9th January:

The old adage runs thus - "those who can't do, teach". A little unfair probably, but it is true to say that for every creative vocation in life there also exists a plethora of critics, reviewers and commentators just waiting to pontificate over the merits of the end product. If those who can't do, teach, then those who can't do or teach presumably review.

Take Gordon Ramsay's latest restaurant in New York. Regardless of what you think of Mr. Ramsay himself, some of the reviews of his latest venture would have you reaching for the rolling pin and taking the 'journalists' in question out the back door for a quiet word. Not that he needs our help, i'm sure. Gael Green of New York magazine wrote "...we are shocked by a leathery lobster ravioli and an unseemly marriage of langoustine tails and maple-infused chicken (not to mention the bill)". So she's clearly not up her own arse at all then.

Perhaps it is human nature or just indicative of a certain collective insecurity that we keep people like Ms. Green in a job. We like having people tell us what is in and what is out, what is good and what is bad. Which is all bollocks, really, when you think about it. I'm even less sure what qualifications one needs to possess in order to apply for the role of 'food critic'. Are you fat, pretentious and a crushing bore? Congratulations, the job is yours! Wasn't Michael Winner a restaurant critic once? Hmmm.....

Maybe I do critics everywhere a disservice but it does seem so much easier in life to pick out the faults when examining the result of someone else's hard graft rather than doing it better yourself. It's an oft-held sneaky suspicion that in behind every snipey comment in a review is a thinly-disguised pang of jealousy because the reviewer never quite made it as a chef/painter/musician/author themself.

Ramsay comes, of course, with a reasonably big reputation and New York critics have secretly been looking forward to pouring cold water on his old-Europe sensibilities, apparently believing that chefs should crawl over broken glass whilst gushing humbly about the privilege of serving food to the Manhattan glitterati rather then telling them to fuck off and get over themselves.

Your congenial host refers to it as the Galloway effect: you might not like Gorgeous George, you might even find him to be a supercilious and rather odious toad of a man, but there was something terrifically satisfying about seeing him appear before that Congress hearing and give them a good old fashioned bollocking.

Wouldn't it be lovely if Gordon did the same?