SIGN OF THE HARD TIMES,” says the Express.
“STORE TAGS CHICKEN TO STOP THIEVES.”
Not live chickens, which thanks to Jamie Oliver’s crusade all wear name badges, but dead ones, shrink wrapped and frozen.
HUNGRY for Jamie Oliver? Reports the Star:
A NEW advert for Jamie Oliver’s Presto sauce is to be set in a red-light district. An actor dressed as a sauce jar will pose as ‘sex pesto’ offering a good time to guys dressed as salmon, chicken and prawns.
Fishy.
“FULL of fun and mischief, Josephine and Zac Onions are ordinary, healthy children” observers the Mail.
And like all ordinary children of five and three, respectively, they are being breastfed by their mother, Stella Onions.
Of course, we live in times when parents strive to have extraordinary children, giving them names like Apple, Princess Tiaamii and Neville. This means few of any children are ordinary and being suckled by their mothers at school lunchtime.
If only Mrs Jamie Olive can be coerced to stick her nipples through the school gates, her husband’s campaign for better school dinners will surely win the day.
SARAH Ferguson is living with people in Hull on the telly. She even managed to find a family of copper tops to make her paper more at home, but it just ends up looking like a patronising version of the Prince and the Pauper.
Every morning Sarah says she wakes up feeling fat, ugly and disgusting, as opposed to disgusting, fat and ugly, like those lucky sods in Hull who are too ignorant to notice let alone mind.
But Sarah will show them how repugnant they truly are. She’s the missionary teaching the godless to feel shame for their bad eating habits and for looking bad naked.
Now Jamie Oliver tells one and all: “I am now living lives with people in Rotherham who don’t have cooking in their lives. I want them to fall in love with cooking.”
Oliver wants the sad and stupid to see how wrong they are, to feel shame and experience the sweet sting of epiphany over some sun dried polenta stir fry.
And then there’s Richard and Judy contemplating a week-long visit to Dewsbury Moor.
RACHEL Ray is a TV cook in the US.
She’s also the hips and gunt of Dunkin’ Donuts, the revolting lumps of fat Americans eat while watching Rachel tell them about moulding fat into three-course meals.
Rachel comes up with abbreviations like EVOO (short for extra virgin olive oil), so that fat Americans don’t have to waste too much breathe between mouthfuls of syrup.
Now Rachel has courted what passes for controversy by appearing in a Dunkin’ Donuts adverts wearing what Michelle Malkin, an uptight American blogger, calls a “jihadi chic keffiyeh”.
Asks Malkin: “Is Ray’s blunder worth boycotting DD over?”
It’s a puzzler, and one Charles Johnson, another prominent US blogger, considers in “Mainstreaming Terrorism to Sell Donuts.”
Rachel Ray’s Last Suppers
It’s hard not be outraged and appalled. Ray should be shot or else have the scarf burnt off, preferably while she is still wearing it. Doesn’t Ray know the War On Terror (WOT) is raging and she needs to act accordingly?
Jamie Oliver (who is often seen wearing a burka and wiry beard) would have worked out that Ray should be campaigning for better food for terrorists.
In Al-A-Carte, Rachel will tour the world’s trouble spots trying to buy junk food while inviting various despots and terror leaders to cook their favourite last meals against the clock.
The dishes will then be served up to suicide bombers on their way to a date with the virgins.
Anorak suggests Ray goes with something with not too much garlic and lots of carbs…
“KIDS TOOLED UP IN SCHOOL,” says the Star.
The “terrifying” fact that children are taking weapons into school illustrated by a “youngster with a knife”.
The knife is about nine inches long and looks like something you’d find in a kitchen. The Star has seen the police figures and says a third of all such weapons are knives.
The figures go back to 2005. Indeed, dear reader, that is the time of Jamie’s School Dinners, the TV show featuring Jamie Oliver took running the kitchen meals in Kidbrooke School, Greenwich, for a year.
JAMIE Oliver, or, rather, JAMIE! Oliver!!! is upset that his latest crusade has not been taken up by one and all.
Jamie is into free range, the farming practise in which chickens are allowed to see the outside world and glimpse through the wire a world of possibilities. They are then slaughtered. It is the humane way.
But in Jamie’s Fifteen Cornwall eatery, a diner is being affronted with an egg. The Sun says the customer “noticed an egg’s ID stamp was not free range and snapped it”.
Was this shell of egg secreted in a meal? Or are diners in Jamie’s restaurant’s presented with less a menu than a basket of raw ingredient from which they are invited to take as many as they like to from a dish? Eggs are simple enough, but what of the beef?
The story is that the usual supplier failed to produce the eggs on time so staff ordered 360 eggs from elsewhere.
This suggests something about the farming industry and why battery eggs are popular. But Jamie is unhappy. “We have cast-iron rules on what any chef can buy in Fifteen around the world,” says Jamie. “I’ve never been so disappointed in all my life. Heads will roll.”
How the heads swill roll is unsaid. But given Jamie’s hands-on look at farming, we suggest strangulation…
CAN Jamie Oliver speak French?
We ask in light of the Mail’s lead news story that 84 horses, ponies and donkeys have been “SAVED FROM THE DINNER TABLE”.
The Mail says it is a “disturbing trade”.
Meat traders Jamie Gray [no relation] was, as reported, planning to sell the livestock to French butchers. But officers from the RSPCA, the International League for the Protection of Horses, the police and vets have arrested Gray and rescued the animals.
So the French go hungry. But will they mind? The other news is that the animal were “pitiful” and in “disgusting condition”. They were battery horses.
Look out for Jamie’s expose into how horses should be free range and organic, looking on as he slaughters Poleta Boy before a live studio audience…
SAY Jamie Oliver: “It is shocking that the people I work for did not turn up on the day. I do not know why… How dare they not? I am really upset.”
Jamie has hosted a televised dinner party in which the invited diners were shown clips of the kind of a chicken, not dissimilar to the one laid out before them, suffering in a battery farm and being killed.
Jamie is upset that Sainsbury’s who pay him £1million a year, did not attend. “We phoned on the day,” says Jamie. “And said, ’Can you not send anyone, even the poultry buyer?’ and no one came.”
Jamie may be surprised less that a Sainsbury’s worker decided not to support his latest campaign than that anyone should turn down a chance to be on the telly.
Jamie says the “the conditions under which standard eggs and chickens are reared are morally wrong”.
We should all take more care and more time to empathise with the chicken. We should perhaps invite the chicken to commit suicide or die doing something worthwhile, like waging the War on Terror or sacrificing themselves so that their chicks might live.
Indeed, Jamie Oliver commends to our attention the RSPCA’s Freedom –Food labelled chicken, to be eaten with Freedom Fries…
ALL is not well in the world of transatlantic celebrity relations as “fat-tongued Jamie Oliver” calls Angelina Jolie’s child “Piloh Sh*t instead of Shiloh Pitt”.
The Spoonerism has not gone down well.
In John Gross’s Oxford Books of Aphorisms, Comic Verse and Essays, the author mentions W. A. Spooner, coiner of the Spoonerism. Readers lean that there is a time and a place for a Spoonerism.
As an Arnold Toynbee says: “At a dinner party in Oxford, she saw Dr Spooner upset a saltcellar and then reach for a decanter of claret. He then poured claret on the salt, drop by drop, till he had produced the little purple mound which would have been the end-product if he had spilled claret on the tablecloth and had then cast a heap of salt on the pool to absorb it.”
It is clear that Spoonerism – verbal or physical - is not for everyone. Spooner could get away with his behaviour and not be punched in the throat by his host because it was the sort of thing expected of him. He may have been invited to the dinner in the implicit hope he would do something Spoonery.
Jamie Oliver is TV cook. He says “pukka”, “weerly wicked” and has a need to be liked.
His slip of the tongue – however generous – is best avoided…
JAMIE Oliver is hosting a dinner.
In the manner of 1950s chat show Tea With Noele Gordon (the actress who went on to front Lunchbox), Dinner With Jamie Oliver is going to be on TV.
Says the Independent: “Guests at the dinner will include celebrities, food producers, supermarkets and ordinary people.”
There has never been a dinner like it. It is extraordinary, apart from those “ordinary people”, who are extraordinarily ordinary in not being celebrities.
The belief that celebrities are in any way extraordinary enables Oliver to make a telly show in which he will “take-on battery farmed chickens”.
Once more, the Indy’s language creates an interesting tableau. Already excited at the prospect of watching Jamie break bread with “supermarkets”, we now envisage Oliver pulling on gloves and trying to beat even shades of browning from a battalion of Zombie Hens.
Called Jamie’s Fowl Dinners, Jamie will “graphically demonstrate” the chicken rearing process. Those not wishing to be put off their dinners, or ever eating again, should look away and wait for the pudding…
JAMIE Oliver, native of Essex, is to launch “’authentic’ Italian restaurant chain”.
Anorak has been to Italy and noted that the successful restaurant chains are called L’Insalata Ricca, Brek and McDonalds.
As the Guardian reports, Jamie’s Italian will be your neighbourhood Italian restaurant. Jamie says the food will be “prepared with love”. Or “wiv larv”, as they say in Jamie’s Italy…
JAMIE Oliver says Marco Pierre White, the large chef in the Dear Hunter headband on TV’s Hell’s Kitchen, is “a psychological bully”.
White is, of course, the chef unafraid to call mashed potato “potato mousseline” and was never going to take Oliver’s heat without making reply.
“I’d like to see him call me a bully to my face,” says White, a challenge reproduced on the Sun’s front cover.
White is no bully and the thinly veiled threat that he will beat anyone who says otherwise into a mousseline is testament it.
And White will not leave it there. That’s just for starters. Over two pages (“HELL’S BITCHIN’”), White delivers his call to the Celebrity Chef Smackdown.
“Go and win your first Michelin star, Jamie, and then I might take you seriously.” White, admirably, resists all temptation to punctuate his pep talk with “grasshopper”, astutely observing that that would over-egg the pudding, or Jamie.
White has been there and done it. He’s not only on barking terms with stars like uncomplicated comic Jim Davidson and 80s singer Paul Young but remains the youngest chef to have earned three of the coveted Michelin stars.
But Oliver is a star in his own right, a legend in his own lunchtime. But White is unimpressed. He says Oliver’s school dinners campaign was a “cheap publicity stunt”.
And chucks in for good measure: “I’d rather be who I am than fat chef with a drum kit.”
White would, one suspects, grudgingly acknowledge that you can only make something with the ingredients to hand. And if Oliver is a fat chef with a drum kit is because he has not bought a guitar or, say, a saxophone.
White also has words for the Hell’s Kitchen maître d’ Angus Deayton, still seeking a comedic role in a presenting setting.
They did not get on like peas in a pod, nor a Domaine Lafage Muscat Sec 1999 with surf ‘n’ turf. “ITV didn’t want me to batter him,” says White.
Indeed, not. Best stick with the mousseline…
JAMIE Oliver’s latest “pukka plan” is profiled in the Sun. A clue to what we can expect comes in the headline: “Call me Jamie 0-level.”
Jamie is in full political bent. Tony Blair’s administration did not just spawn weapons of mass destruction, Leo Blair and a spiritual reawakening among Cliff Richard fans. It coincided with the rise of Jamie Oliver.
Oliver met with Tony, and you can hear the former leader’s influence in Jamie’s outline for the future of the country.
As Oliver tells readers: “I always knew School Dinners would take ten years to come to fruition so it doesn’t bother me – I know it will come good.”
What doesn’t bother Jamie is that many children don’t like school dinners all that much, and prefer to gain sustenance form outside catering facilities.
But it is the ten year plan that stands out. Readers may recall Tony’s own ten-year plan for an integrated transport policy. That began in 1997 and comes to fruition on December 31 this year when Reading station gets a new replacement bus service to Newbury and the Wiltshire hinterlands.
Lifted by this success, Oliver is moving into education. Or education, education, education - a starter, main and pudding of a policy.
Oliver thinks a class talking about “life skills, common sense and cooking” should be in the syllabus.
“I’m concerned if we don’t get the classroom stuff done as well as the school dinners we will be f***** in 20 years time – just like America is now – a health nightmare. We are on the cusp of an epidemic, it really is that serious.”
With a nod to William Hague, Jamie says “it should be about common sense”.
Jamie is cultivating cross-party support. “Gordon, please,” says Jamie, “you know it makes sense.”
The doom-mongers at LibDem headquarters say that since Jamie started his School Dinners campaign around 400,000 children have shunned the service. Can they be brought on message?
For now, Jamie feels “good about what I did”.
Jamie says he went to Soweto, to an orphanage for Aids children. It was “incredibly emotional”. Using carrot, celery, mince meat and onions, a woman made a stew better than any Jamie has witnessed being made in England in two years.
The massage is clear: we should eat like they do in Soweto. Choice is off. If it’s not on the menu, we don’t do it. End of.
And so to the Jamie O-level. Take a dash of history, a knob of geography, a pinch of salt and a spritz of something special.
Et voila! A vision…
“JAMIE Oliver, the celebrity chef, has backed a plan to prevent children buying junk food by locking their school gates at lunchtimes,” observes the Telegraph.
It seems that children don’t all like eating polenta and coucous and like to eat crisps, chips and foot-long chocolate bars.
Says Oliver: “If the kids won’t come to you, take the food to the kids with satellite kitchens that can go in the playground.”
These are known in the TV business as carting vans and to late-night drinkers as the last resort.
Oliver is right, of course. In this fair and free land the kids should be locked up and made to eat what is handed to them in a Government-sanctioned canteen on pain of starvation.
Some will try to escape. And being so very thin they may well wriggle out between the bars.
But they won’t get far.
The idea is being considered in Denbighshire, North Wales, where the local Welsh nationalists have been informed that all sweet shops and takeaways are owned by English barons.
They are being firebombed as we write…