My wife and I often watch Nigella Lawson on television. We both enjoy her shows (although I pretend not to) albeit for differing reasons. My wife likes the guilt-free pleasure of Nigella's cooking, the carefree attitude conducive to serving up a tasty treat. I just like to gaze in wonder. (No other woman can make a grown man shudder simply by whisking an egg.) Of course, I cannot reveal my desires; that would be wrong. So, like a child, I pretend to be unmoved. When Nigella says, "deep pleasure awaits" before plunging a knife into a chocolate tart, I roll my eyes, trying my best to look disinterested. But secretly, I love it.
Whether the great woman is rustling up a Sunday roast or getting down and dirty with an apple crumble, Nigella makes you want to eat. Few TV chefs do that; fewer still do it with the allure of someone who hasn't counted a calorie since 1985. The woman knows no bounds when it comes to butter. She thinks nothing of adding a gallon of cream to her potatoes or a fistful of salt to her pies. This reckless abandon just adds to her already weighty sex-appeal. She's naughty. She simply doesn't care. A certified Domestic Goddess rather than a flash in the pan, Nigella can always be relied upon to inspire a midnight trip to the fridge – in my house at least.
Domestic Goddess she may be, but do not be fooled by the endless flirting or the sexual tomfoolery of Nigella's television persona. Our filthy queen of fantastic food has not built an empire on the strength of her eyelashes. She has been making award-winning TV shows and writing best-selling recipe books for over 20 years – to quietly become one of the most successful foodies ever to lick the back of a spoon. How? Because she's good. Of course, she knows her way around a kitchen. Of course, her food is incredible. But most importantly, she knows what you want to eat.
Smart, sassy, and if you ask her nicely, able to knock up a tarte tatin at the drop of a hat. What more do you want? Nigella Lawson is a woman to be treasured. In short: a woman I could take to lunch and quite possibly disappear with for a week. (I realise this makes me sound like a terrible human being but hear this: my wife has already told me she would leave me "in a heartbeat" for her Christmas Crush, Nick Knowles. So don't feel too bad for her.)
This Christmas I know what is going to happen. It's the same every year: at some point during the festivities, among the tinsel, tree and mother-in-law, my wife will say, "Shall we watch Nigella's Christmas special?" I will casually reply, "If you like" – my face hiding a childish grin.
Nigella: At My Table is on Mondays at 8.30pm on BBC2
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