It was with great excitement that we set off to see one of our favourite food heroes Rick Stein, direct from Cornwall via New South Wales live on stage, right here in New Zealand.A familiar sight and sound in our house, Rick's TV shows play with regular rotation on the Food channel. I never tire of seeing the ladies fossicking for samphire, kippers smoking in a medieval outhouse and that big fat man who gets in the boat and almost makes it tip over.
Needless to say, the chef's many fans poured into the Aotea Centre that night. One could safely assume that the mostly 'older' crowd were not hanging out for pension day, given the number of Rick Stein carry bags floating around - a sure sign that they'd paid top dollar for VIP tickets. Presumably not many cakes were baked in Remuera that night.
Perhaps then, the familiar presence of Mark Sainsbury as the interviewer slash local comedian was a welcome sight. But for those of us who came to hear Rick's melodious voice and the enchanting stories he has picked up from years of cooking around the world, Sainsbury presented a more sinister prospect - the handbrake.
Every time Rick launched into a great story in his wonderful accent that I once heard described as 'Cider with Rosie,' Mark was quick to jump in with another question - so tell me about this nightclub you once ran? The channel flicked right back to TV One, 7pm weeknights.
A cheeky cameraman and Rick's chef mate Paul also made their presence felt but no one could deny that Rick was the star of the show. He didn't need to do a lot to impress us frankly. I think everyone in the room was a fan, and how could you not be when the big screen showed clips of him swearing like a sailor on his French Odyssey and hanging off a wharf with a five kilo salmon swinging in a net behind him.
Of course, the show would not be complete without Chalky. Though sadly deceased, the shaggy Jack Russell remains as popular as ever. A video of him attacking a microphone brought the house down. The oldies certainly liked that one! And the Chalky song! Well don't get me started.
Rick described the recipes he made that night just as beautifully as he recites Sir John Betjeman. Take moules mariniere - just gather some cleaned mussels, add chopped garlic, white wine and you're away, or do as the Spanish do and open some tiny pipis right on the flat plate over high heat. Perhaps try cooking a curry in South East Asian style, take lemongrass, galangal, ginger, garlic, chilli, all those wonderfully aromatic ingredients and pour in lashings of coconut milk and then add the freshest John Dory fillets that you bought at the fish market that morning. Heavenly.
As were the smells coming from the stovetop.
The show could have carried on this this way the whole time. Surely this is what the audience had come to see? Just Rick, removed from the telly to become the real, lovely man we had all hoped he was, captivating us with his experiences and the art of simple fresh cooking. And when it did roll like this, it was a fabulous night.
But again, I felt that the experience was compromised when it was announced there was to be an impromptu ready steady cook challenge between Rick and Paul to conclude the evening. Although Paul's finished plate looked spectacular, it was the most uncomfortable audience-participation member I have ever seen who summed up the show. When asked to choose his favourite, he replied 'it's got to be Rick'.
And didn't we all agree.
