Heston's Gothic Horror Feast (Channel 4)

What sort of horrendous accident befell Heston Blumenthal to turn him into such a pretentious twat? To call a man misguided who attempted to serve snail porridge to truckers and cooks everything with a side order of liquid nitrogen would be kind. So I wont bother. Heston’s Gothic Horror Feast opened with the conceited, self important chef announcing ‘I’m Heston Blumenthal and I run one of the best restaurants in the world’. I suppose if you want bacon and egg ice cream and a visit to your local A&E department after devouring a slice of salmonella on toast, then it probably is.

The show’s format was a tad strange to say the least, part history lecture and part Ready Steady Cook set in Broadmoor. We were treated to little snippets of background information on Dracula, Frankenstein and the Marquis de Sade, to presumably set the meal in context, whilst Blumenthal himself appeared to alternate between being Adam Hart Davis and a culinary Vincent Van Gough, although not quite as sane. The commentary was underpinned by the subtext of the chef asserting he was an evil genius. He may have just as well said ‘I’m a mad bastard’. No one would have disagreed.

‘I want to use all my creative and scientific skills and terrify my guests’ proclaimed Dr Bunsen from the Muppets, just before he served up blood risotto and a coffin full of tits to Nicholas Parsons and Ulrika Johnson. He was also kind enough to re-create a gothic dungeon for them to sit in whilst they ate dinner, presumably this design was based on the toilets in the Little Chef.

First up on the menu was an Amuse Bouche. Anyone even contemplating serving something this stomach churningly pretentious and affected deserves a similar fate to Vlad the Impaler’s victims, and yes I do mean a sharp pointy stick up the arse. This course was basically a fucked about with gin and tonic, potent enough to get everyone so pissed that they didn’t give a rats chuff what the hell they were eating afterwards.

Next up Dr Bunsen visited Transylvania in the ‘educational’ precursor to the starter, where he learns about pigs blood and leeches, and declared ‘I guess he was called the Impaler because he did some some pretty unpleasant things to people’. You don’t say. After fucking about with leeches for half an hour he decided they tasted vile and wasn’t going to serve them after all. Instead, the guests received a mouth watering dish of spelt, blood and snails deep fried and served on a very large cocktail stick with a cross on top, just to keep in with the Gothic theme of course.

The main course was Dr Frankenstein’s monster, based on a medieval recipe of eel and pig pie. But being an ostentatious prick, Heston lays out a skeleton, sticks some beef in the ribs, brains in the skull and a marrowbone/foam concoction down the spine. The sauce was wheeled on in a drip, and the guests said it was delicious. Dickheads.

In a fuck you fairytale ending, Blumenthal served his diners their own edible graves, complete with personalised coffins made out of marzipan and pistachio ice cream, and a death tarot card made out of white chocolate. He disturbingly sawed a Barbie in half so he could fill her breasts with pink chocolate and then put them in the coffin, garnished with raspberry ripple nipples. This was because the Marquis de Sade liked tits. And cakes. Apparently. Yes Heston, because tits and cakes is what the Marquis de Sade is well known for.