The Times Magazine 51with a wink and a jaunty whistle as I trudged
back to the parade ground of the kitchen
again and again. I knew, no matter how many
times I’d got out that damned chopping board
and filled the blasted kettle, he had done it
many more – no cooking fatigue for him.
At times it felt faintly like bullying. But
as the years passed in an endless rotation of
jerk chicken, winter coleslaw, rhubarb pork
with noodles, sausage cassoulet and loads of
banging sauces, I came to the conclusion that
it was all done because Jamie Oliver loves me.
My family care about me a bit, in that they
wouldn’t want the inconvenience of serious
injury to me, or my death, but it’s only Jamie
Oliver who really, truly loves me. Why else
would he have made those Christmas shows
that I still have saved in my TV downloads,
in which he shared with me the secret of his
get-ahead gravy? Why else would he continue
to write books showing me how to spark joy
at dinnertime with an ever decreasing time
allocation and number of ingredients, until
I can make a feast from a single onion in
35 seconds? I doubt he needs any more money,
so he must do it because he loves me.
Maybe one day I would meet him,
I thought. It wasn’t out of the question.
He knows Giles a bit. They play cards. But
what would I say? It would be embarrassing.
Perhaps best not.
Then I did meet him, at a party. Prepped by
my conflicted husband, Jamie Oliver said only,
“Come ’ere, then!” and we hugged. He wasmanly yet fragrant and all the things I’d thought
he might be. I managed not to cry but was
unable to speak. It remains the most anticipated
yet least disappointing moment of my life
since the H&M x Isabel Marant collaboration.
I ignore the preposterous audacity of
Giles’s daily complaints that he now, too, has
cooking fatigue from his twice-weekly dinners.
I say only, “You need to get yourself into
training with a nice TV chef.
“Just as long as it’s not Jamie Oliver,” I add.
Because he’s mine. nListen to Giles and Esther’s podcast, Giles Coren
Has No Idea, with new episodes available every
Friday on the Times Radio app, thetimes.co.uk or
wherever you get your podcasts