Anorak News | Gordon Ramsay’s Tonic

Gordon Ramsay’s Tonic

by | 25th, September 2006

POLITICS should be made to be more like TV cooking shows.

Tony Blair would have one minute to explain to a daytime TV audience – typically made up old people on day release from care homes, the hospitalised and journalists – why he should be allowed to lead.

David Cameron would come on to say how he plans to make some jam tomorrow. And Menzies Campbell would hand out some Werther’s Originals.

And then Gordon would bound onto the stage and tell everyone to “f*** off” because he was in charge.

No, not Gordon Brown, who causes the Mail to deliver the front-page headline: “COMETH THE HOUR, GORDON.” Not the Gordon who gets the Mirror banging on about “Gorducation, Gorducation, Gorducation”.

This is Gordon Ramsay. Well, if Jamie Oliver can make a (ham) fist at politics, why not Ramsay? And this Gordon knows all about life. He’s written a book about his own.

Having removed all the expletives and personal insults, the Sun, which is serialising the chef’s book, manages to get the remaining text down to a page and a half.

And readers learn that Gordon once paid for heroin for his drug-addict brother Ronnie. It was the only way Gordon could be sure his bother would get to their father’s funeral, a man, conveniently, also called Gordon.

Of the funeral, Gordon says: “It was horrible. It was organised by my dad’s partner Annie in a Margate crematorium. It was so characterless it might as well have been a branch of Tesco.”

Having deftly worked a slight on supermarkets into his father’s death (and given the ubiquitous Tesco a new trade to invest in and a recycling use for its old boxes (burial) and carrier bags (cremation)) Gordon talks to the Sun.

Dressed in a Brazil football kit bearing the legend “All Time Greatest”, Gordon says: “For me, doing the book was important. I just wanted a proper understanding of what I’m about.”

This is Gordon. Gordon the family man – he has four children. Gordon the driver – he plans to buy himself a £170,000 Ferrari for his 40th. Gordon the farmer – he reared and killed pigs in his garden.

Gordon speaks our language. He has the common touch. Vote for Gordon. Or “f*** off”.

Posted: 25th, September 2006 | In: Tabloids Comment | TrackBack | Permalink