Well dip me in treacle and call me Delia - it's Thursday already, which means it must be the penultimate part of the final week of the longest cooking show in the WORLD.
Yesterday, our talented trio cooked for soldiers, did some training in London restaurants, and then knocked up a perfect main course. Which saw Gregg and John cranking up their effusiveness to previously unseen levels, albeit still not stretching themselves beyond the words 'fantastic' and 'incredible'.
Tonight, it's about to get tougher. Which means there will be more cooking and no-one will be fired.
I'll be here from 8-9pm on BBC1 to add a little bit of garnish to proceedings, so do join by adding some lightly toasted and seasoned comments in the box below, and don't forget to click refresh every now and then for updates.
So yesterday, Mark Moraghan (still never heard of him) found some inner calm and stopped flapping about like a chicken that is about to be poached and roasted. Liz McClarnon (who, incase you missed it, had never so much as unwrapped a Dairylea triangle prior to this show) starting having fun and can now make restaurant-standard food, even through a giant curtain of hair. And Andi Peters got his head round the concept of presentation AND flavour (Both! I KNOW!), but still looks like he could go into a perfectionist's meltdown at any moment. Telly legend, though.
Tonight, we are told (cue PR blurb):
"In Thursday's penultimate show, the three finalists are flown 6,000 miles to the Mozambique border to cook in intense heat at one of the world's most exclusive resorts. "
Insert the following missing phrases: "at the licence-payers expense", "for no valid reason whatsoever" and "demonstrating that the BBC are doing everything they can to reduce their carbon footprint". I'm also not sure why it's important to tell us that they're on the border. Perhaps it's an exclusive resort for immigration officials?
Anyhoo, back to the PR blurb:
"They then return to London and must cook a three course meal at the two Michelin star restaurant 'Petrus' for some of the country's most accomplished chefs - including the 2* Michel Roux Jnr and 2* John Campbell."
Ooh, now that's quite exciting, because even though I'm not a Michelin star kind of girl (although I'm clearly open to offers), I HAVE been to Petrus. I had a very swanky nine course chef's table lunch there about two months ago and it was amaaaazing. Especially as work were paying. No, not the Guardian (hahahaha), my proper job. I do have one, you know.
And at the end of tonight's show (drum roll....), NO-ONE gets voted off. Not one single celeb. Although possibly four more celebrities will be put in, in a Big Brother stylee. Only kidding. God, wouldn't that be cruel?
BUT they have promised us they WILL crown a winner tomorrow, so the celebs are running out of time to prove that they are worthy of a cooking slot on GMTV (probably), and the opportunity to sign autographs at the BBC Good Food Show (definitely).
Back at 8!
20:00: Oooh, Gok is fashion fixing Dannii Minogue on Channel 4! Can we...no, never mind.
We're off! It's their toughest challenge yet (yawn). And, as pointed out by the delectable Anna Pickard yesterday, "it's a good thing there are only three more days, because if everything continued to get tougher at this rate they'd be stirring boiling soup with their genitals and having to carve their own tin-openers out of wood before you know it". And I don't think we need to see the genital stirring, or indeed consider the logistics of how Liz might manage it.
Anyhoo, here we go. Gregg and John are shouting uncharismatically. The final is almost upon them, says M&S woman. I thought the final had been going on for weeks? Years, maybe?
They have gone to Africa, to an exclusive safari lodge, where guests pay up to £1,500 a night. Ah, so THAT's why they have to fly 6,000 miles, because only in Africa will a hotel of that standard be found. Hmm.
Their kitchen has only barrel barbecues and gas burners, and they have two hours to cook a three course meal for 8 rangers, using unfamiliar ingredients. Right, so not for guests paying £1,500 a night then.
How pointless is this?
Andi hasn't cooked outside in years, he tells us - he's doing fish. As we know, Andi is technically brilliant but sometimes sacrifices flavour for technique. Mark is cooking springbok, he is a passionate cook but disorganised, and flaps a lot.
Hahah, I've just seen Gregg's outfit. He looks like an extra from It Ain't Half Hot Mum.
Liz is on pudding duty, and is cooking floating meringues in creme anglais and some colulis or other. With sugar shards. Oh, bung 'em a Viennetta with teddy wafers. They'll love it.
Back come the rangers, which is the cue to empty the BBC wildlife shot library and crank up the dance music.
20:13: Andi hasn't yet finished his mango chutney or salsa. Liz has stuffed up her sugar shards, because she heated the sugar to 166 degrees farenheit, rather than celsius. Andi looks at her like she's a total moron. Yeah, like HE knew. As punishment for being unsporting, his starter of small snook and other stuff is late, so the proper chefs have to bail him out.
Mark is sweating profusely on the main course, let's hope they don't add extra salt. His brain appears to be fried. It's crayfish and springbok, served on thyme. That sounds vile, thyme is far too strong for game. Oh, on TIME. Dur.
Liz's pudding looks fab, and her second attempt at sugar shards has been a success. Having been very complimentary about the starter and the main course, will they love the pudding? Of course they do. It's a bloody meringue, what's not to love?
20:21: Clinton (who is, by the way, complete totty), is happy to let them cook in his restaurant. Which is just as well, otherwise it would have been a completely wasted trip, wouldn't it? Oh, hang on.
Mark is in charge of lamb with mash, four veg and a jus. Andi is doing guinea fowl, and Liz is doing pork with pork and a vegetable salad, which I'm sure is what the M&S woman just said, but I might be losing it.
Ooh, drama. Andi is having a reaction to his anti-malaria tablets. His legs feel like jelly and he's shivering, bless him.
Clinton's had to get someone else in to do Andi's prep, but he's back for cooking. It's 48 degrees in the kitchen, but we're not clear if that's farenheit or celsius. Gregg says that if they do this well, they all deserve the title. Umm, NO, Gregg. We've all stuck at this for fricking WEEKS, at least you can give us a winner.
And....cue Fedde Le Grand.
20:28:: Halfway through service, and there's a rush on lamb. Mark starts to flap, but the verdict is that it's the best lamb the customer has ever had. Must be the extra sweat coulis.
Andi's still feeling a bit poorly but is being a trooper. Liz can do no wrong. Is she going to win this, do you think? She just might, you know.
Gregg reminds us that these guys are not chefs, they are celebrities back home. Well....that's stretching it a bit, isn't it? But, if you say so.
Cute Clinton declares Mark to be his favourite which, as Gregg tells us, throws a cat amongst he pigeons. They are running out of time to decide who the Masterchef champion will be.
36 hours later, they are back in London, and about to face their TOUGHEST CHALLENGE YET. What, again?
It's time to cook in Petrus, at the Berkeley. Me! I have been there!
20:34: They are cooking for their lives, says Andi. Hmm, well...no. Unless there's a whole element to this show I'm missing.
They are all doing a course each, and it all looks incredibly complicated. There is soup, and foie gras, rabbit, and afternoon tea. But it's all posh and fiddly and gorgeous looking. And Marcus Wareing is looming over them like, well, god, possibly.
Mark is boning a rabbit. Which...no, I won't. Andi is making meringues, which involves some precision piping. Liz has burnt her tomatoes, and Mark is faffing with his tortellii. Andi is making egg custard tart, which is a nightmare to make (trust me, I know).
Liz is stressing, she's running out of time and wants to cry. Andi is working methodically, and seems to be quite together.
20:43: Marcus Wareing is very nice, isn't he? Isn't he a Ramsay protegee? I want shouting and swearing and kicking of ass.
In the dining room, to ill-placed opera, five of the greatest chefs of their generation arrive. Michel Roux Jr, Phillip Howard, John Campbell, Richard Corrigan, and Atul Kochar.
It's time to serve, but Liz's foccacia is still in the oven. Marcus sends her out into the restaurant to bat her eyelids and beg for forgiveness.
It's all OK - her foie gras has set, her soup looks lovely, her foccacia is focached. But she still wants to cry. It's a posh ploughmans, apparently, but lacks cheese and pickled onions if you ask me.
The chefs are impressed, and can't believe she did it all herself. She comes into the restaurant and assumes the voice of a 5-year-old girl to ask if they liked it, and gets a nice pat on the head in return.
20:48: Mark's sauce is all going wrong, and oh my god, he's walked out! He's just says 'stick it up your fucking arse' and walks out. Marcus goes looking for him in the street.
Oh, he's back. The pressure has got to him, and he flipped. But he's back in the kitchen and determined to deliver lunch. Which is just as well, as the chefs are waiting for it. And no-one likes a hungry chef.
After all that, his lunch is lovely, and as far as we are aware has not been up anyone's actual arse. He apologises to the chefs, and they give him a bit of a telling off.
Yeah, he's not going to win this, is he? Not the best plan of action in front of 5 Michelin-starred chefs to run away. Quite funny though.
20:55:: Andi has come up with a solution for his rubbish scones, and has cooked a blinding custard tart. He's a happy boy, and the chefs are gorging on his afternoon tea feast. Everything was mindblowing, he is told. Good man, he's been my fave to win since the first show and I'm still backing him all the way.
And that's it. They all did really well, apart from Mark's meltdown. Tomorrow, it's THE FINAL!!! Not the final week, or the final round, but the actual FINAL!!! They have to knock up a shit-hot dinner, and someone will WIN!
Thank god for that.
Scrummy Anna is back to see us through to the end from 8.30pm tomorrow, which is not to be missed, I feel. I'll be here, or down there, at least.
Thanks for joining in - night all! Hx
