Amusee Bouch Doctors

It's seven o'clock in the flippin' morning!

We're auditioning for Dad's sous chef.

-Why the sudden interest in cooking? I'm lucky if I can get you to lay the table.

-It'll be on the telly!

It's nothing, it's just local news.

-Letherbridge Tonight are doing a special feature.

-Course they are.

Look, love. I know you're disappointed.

But we agreed. If I'm going to stand any chance of winning,

it's best if you don't do it.

I'm going to get dressed.

OK. 20 minutes preparation time left.

Remember, I can only take one of you with me.

Today, I'm making mini blueberry muffins

with a mango frozen yoghurt compote,

topped with cinnamon crunch and banana crisps.

Is that with a hint of lime?

Yeah.

-I like it.

-Thanks.

And I'm making a deconstructed English breakfast

of poached quails eggs wrapped in bacon on a deep fried crouton.

And a toffee apple and black pudding tower with a hollandaise sauce.

-Very ambitious. Can you pull it off?

-I think I can.

-Where you going?

-I'm going to work.

I thought you had the day off?

That was in the event that I reached the final.

We're short-staffed enough as it is.

-I told Howard I would work until lunchtime.

-You are coming?

Of course she is.

Your mother wants to watch me whup Mrs Tembe, don't you?

I'll be there.

No, no, no.

That is not good enough.

Like this.

Huh? Now you try.

That is better. You see? Practice makes perfect.

Mrs Tembe, I've got patients in 10 minutes.

Not any more. I have asked Dr Clay to cover for you.

It gives us more time to practise for the competition. Please.

No, I won't make it in today.

'Anything I should be aware of?'

Nothing too serious. Just a touch of D&V. I can't risk coming in.

-You want some time off?

-No. 24 hours. Sure I'll be right as rain.

-I meant personal leave.

I'm not sure I get you.

I saw a lot of this when I was in the army.

Then you must have seen a lot of gastric flu. Goodbye, Howard.

It's such a difficult decision.

It's a shame, but I can only take one of you.

And that person is going to be...

..Jack.

Yes! Get in there!

Congratulations, Jack.

Get in there! I'm going to be on telly!

I'm going to be on the telly! I'm going to be on the telly! Come on!

Well done.

-Ooh! Are you waiting for me?

-Actually, no.

I hope you don't mind. I was just looking for somewhere to hide.

KNOCKING

Have you seen Dr Cassidy anywhere?

No, sorry.

Could you tell her I am waiting for her in the staff room?

That woman needs to practise her drizzling.

Will do.

Thanks.

I'm beginning to wish I'd never heard of this wretched competition.

I've had it up to here. If Rob wins, he's going to be unbearable. Not that I want him to lose...

KNOCKING

Nurse Marquez is tied up with an acute angina patient.

Could you cover her last two house calls before lunch?

Erm... No problem.

Dr Cassidy.

Howard. It's cutting it a bit fine, isn't it?

It's an emergency. Well, it is for Mandy's patient.

Anyway, who's going to miss me?

'This is Jed Grey. I can't take your call.

'Please leave a message.'

Jed, hi, it's Daniel. I'm going out of my mind with worry here,

so could you please give me call?

Or, better still, get Zara to call me.

Just get in touch, please. OK?

-Finally! Tea's just about to go cold.

-Hello.

Oh, hello!

Nurse Marquez had an emergency. I hope you don't mind me instead.

Not at all. Good of you to step in.

-Happy birthday?

-Thank you. Although, at my age, I think

birthdays should be tactfully ignored rather than celebrated.

But you know how children like to fuss.

-Not mine. I have to stick a note on the fridge to remind them.

-Oh!

APPLAUSE

Today's judges are food writer and restaurant critic Vaughan Radcliffe

and chef Alex McRanald. His Birmingham restaurant, Hype,

has just been named Regional Restaurant of the Year

for the second year in a row.

Did you get it? Great. Thanks, guys. That's it for now.

Monitor three is down!

Talk to Herbie, then!

Someone move the cable. Fine, give me five.

I hear business is booming.

No thanks to you.

Pippa Simons from Letherbridge Tonight. You must be Winifred and Rob.

-Mrs Winifred Tembe.

-Okey dokey. I've got you down as a police sergeant...

Senior receptionist, also health and safety

infection control co-ordinator.

Super.

Don't just stand there. Aren't you going to give us a hand?

No. I'm not sous chef.

So, Rob, you got anyone here to support you today?

Yeah, this is my daughter Imogen and my son Jack, who's my sous chef.

And my wife Karen should be here any minute.

-MOBILE PHONE BEEPS

-Excuse me. That might be her.

Oh, it is. Ah! Emergency at work.

She's a healthcare professional.

Welcome to the final of Supachef 2012.

These contestants have battled it out for days.

This is their final challenge. So, come on, guys.

Spoil us today. Treat us.

Arouse our animal passions.

And to really test the mettle of our amateur escoffiers,

we have a change in format

with the addition of a preliminary skills round.

In front of you is a raw ingredient

which will form the basis of your recipe.

Real food doesn't come shrink wrapped from supermarkets

and real chefs prepare from scratch.

So, today's challenge is

to take a dish all the way from field to the table.

Remove your covers.

'The teams have been given a skills challenge.

'To draw and prepare a pheasant for cooking in the second round.

'Winifred's assistant today is Elaine.

'Elaine works as a GP here in Letherbridge.'

Me!?

-It is the sous chef's job to do the preparation.

-I'm a vegetarian!

I am not asking you to eat it. The thing is dead.

It is not interested in your politics.

'On Rob's team is his 20-year-old son, Jack.

'Jack recently graduated in law from Letherbridge University.'

Now what are we going to do?

We are going to get this pheasant ready for the pot.

I need a cleaver and a small knife.

You know what you're doing?

When money was tight near payday, your Aunty Ag used to send me

and your Uncle Jeff down to the woods to poach birds.

I have gutted and plucked

more pheasants than you've had hot...dinners.

The one to watch, in my humble opinion.

For what that's worth.

Since when have your opinions ever been humble?

Still bearing a grudge?

Grudges are for losers. Personally, my money's on Winifred.

He is running away with the competition.

The eyes of the nation are upon me. Get on with it!

I can't! He's looking at me.

It is not a he. It is a hen!

Even worse, I'm betraying my sex.

Fine! Stand aside.

That's healing really nicely. Are you still taking the antibiotics?

Faithfully. I've no intention of being housebound

for any longer than is absolutely necessary.

That's a nasty scar.

Ah. My battle scar. I was attacked by a crocodile.

-Get out of here!

-Scout's honour.

We were living in Kenya at the time...

-MOBILE PHONE BEEPS

-Oh, sorry.

-Not important.

-Well, in that case,

have you time for a cup of tea and a slice of cake? It seems a shame to waste it.

Um...

I think you have somewhere you need to be.

I'd love to stay.

On condition you tell me about the crocodile.

'Elaine was forced to sit out the first round, leaving Winifred to complete the task on her own.

'Unfortunately, Winifred has failed to remove the lungs

'from the cavity of the bird.'

A triumph of gusto over gastronomy, I'm afraid.

But an easy mistake to make for an amateur cook.

Although something tells me that Rob's done this before.

Yeah, quite a few times.

-A very professional job.

-Thank you.

How you cook it will be the real test.

Contestants, you have 10 minutes

to get your ingredients and start cooking.

DRAMATIC TV MUSIC

The story got embellished over the years, mainly by Ed.

His version involved him diving into the river

and fighting off the crocodile with his bare hands.

That's so romantic!

Yes. The way I remember it is,

he picked up a bottle of beer from the picnic basket

and lobbed it at the croc's head.

-Africa sounds a lot more exciting than Letherbridge.

-Ah...

Ed worked for Reuters and I was a photographer.

He died last year.

Dozed off during the second test at Headingley

and never woke up. Hmm...

Well, I can think of worse ways to go.

Are your children nearby?

No. Followed in their father's footsteps.

Andrew works for the World Service in the Middle East

and Mark is a diplomatic correspondent in Washington.

You must be ever so proud!

Do you not get to see them much?

I'm a dab hand at Skype.

And I have a lifetime of memories to keep me company.

I can show you some if you have time?

Erm...

Get more potatoes.

Do you think I am cooking for the people of Lilliput?

What's up?

-I don't know what to do with a pheasant.

-What did you do with all those ones you caught?

-I gave them to Auntie Ag.

-And?

I suppose she just put them in a pot with all the vegetables in the garden.

-Well, then.

-We can't do that.

Right. OK, get some onions, carrot, swede,

potatoes and some celery.

-And we'll need to find a fancy name to call it.

-Yes, Chef!

Hi, Sally. Yes, hello. It's Daniel Granger.

Good, thanks. Have you...

Yeah. She's well.

Yes, he's getting bigger by the minute.

DOORBELL

Sally, that's the door, I've got to go. Bye.

'Rob has been a policeman for 30 years

'and is a sergeant with the Letherbridge Constabulary.'

Today I'm preparing...

-(Fricassee).

-A fricassee of pheasant with a pheasant liver mousseline,

er... that is with fondant potatoes,

cream of swede

and carrot mash with a port and cranberry jus.

It's a big ask.

My question is, has he given himself too much to do?

But if he pulls it off, it will be a triumph.

My tastebuds are already quivering with anticipation.

'Winifred is a...receptionist.'

My dish is inspired by a traditional Botswanan recipe.

Chicken in a hole.

My hooks are on tenters. Tell me more.

Excuse me for one second.

No thicker than two centimetres!

I will be cooking a spiced pheasant breast

on a bed of sweet potato fritter,

with curried okra - or ladies' fingers -

plantain game chips

and a delicate green tomato and chilli yoghurt.

Fantastic.

I'm very excited about Winifred's instinctive understanding of fusion.

Her dish sounds like African skies on a plate.

She shows natural ability,

but I have qualms about her flavour combinations.

One too many spices on the tongue?

This is the children's first bonfire night in England.

Mark's in floods of tears because he burnt his hand on a sparkler.

He'd never seen one before.

Look at you there.

Oh, yes. My 50th birthday.

So many people.

And so many of them gone.

Still, we had fun that night.

MOBILE PHONE BEEPS

I'm so sorry.

It's my daughter. Two ticks.

I've a feeling there's somewhere you need to be.

Not really. It's...

My husband is in the final of the Supachef competition.

How thrilling! I saw it this morning on the news.

-It was me who entered it and they picked him.

-Ouch!

Tell me about it.

He's going to be unbearable if he wins.

And do you know what's worse? I don't think I want him to win.

-What sort of person does that make me?

-It makes you a refreshingly honest one.

Anyway, so he's lording it up at the final and I'm...

Keeping an old biddy company on her birthday.

Well, I think that's a no-brainer.

They're not going to miss me.

What if they're hurt? They could both be lying in a hospital somewhere.

-You'd know about it.

-How? She could be unconscious.

-Driving license,

ID, mobile. Trust me, you'd have heard.

She could've taken him abroad. What if she's emigrated? There's nothing I can do about it.

-That's not going to happen.

-We see them every day, though, don't we?

The sad dads begging for tranquilisers, sleeping tablets, anything to dull the...

It's not going to happen to you. Trust me.

'Time is ticking away and now the heat is really on the contestants.'

50 minutes left!

You have curdled it! Throw it away.

Throw it away and start again!

-Yeah, I'm over the moon about my dad making it to the final.

-And your brother?

And my brother.

50 minutes, guys.

Proud of you, son.

Argh!

-Oh, will you stop with the pacing?

-I'm sorry if it's annoying you.

Right. Come on, I'm taking you out to lunch.

Can we concentrate on what's important here, please?

When was the last time you ate a meal properly? You look awful. Grab your stuff.

-I'm going to Jed's. He knows where they are.

-You going to beat it out of him?

-No, I'll explain.

-Father to father.

-I'm not saying it's a bad idea, but shouldn't you wait till you calm down a bit?

Lock up on your way out.

-All set?

-Absolutely. Ooh!

OK!

'Jack has cut his finger with a chopping knife.

'If it's serious, he may be unable to continue.'

It's quite deep. He may need stitches.

Which means he's out of the competition.

-You're joking, aren't you?

-He's right.

I'm afraid the rules don't allow for replacements at this late stage.

I'm afraid I'll also have to withdraw to take Jack to the hospital.

What!? For a couple of stitches?

That was the best case scenario.

There could be tendon injury, nerve damage,

complications from blood loss, not to mention amputation.

Excuse me! Really?

It's my duty as a physician to make sure it doesn't.

To use treatments for the benefits of the ill in accordance to my judgements and my ability.

Hippocratic oath.

Fortunately, as it turned out, he only needed a couple of steri-strips.

Although we couldn't have known that at the time.

'With only 30 minutes to go,

'it is neck and neck between Rob and Winifred.

'And now the heat is really on the contestants.'

Where's your mother?

Sorry. No entry. We're filming.

No, I'm the finalist's wife. And this is his... mum.

Five minutes left!

I suggest you start plating up.

-Finally!

-How's he doing?

'With only four minutes to go, Rob has dropped his plate.'

Rob! Shift yourself.

You've still got four minutes left!

Three minutes left!

It's three minutes. Come on, Rob.

Remember the Black Forest whatsisface. Less is more!

'First up, it's Winifred.

'In the heat, she impressed the judges with her puddings.'

I love the crisp crunch of the skin.

I love the spiciness of the curry.

I love that tang of lime

cutting through the meaty richness of the pheasant.

I love you, Winifred!

The flavour combination is exciting,

but this okra's stringier than a Scotsman's vest.

'Next up is Rob, who has improvised with a tower of pheasant wing,

'served with a port and cranberry jus. Mmm!'

A work of art. A gastronomic Guernica.

Do we need a microscope as well as a knife and fork?

The size is in inverse proportion to the depth of flavour.

It's like a paradox in the mouth.

It's very accomplished cooking.

But I wonder if the onion isn't a tad overpowering?

I thought you might turn up.

-I'm asking nicely, Jed. Where are they?

-They're safe and well.

Safe? What exactly has Zara said?

Joe's my grandson. I have to put his welfare first.

It was nothing! OK? Every parent reaches breaking point.

Zara's blown it out of all proportion.

You sleeping with your best friend's wife -

did she blow that out of all proportion?

Winifred's got skill. There's no doubting it.

-But Rob's raw talent is on another level altogether.

-Nouvelle cuisine - it's old hat.

He has dragged nouvelle cuisine and his missus

kicking and screaming into the 21st century.

But you already know that.

This isn't about the best man winning.

It's about my review.

Your review got my restaurant closed down.

Your lousy sous chef got your restaurant closed down.

I did you a favour.

If it wasn't for me, you would never have got shot of him

-and now be sitting on a raft of awards.

-Your opinion. Again!

My opinion is what I'm paid for.

I may be a harsh critic, but I'm honest and fair

and I never let personal prejudice get the better of my objectivity.

I wonder if you can say the same.

It has been a tough decision. Two extremely talented cooks.

Two outstanding dishes.

But only one of you can be crowned Supachef 2012,

and that chef is...

DRUMROLL

Rob!

SHE WHISTLES

If you un-bar me, I might even give you a good review.

I'll think about it.

Thank you.

I... I don't quite know how I've won this.

This competition has been a rollercoaster ride...

..but I'd like to dedicate this prize to the real chef in my family.

This is for my wife, Karen,

who maybe will let me do a little bit more around the kitchen in future.

Yes... Sergeant Hollins was... well, a worthy opponent.

And as the judges confirmed -

I lost by the teeniest, tiniest of margins.

The teeniest, tiniest of margins.

Will you excuse me?

Rob!

So, is this the hardest thing you've ever done?

No, I was once involved in a really tricky hostage situation...

-Can we start again? ..No, this is the hardest thing you've ever done!

-Is it?

-Oh, right. Now?

-Yeah.

Yeah, winning this competition is by far and away the hardest thing I've ever done in my life.

(Great.)

OK.

Hmm.

HE CHUCKLES

Oh!

So, do you think you were an influence over Rob's cooking?

I don't think so, darling.

-But thank you for a wonderful afternoon.

-Oh, good.

-Excuse me.

-One for the collection, I think.

-OK. Come on!

# You're simply the best

# Better than all the rest... #

KNOCKS ON DOOR Jed!

I know you're there!

For the last time, Daniel, I'm not telling you where they are.

They're here, aren't they?

See for yourself.

I knew it.

-It's Joe's!

-Of course they've been here, but they're not here now.

You have no right to keep them from me. Joe is my son.

And Zara's my daughter.

-Just the fact you're here proves how little you know about parenthood.

-You don't know me.

I know you're a gambler, a thief and a womaniser,

and I hoped for my daughter's sake you'd changed.

I have. You know, not all of this is down to me.

I spent ten years in prison listening to men like you making excuses, bleating the same tune.

It was never their fault, either. I think some self-reflection's in order, Daniel.

Your actions got you into this

and unless you start taking responsibility for them, you may never see Joe again.

And now I'd like you to leave.

Garry's little soldiers might be Olympic swimmers!

It's Che-ryl, actually.

Oh sorry, with an S?

No, with a C.

There's me, banging on about the wedding,

and he's just sat there, knowing full well what he's done!

-Well, what would you do? You're so good at this.

-At what?

This. At counselling!

Your mess, your responsibility.

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