1970s Hairy Bikers' Best of British

We believe Britain has the best food in the world.

'Our glorious country boasts some fantastic ingredients...'

Start eating it, will you!

'..it's home to some amazing producers...'

-My goodness gracious, that is epic!

-Isn't it?

'..and innovative chefs.'

'But our islands also have a fascinating food history...'

The fish and chip shops of south Wales are running out of chips.

-BOTH:

-Yes!

'..and in this series we're uncovering revealing stories

'of our rich culinary past...'

Now, there is food history on a plate.

'..as well as meeting our nation's food heroes

'who are keeping this heritage alive...'

They're certainly enjoying themselves.

It's a short life, let's make it a happy one,

like they always have had.

'..and, of course, we'll be cooking up a load of dishes

'that reveal our foodie evolution.'

Spring, summer, autumn or winter - it's brilliant.

-BOTH:

-Quite simply, the best of British!

Now, the 1970s aren't everybody's cup of tea

when it comes to British cuisine but we love '70s food.

It was exciting, generous, sometimes a bit weird

and even sometimes went into the whole sci-fi thing.

Oh, but mostly it was downright delicious.

It was the decade that delivered vol-au-vents,

Baked Alaska, Angel Delight.

Restaurants had the flair to serve up hearty portions

smothered in brandy and cream, with massive trifles and huge cakes.

It was the decade of disco

and, I tell you what, there were some foodie hits in there as well.

Oh, steak tartar, salmon mousse,

at number two we've got chicken chasseur

and at number one beef stroganoff.

What's not to love, baby? Woo-hoo!

So, today's show is about celebrating what the decade

of the 1970s brought to our national plate.

Here, Kingy, are you dancing?

No.

On today's show we're going to be exploring the best of the 1970s.

From the amazing new influences that made their mark on our cuisine.

To the techno foods that became kitsch favourites.

You're clearly a most primitive people.

And in the Best Of British kitchen we'll be cooking up dishes that

still have the power to impress.

From rich iconic main courses...

..to international favourites.

In an explosion of flavour, extravagance

and calories that only the '70s could offer.

We're going to show you how this much maligned foodie decade

was really, in some ways, the best of British.

'Ten...nine...ignition sequence starts.

'Five...four...three...two...one... zero. All engines on.'

The '70s began in the shadow of the moon landing.

# There's a star man waiting in the sky

# He'd like to come and meet us but he thinks he'd blow our minds... #

A momentous event that rocked the world.

'Here men from the planet Earth first set foot on the moon.

'July, 1969.'

We were a nation excited by the future,

revelling in what man could achieve.

Anything was possible.

We'd mastered physics and broken the grip of Earth's gravity.

These astronauts had gone where no man had gone before.

MUSIC: "Where No Man Has Gone Before" by Alexander Courage

And what was it everyone wanted to know?

Urine is carried away down a tube to plastic bags

and is dumped directly overboard, into space.

That's right, how they went to the toilet

and what they ate for their tea.

Food for the astronauts comes in this form...

in a plastic bag.

It's freeze-dried.

With a water gun they inject a certain amount of water,

shake it around, reconstitute it and suck it up through a tube.

Space food was the stuff of dreams for young whipper snappers

like us in the 1970s.

One meal for two astronauts.

Meet, two veg, pudding and an orange drink.

We wanted to chow down like Buck Rodgers!

By a method of freezing and dehydration

the chefs of Natick have devised some fine sounding dishes

for today's astronaut to choose from.

We have everything ranging from shrimp cocktail to beef sandwiches

and we have a banana pudding, here.

Like all good chefs, the men of Natick always sample their own

creations before passing them on to the consumer.

To date the delights contained in these plastic containers

are secrets shared only by the men who make them

and the men who travel in space capsules.

But back in Britain we had, through the miracle of science,

come up with our very own space food.

-BOTH:

-Smash!

Captain, something strange has appeared on the Earth scanner.

Let me observe.

It was a product perfectly suited to this brave new world.

That is good.

Potatoes are a horrible, inconvenient food -

they're knobbly, they're dirty, they need peeling,

they never boil when you want them.

Now, instant potato is a marvellous advance

and, technically, it's very good.

Some of the modern ones are admirable.

-THEY ALL LAUGH

-Clearly, a most primitive people.

# For mash get Smash. #

Instant and convenience became by-words for 1970s cuisine.

'Birds Angel Delight, the most delightful taste around.'

Just add water and whisk. What could be simpler?

None of that time consuming preparation to do.

'Made in 10 minutes and no baking.

'Greens, the one word recipe for cheesecake.'

And, supposedly, just as good as the real thing.

-And look at this, sir.

-No peel, no bits and it's got vitamin C?!

We lapped it up.

'New Kellogg's Rise and Shine, now tastes as good as orange juice.'

And then, towards the end of the decade - the future was realised.

In 1977 Golden Wonder launched this.

-BOTH:

-The Pot Noodle!

The ultimate instant snack - a meal in a pot.

And the culmination of a decade of food science.

Well OK, maybe not,

but for a nation whose lives were getting busier and busier,

these ultra-quick convenience foods were the answer

to many people's prayers.

And for us kids it was science fiction brought to life.

Dude, it was out of this world!

And added just a little bit of astronaut glamour to our meal times.

Instant food might not have the best reputation these days

but there was one particular favourite of ours,

that changed everything.

It was Vestas that redefined the 1970s Oriental gutbuster!

Get in!

But the Vesta was the first frugal,

humble footsteps into a love of Oriental Asian food for a lot of us.

-Absolutely.

-We want to cook our version of a pork chow mein.

In the 1970s our palates were opened up

as the flavours of the East went mainstream.

And if chop suey was the Chinese food of the masses,

the chow mein was the choice of the gourmet.

Now, what we're doing is chow mein.

What we're going to do is a pork fillet,

I'm going to just trim that off

and then I'll show you what to do in a minute.

I have a pan of boiling water.

Into that I'm going to put me egg noodles and what you want to do is,

first, is read the packet because they vary.

These ones, they need boiling for two minutes. Some are four minutes.

If you boil these for four they'd be wrecked.

We want 200 grams, which is half a packet.

These are the proper thing for your chow mein.

Two, three. I love chow mein.

I think, if you like noodles, it's brilliant.

-Here, Kingy, what you call a fake noodle?

-I don't know.

An im-pasta! Ha!

Two minutes. Now, just stir them till they break up.

Then run them in cold water, flush them with sunflower oil

and set them aside.

Right, once you've trimmed this up, what we're going to do,

we're going to cut it lengthways, in half.

Mmm.

And then...

we're going to slice it but we're going to slice it quite finely.

Do you know, Kingy, chow mein, in Chinese,

just means fried noodles.

And chop suey, the words, means miscellaneous bits.

But ours is going to be a lot more than that!

Put two teaspoons of cornflour into a bowl,

and add four tablespoons of dark soy sauce,

two tablespoons of mirin or dry sherry and 100ml of water.

Give it a quick stir and set it aside for later.

Once your noodles are cooked give them a good rinse under cold water.

I love Chinese food. I love Chinese cooking.

I've got a mate of mine that runs a Chinese restaurant

and I love going down there, and he lets me help out at the wok range.

And is like this mad labyrinth of woks full of fire and water,

and it's so immediate, and you get everything ready.

I think that's the nature of Chinese food

and, also, cooking your chow mein,

is you prepare all the different elements

like the meat, vegetables, the sauce, the noodles,

and, at the last minute, you combine everything,

and you have something really special.

Pour a tablespoon of sunflower oil over them

and make sure they are fully coated.'

Now, to your chopped pork.

Add one teaspoon of five spice and season generously with salt

and pepper, before working it into the meat.

-Si.

-Yes, mate?

Can you remember the first time you tried Chinese food and what was it?

I do, I remember there was a restaurant called The Blue Sky

and it was, oh, fantastic! Truly fantastic.

It's hard to overestimate how exotic it was in those days.

Heat a glug of oil in a non-stick pan or wok,

and stir fry the pork over a high heat.

Cut a carrot into long thin strips and do the same to a red pepper.

Finely slice a 25gram chunk of ginger, six spring onions

and three cloves of garlic.

You also want 50 grams of frozen peas

and 200 grams of halved water chestnuts at the ready.

Once the pork is browned, tip it onto a plate.

Add a dash more oil to the wok and fry off the peppers and carrots

before adding the rest of your veg.

Keep frying for a couple more minutes,

until softened but not soggy.

Oh, and whilst you fry it shall I do the noodle garnish?

-Go on, mate, get in.

-A little saute pan. Thank you.

Now, this is a 15 second job for the garnish.

Now, these are rice noodles, the sort you'd have, say, for Pad Thai.

Just snap up a load...

..separate them...

and, if we put them into the hot fat,

it in 15 seconds we should have a wonderful bird's nest.

Oh, yes.

They'll bubble up.

They'll expand, just like those polystyrene tiles

we used to glue on the kitchen ceiling.

Yeah, what was all that about? That and woodchip! Bleeding Nora!

But polystyrene tiles, you see, the thing is,

if your ceiling was falling down or a mess,

-you put those tiles up and it looked immaculate.

-It did, like.

Kept the insulation, sound, everything.

-They just looked revolting.

-They did.

And gave 21st-century somebody to moan about

-when you bought your new house.

-They did, it's true.

-Beautiful. I think we're there.

-I think we're there.

Now empty your veggies out of the wok onto a plate.

-These are quite good for the wok, aren't they?

-Yes.

The more we build up.

The more we build up, the more ingredients that go in.

Another glug of oil and drop in your cold egg noodles.

Keep them moving round the wok for about 2-3 minutes,

till they are just beginning to go crisp and golden.

Once the pan is hot, drop in your broken rice ribbon noodles

and fry them until they puff up.

And now it all comes together in a flurry.

Veg and meat goes in now.

-Look at these, mate!

-Get in!

-Whoa!

Look at this.

-Meat?

-Aye. Ah! And watch this oil, it is hot.

But who cares? I'm having such a good time!

It's good, man, it's quick, it's instant, it's fast, I love it!

Oh, it is.

And, don't forget, preparation is in the art of enjoyment in the kitchen.

If you're too stressed to be able to do anything, what's the point?

Yeah, just get your mise en place sorted then go for it.

Worry about the washing-up after.

-Time for the sauce, Si?

-Get it in.

-Whoa-ho!

-Oh, man!

-Hairy Biker's pork chow mein.

Our homage to a dish that shaped a nation.

-I think we're there, mate.

-We're there, mate, we are, defo.

While it's steaming hot, get it into a bowl

and top it off with the fried noodles.

Right, come on.

It looks the same. It's really good!

Here, Kingy, it's taken 40 years from that '70s box to come to this.

But, as they would have said in the '70s, that's dead ace!

The pork chow mein, an unbelievably tasty dish.

And a testament to the 1970's spirit of culinary adventure.

The 1970s were an exciting time for the foodie.

Lots of new flavours and textures were being introduced from abroad,

as immigrant communities started to make their mark on British cuisine.

Having already seen waves of immigration from the West Indies

and the Indian subcontinent,

1972 then saw the arrival of tens of thousands of Ugandan Asians

fleeing the regime of Idi Amin.

The Majothi's we're one of the families that,

from 1972, called the UK home.

And, for teenager Abdul, it was a huge departure

from life back in Uganda.

We ended up in Somerset, in a military camp, disused,

as refugees and it was quite a blow for my father,

who was a very successful businessmen.

Employed over 250 people exporting coffee to Germany.

He had a grocery store and a little bit of a transport business,

and he became a pauper overnight.

He became penniless in a country that we never knew anything about.

But once settled in nearby Bristol,

Abdul's businessman father was quick to seize any opportunity

to help the family establish themselves.

You know, there were many takeaways, Indian takeaways,

or Mediterranean, or Mexican, nothing.

Mainly Chinese or English and my father found a little niche

in the market that if he did his curries people would love it.

He might have found a niche market but, as a penniless migrant,

the main problem was how to get the business underway.

Enter a deep fried triangular pastry with a spicy meat or veg filling

that's now is probably as popular as a pasty.

He actually started cooking from home

and one of the things he found that people loved was samosas

and my mother helped a lot also, cooking at night.

You know, they used to cook for festivals

and I can remember sometimes they used to cook till midnight

and in the morning they would fry the samosas.

He would take them on the bus and the smell,

you know, I can't imagine what it was like in 1973.

Either people liked it or they must have given him a strange look

saying, "You know, what's all this smell?" They would sell

within half an hour and he would come back on the bus again, home.

It would take him an hour or two.

Get my mum to fry some more, go back on the bus and soon,

when he got the shop, samosas was the fastest selling item

and we were known for it.

And the business built up from there,

and then he was into currys,

then he started bringing in the Indian sweets

and hence we are called Sweetmart.

Tapping into this lucrative ethnic food market has seen

the Majothi's business explode from a small grocery-come-deli

into a food store that pretty much stocks everything under the sun.

But if it ain't broke don't fix it and the samosas that kicked

all this off - to this day - follow the same tried and tested formula.

The recipes we use on the currys

and especially the samosas is still, still 35 years on,

that's what my mum used to cook in Uganda.

I can remember as a young child eating the samosas back home

and what I eat now is still the same.

Handed down through generations, Abdul's sister-in-law Tehseen

is the latest member of the family to oversee preparations

for this pivotal pocket pastry.

Well, for me, a good samosa would really be a samosa

which has a perfect triangular shape,

it's fried to that golden crisp colour, and texture,

and, when I bite into it, not only do I taste the ingredients,

all the spices and all,

but I shouldn't be tasting any of the greasiness

or oil that tends to seep in if the samosas hasn't been sealed properly.

She's ticking all my samosa boxes, Kingy!

But the '70s was all about exposure to new flavours and the Ugandan

Asians, with Africa and India to call upon came well-armed.

It's time for the spices to go in and I'm going to put turmeric...

..followed by some garam masala,

which is actually a secret recipe created by my father-in-law.

Garam masala usually has nine spices

but our blend has got about 17 spices.

In that goes...followed by a fresh green chillies...

..and salt.

Once the veg and spices are in, Tehseen mixes in potato,

raw onion and fresh coriander to complete the age old recipe.

But when it comes to pastry,

she's more than prepared to cut a few corners!

My mother-in-law used to go through a laborious process of making

the pastry herself, which takes ages,

it takes a lot of effort

and today we have a ready-made Samosa pastry

and if only we had that back in the '70s,

it would have made life a lot easier.

Obviously, you need a paste to bind the whole samosa together.

And, er, just fry till golden brown.

Whilst in the 1970s, the samosa might have been as alien

to most of us Brits as a pasty to a Klingon,

immigrants like the Majothis have boldly gone

where no other Brit dared to go...

Opening up new foodie frontiers for us all to explore!

I can remember in the 1970s, if there were one or two chillies

left in a basket at the shop, I would give it free

to the English customer. They would say,

"No, no, no, I can't touch that."

Today they buy a kilo and they know what kind of chillies they want.

So, the British people are amazing that they've accepted

the different kind of spices and chillies from all over the world.

In doing that, I think the immigrants have also been accepted.

I think 1970s was a turning point

for a huge food revolution in Britain,

and we're proud to have played a part in it.

Now samosas are probably more popular today than ever.

But what of the classic 70s dishes -

the chasseurs, duck a l'orange and the wellington?

Well, in a corner of London, there's a restaurant

where these dishes are alive and kicking.

Hidden away in this unassuming tower block

is one of Britain's best kept foodie secrets.

It's a restaurant that has long been a firm favourite

of A-list politicians, royalty and celebrities alike.

So, what is it, David? Is it Asian fusion, is it macrobiotic?

Is it astronomy gastronomy? What is it, darling?

I suppose one could describe it as pure culinary aspic.

-Hey!

-It's an eatery that, for the past 40 years,

has been frozen in time.

It's a living celebration of the generous, delicious food

that was served in the majority of high end 1970s restaurants.

And that's why we're here - to find out the great secrets

of that 70s cuisine - from the last great practitioners in the country.

This family-run restaurant was founded by the Sanchez brothers.

And it's something of a local legend.

Because Oslo Court is pure '70s old school! From the silver service...

..to the peach decor.

The ladies menu with no prices on it.

And the dessert trolley that still reigns supreme!

The restaurant is one of the last places around

that specialises in classic '70s cuisine.

The menu hasn't changed since they first opened

because the customers can't get enough of it.

But you can forget bad steak and burnt chips!

This place serves up dishes that show off the very best

of the 70s and what it had to offer!

Chef Jose is going to take us through three '70s classics

that have been with them since the beginning.

Where is he? How are you?

-Hello, Jose.

-Jose, how are you?

Very well indeed.

Thank you very much.

-Busy as usual.

-As always.

It's fair to say, Jose, that things haven't changed much

round here in 40 years, have they?

A lot of our customers know what to expect when they come

and that's why they rate the restaurant so highly.

A lot of places keep chopping and changing menus

and people know exactly what they're going to get every time they come.

Would you like to change it or are you happy?

No, I'm very happy with how things are going. It's very traditional.

We are extremely busy. Why change something if it's not broken?

I mean, on a Saturday, you're looking six months in advance.

We have people that come every Christmas -

so, literally book for next year already.

Yeah, up till now, touch wood, it's quite recession-proof.

So, what three iconic 70s dishes are we cooking today?

The most iconic 70s dish is probably the pink grapefruit

served with the sherry and sugar on top.

-OK.

-And Crab A La Rochelle, which is one of the specialties of the house.

We're got two great starters. What's the main event?

I would probably say Beef Wellington.

-Yeah.

-Shall we crack on? Can we give you a hand?

-No problem. Of course you can.

First up is starter Crab A La Rochelle.

In the 1970s, the nation fell in love with decadent

and glamorous French cooking.

It's got crab, prawns, onions, white wine, mushrooms and cream,

all topped with a rosemary and brandy sauce!

How's that for 70s exuberance!

It's fair to say as well that your portions are very generous, aren't they?

We're known for generous portions.

The '70s were the age of having everything en croute,

but the king of them all was the Beef Wellington.

-So, er, now, we're going to start with Beef Wellington.

-Right.

-Yeah.

-Beef Wellington was the premier party dish of the '70s.

Like all good dishes of the era, it was dramatic, pretty expensive

and time consuming to prepare.

The more gourmet, the better.

Unfussed by changing fashions,

even the way they buy their food is the same as it ever was.

Jose, it's a restaurant with great traditions.

Whereabouts do you get your meat and produce from?

We go and buy most of our veg from new Covent Garden market.

We go to the fish market - Billingsgate market -

and we go to Smithfield's to buy our meat.

Great food, all yours, boys!

We'll go and see your auntie.

-How are you?

-I'm fine. How are you?

Jose's Auntie Maria has worked at the restaurant since the beginning.

Maria, tell Dave and I what the restaurant means to you.

You want to make me cry. It's our passion. We love it.

-It's coming from the heart. We do it with love.

-Yeah.

It's everything to us. We love the restaurant, the clientele,

our customers, so, maybe, I don't know.

We live for the restaurant really. This is our life.

-Yes.

-I think our enjoyment is here.

Maria's making the classic 70s grilled grapefruit

with sugar and sherry.

The 70s were a boom time for grapefruit.

Not only were they more widely available

thanks to the spread of supermarkets,

but they still had a touch of the exotic about them.

And this being the 70s,

the way to eat this healthy fruit was super sweet and full of booze.

Now, we have to have a go on those!

Ah, it's brilliant!

We buy the best we can. We cook the best we know

and we do it with heart.

Two iconic starters. Fabulously done.

The Beef Wellington - how's that coming on?

Literally wrap it and we're there.

As if perfectly cooked roast beef wasn't calorie-laden enough,

in true 1970s style, it's all wrapped up in buttery pastry,

pate and a mushroom duxelle.

This dish is unapologetically rich and pretty mouth watering!

I mean, it's 4:30pm but I've just noticed now,

you've got to get on with some scallops

because you're still doing luncheon orders.

Still there - lunch. Believe it or not.

The speed at which you do it is just great.

It's like literally straight from the pan

straight on to the serving dish and straight out.

That's why they come back.

It's not only just the food that harks back to an earlier era,

founder Tony believes the atmosphere is at the heart

of the restaurant's success.

Tony, do you ever sense that Oslo Court has been stuck in a time warp

or to you is it just right the way things should be?

I think it's still the 70s, in the sense that

the way people feel, and the type of clientele we have.

At the end of the day, it's only a restaurant.

To feel that kind of feeling of be confident -

that you're going to have a good meal and a good drink

and you can sit and stand back and say, "OK, I'm going to be served."

-And it's fun.

-It's fun.

Tony and his family have created a menu of classic '70s dishes,

cooked with classic '70s panache.

And Jose's Beef Wellington is a real treat.

-Ah! Bon appetite!

-That's perfect, Jose.

Aw!

Oh, I'm melting to the bottom of my split kneed loon pants.

-That is fantastic!

-That duxelle's fabulous. The meat's fabulous.

It is. It's cooked perfectly.

You know, Kingy, food fashions, they come and go,

but Oslo Court, it's here, and it's here to stay.

The thing is, it's a classic testament to,

if it ain't broke, don't fix it.

This place is a celebration

of everything that was right with the 1970s.

When you eat here, you realise that, while culinary fashions come and go,

good food is timeless.

Seeing that dishes from the glam rock era

still have some life in them has given us a bit of inspiration.

We're going to take all that joyously extravagant indulgence

and pile it into a '70s classic of our own.

The 1970s was the golden age for desserts.

That dessert trolley, nay, chariot,

was laden down with sweet, cream-laden delights.

Desserts in those days were loud, proud and magnificent.

And none less so than...

..the banoffee pie!

If ever there was a dessert that encapsulates the indulgence

and decadence of the 1970s, then it's this!

Come on, Kingy, it's half fruit!

Yes, mate, but it's the other half I'm talking about!

You thought it was American, didn't you? Well, it's not.

It's from our shores and it's on our trolley and we invented it

and it comes from East Sussex.

Actually, ours is slightly lighter, not quite so sweet,

-to make it suitable for the 21st century.

-Oooh, yes.

I still start with a biscuit base, all mushed up with butter, though.

-Should I crunch?

-Yes, you crunch, and I'll make the filling.

-Oooh!

-So, I've got 115 grams of butter.

And then I need some dark brown sugar

and I've got 115 grams of that as well.

Put that in with the butter and stir continuously.

Until the butter

and the sugar have amalgamated in a marriage of calorific heaven.

Mmm! It's the good life!

Now, take one packet of chocolate-coated oaty biscuits,

place it in your pot, and whiz till crumbs.

Now, there's a little trick to tell you when the butter

and the sugar has combined and the sugar crystals have melted.

What happens is that, can you see?

The fat there is sitting on top of the sugar crystal.

It's ready when there is no fat sitting on the top of the sugar.

One big bowl of chocolatey, oaty crumbs.

Into that go 75 grams of melted butter to coat

each and every one of those crumbs.

It is funny, though, isn't it, how the Americans have kind of taken the credit for the banoffee pie?

But the truth is that the banoffee pie was invented by Ian Dowding

and Nigel Mackenzie, who were chefs

and patrons at the Hungry Monk Restaurant in Jevington.

And there is a blue plaque on that building to the day that says

it was the birthplace of the banoffee pie.

Just put the crumbs into a dish.

Scatter and then press down to form the base of your banoffee pie.

Once the oil has vanished from the top of your butter-sugar mix,

add a can of sweetened condensed milk and keep stirring.

Right, look at that. That's the base for banoffee pie and it's delicious.

Pop that in the fridge, and wait for it to set. Wait for his topping.

Now, look, you can see the colour it's gone.

We need to cook that until it goes a beautiful deep unctuous

golden brown that you love and know is the toffee in a Banoffee.

Do you know, the funny thing is, in 1994,

a lot of supermarkets started selling banoffee pie as American Pie.

Well, Nigel McKenzie, who invented it,

was quite rightly very incensed and he offered a £10,000 prize

to anybody who could produce a recipe, published before 1972,

to prove that it wasn't invented at the Hungry Monk.

Nigel's still got his ten grand.

Nice one, Nige! If you've made it, reclaim it as your own.

Because it's yours and we hold our hands up to you. It's brilliant.

Yeah, it is nice, isn't it?

After about three minutes, your mixture should be a deep,

creamy, caramel brown.

Cover your biscuit base and gently smooth it into all the nooks and crannies.

What was your favourite game in the '70s? I used to have Mousetrap.

-Do you remember that?

-I do!

-It was brilliant, wasn't it?

-Kerplunk, remember that?

-Kerplunk! Oh, I loved Kerplunk.

Can you imagine the ecstasy of being able to play Kerplunk

while your banoffee pie sets?

No need to imagine, mate. We're in telly land!

-I'll toss you for who goes first.

-Heads.

-Heads it is.

-Ahhhh!

-Yes! Get in!

Oh, no!

That's loads.

Ah, I've got the golden ball! That's me, the winner! Yay, I win! Come on!

Victory! Ba-ba-bah!

-Amen!

-Ah, mint!

-It's changed colour, look at that.

Put it over your friend's head and it won't fall out! Like that.

Now, what we're going to do, I'm going to peel five bananas, me!

I'm going to whip some cream.

Whoa!

Pour 450 millilitres of double cream into a bowl and get whipping.

Doing it by hand will give you a bit of a workout before you indulge.

Diagonally chop four ripe but firm bananas,

and scatter half of them across your base, willy-nilly.

I'm bored of doing it by hand.

MIXER WHIZZES

Tell you what, though, it's good exercise, you know.

You should, probably, really.

Do you know, to work off 650 calories, you have to run at six miles an hour for 40 minutes!

-Eh?

-Yes.

Hold on, that's a four and a half mile run!

It's only a 5K, anyone can do that!

Chop up one more banana, and cover it with the juice of half a lemon.

This will stop it going brown and give it a lovely tang.

Once your cream's whipped into nice soft peaks,

lightly fold in the rest of your diagonal banana chunks.

Now it's time to build this beauty.

So gently spoon your bananas and cream onto the base.

Once it's evenly spread, it's time for the tricky bit.

Now, what we do, very gently...

Perfect.

Loving your work!

Now, these lemony bananas, we kind of plant like so.

It just gives a hint of it being bananas in your Banoffee.

-Let's get some... Oh, that's a nice one.

-It is, isn't it?

Shall we put that in the middle?

-Like that.

-Yeah.

Provocative. It's more than just, you know, "afters".

-Oh, aye.

-It's more than just, you know, spotted dick.

Can you imagine, all those years of spotted dick and jam roly-poly,

and you're greeted with that? Look at that!

The bananas, the strata. That is an anatomically perfect banoffee pie.

That's the ultimate banoffee pie.

-It's fabulously fabulous.

-You're going to like that if you make it!

That, dude, is a tastebud time machine, right back to the 1970s.

A dessert so good that America tried to claim it as their own.

But after one bite of this bold and beautiful banoffee pie,

all I can say is, "Hands off, you Americans!"

But it wasn't all cream, butter and sugar...

Back in the 1970s, whilst some of us were happily embracing modernity

by munching away on a mixture of flavourings and preservatives...

And were content to buy all our shopping at the local supermarket...

An alternative approach to food had been gathering momentum.

In the last five years, business has doubled.

For every health food shop in 1960, there are now ten.

Hundreds of chemist shops are now selling health foods.

There are even large health food supermarkets and no longer

do enthusiasts have to rely on back street herbalists.

By 1970, this lifestyle that had once been seen as the reserve

of hippies and weirdos, was starting to go mainstream.

Health food yoghurt, please.

# Big love from a rabbit

# Get yourself that greenery habit

# That must be the food of love... #

The answer, of course, is that you are what you eat.

Over the years, by appealing to the young, they've picked up disciples all over the world.

A healthy diet leads to a healthy mind.

As supermarket shelves got stocked with an ever-growing array

of processed food, more and more people became concerned

at the effect it was having on us.

It's the chemist, in fact, who has helped the manufacturer

to multiply, preserve, colour, flavour and improve his products.

Chemicals that some people would say were unnatural, unnecessary,

and perhaps dangerous.

And these sceptics included celebrity chef, Robert Carrier.

I'm worried about our diet today because I think if we're all eating

frozen peas and we're eating TV dinners, it's going to affect our health, first of all.

And it's going to affect our mental stability and it's also going to affect our libido.

The movement also had a more unlikely heroine whose own success

was founded on helping people maintain a healthy level of desire.

That grande dame of the romantic novel, Barbara Cartland.

Now her passion for romantic love is shared with an evangelical fervour for honey and vitamins.

Opening a health food store in Croydon is part of a campaign

to make her readers pure in more than heart.

Ladies and gentlemen,

I must first of all tell you that Mr Lee Richardson was the person

who first started to warn us about pollution,

about the terrible chemicals in our food. And he did so ten years ago.

I started to help him six years ago and everybody said, "Oh, cranks."

You know. "Freaks, new ideas." And now we're so respectable.

We have Prince Philip and Mr Nixon with us and so everybody's on the same bandwagon.

Ah, of course, President Nixon! Well, who could have asked for a better role model?

I was with my mother, who is 92, two days ago and she said to me,

"Well, darling," she said, "when you want me to die, just stop my vitamins!"

And let everybody who comes here feel happy, gay, young, and God bless you all.

# Lord knows I'm good for you

# Lord knows I'm good for you

# Lord knows I'm good for you! #

Barbara Cartland would go on to champion health food

throughout the rest of her life and wrote several books on the subject.

The nation's favourite TV cook also did her bit to re-introduce

us Brits to a more wholesome approach to eating.

There we are. The ground loaf. The easiest loaf in the world.

Very crusty, very delicious, full of flavour.

The real food movement was a backlash to what was seen

as the increasing artificiality of modern food.

But as the decade went on

and it grew, it started to attract its own critics.

Between us last year we spent £25 million on health foods,

which is a lot of money.

And if you like the taste, that's fair enough.

But we were wondering why they're called health foods.

Take, for example, sea salt.

Oil pollution, mercury, cadmium, chromium, lead.

All that's in sea water.

Wouldn't you know?

Despite the criticism, by the end of the decade,

even the supermarkets got in on the action.

Selling items that had once purely been the reserve of specialist shops

for people in sandals.

Like yoghurt and muesli.

Alpen is good things from the good earth, pure and simple.

Alpen. Alpen. Alpen...

In the '70s, we began to demand healthier foods, as more and more

of us realised just how removed we had become from the process

of food production and nature.

And people began to dream of a simple life.

Ah, ethical living, making your self-sufficient dream

become a reality.

Back in the 1970s, one on-screen couple took the plunge,

leaving their humdrum nine-to-five lifestyle to embark on

what would become known to us as The Good Life.

The antics of Tom and Barbara Good have subsequently been credited

with influencing a generation of Britons to embrace

their pastoral heritage and revert to making their living off the land!

Over in Cambridgeshire, Simon and Jacqueline Saggers

are a 21st century incarnation of this much-loved '70s legacy.

I think Tom and Barbara's motivation was really lifestyle.

You know, they wanted to get out of the rat race,

get out of the whole idea of just having to earn money for a living

and not do anything else. Growing things, being in touch with the land.

All those things I think are always going to be important for us humans.

So I think it's a really deep-rooted and primeval thing

that they touched, and I think that's partly why it was so successful.

But whilst the image of a suburban middle class couple

opting out of the rat race might have been game for a laugh for many of us,

for others at the time it was a real lifestyle choice.

For the last four years, an old farmhouse in Norfolk

has been home for the Shrub Family. A commune of young people

who live together, who try and survive on their own resources,

and who quietly reject the values of the consumer society

which surrounds them and to which they all once belonged.

This thing of buying and buying is contributing to the world's problems.

So we hope that by setting some kind of example,

perhaps people will see that they can do with less.

And it will help the world's problems.

But by the 1970s, this voice for change was beginning

to be taken a whole lot more seriously.

Ecology is about living together in a world that's changing fast.

Tackling our problems with a completely fresh approach.

And the Ecology Party, or ECO for short, is Britain's fastest-growing political party.

# I don't need pleasure, I don't feel pain... #

ECO stresses the importance of self-reliance,

of living within our means through a stable, non-polluting economy.

Recycling waste and providing far more of our own food than we do now.

# ..I'm all about. #

Born in the 1970s, these same issues still drive green politics today.

But it's how we grow our food that is underpinning

Simon's 21st Century "good life".

Now we understand that the food system that we're running

is so intensive, so resource-heavy, that we need to start looking at that and addressing it.

Instead of having a farm where you've got one man running 1,000 acres,

really just because of oil, which, you know,

albeit a fantastic substance, is going to run out.

And we need to try and find ways to get more people back onto the land,

actually living and working and doing it in a way

which isn't oil-dependent and which does, as well,

give us a more fulfilling lifestyle.

Whilst motivations for living the good life have evolved,

there's no denying that getting greener fingered has something

to offer us all.

I think there isn't anything better than growing the food that you eat

where you're actually able to go and dig potatoes or harvest your

runner beans and take them straight into the kitchen and cook them.

That's a fantastic thing to be able to do and everyone can do it,

more than we're doing at the moment. You know, even on a small scale,

in small gardens, people can get involving in growing their own food.

Turning back time like this isn't exactly many people's idea of progress.

But as third generation farmers on the same plot,

the Saggers knew they could make it work.

It was once a mixed organic smallholding here,

we're repeating history.

But Simon's father took it to the intensive farming

that was the norm when he was a young man.

So battery chickens was something that, you know, was being encouraged

and funded from government. So that's the route he went.

That was what his life was about.

So for him, to see us take on a handful of chickens, you know,

just for a small number of eggs, and then do the vegetables

and the fruit and the honey,

he just thought, "How can that patchwork really work?

"How can that be a proper living?"

And that's where I think they were just very apprehensive

that we'd gone down the wrong route.

But it turns out as well as managing to grow most of their own food,

any spare produce has been easily sold

through their own veg box scheme.

I really do think people are wanting to eat more healthily

and more ethically.

The very fact we are a very small organic box supplier

and we've got a constant waiting list

and people ringing up all the time wanting to find out if they can

join the list, because not very many people do fresh food cut that day.

You know, they do a lot of organic box schemes around the country,

but to actually know you've picked it up that afternoon,

it was cut that morning, I think people are beginning to realise

that the fresher the food is, the healthier it is.

Buying organic, local, fresh produce has seen food

become central to the whole environmental movement.

But where on-screen pioneers Tom and Barbara Good

played to a stereotype with their peapod burgundy

and back garden methane generators...

Living the good life now is as much about accepting

the global need to develop sustainable lifestyle

as it is about, well, living a good life!

-So, homemade elderflower champagne.

-Home made?

-Home made.

-Well done.

I would definitely prefer to be living the good life now

compared to the 1970s.

We're just much more knowledgeable about what we're doing

in terms of growing the food, presenting the food,

eating the food, cooking the food.

I mean, it's a more sophisticated and more exciting game now.

I think the term the good life means so many different things

to so many different people.

And ultimately everyone's got to find their own answer

to what the good life is.

For us, it has been about real change that does mean we are

able to live more sustainably, closer to the land

and without the resources that we are currently gobbling up.

But back in the 1970s, as much as we loved watching Tom and Barbara,

the majority of us hadn't yet jumped on the healthy eating band wagon.

The culinary heart of the 1970s

was still very much the calorie-laden classics.

The 1970s were brilliant.

-By thing is though, it has left us with some guilty pleasures.

-Yeah.

Secretly listening to the Bay City rollers,

-wearing stacked-heel boots and tartan pants.

-Absolutely not, Kingy.

-I mean culinary.

-Oh. Ah, well, that's a different thing.

Ladies and gentlemen, the chicken cordon bleu.

An American dish with a French name

that in the 1970s was taken to the heart of the British nation.

It was a dish that became more popular than flares and sideburns

and who can really blame us?

Do you know, it is quite often thought of as being a bit naff now?

But when there is something you want to eat, it's great.

Cheese, chicken, ham

-and we have got a little surprise in the centre.

-We certainly have.

We have thrown another bit of '70s into that as well.

On my way. On my way.

Now, what we are going to do. See this mini fillet here?

We are going to take that off, like that.

Then we are going to open it up a bit like a book.

Now, I'm thinking we should do that way

and open it that way cos this is thicker, you see?

It's a chicken Kiev vibe.

'Next, cover your board with clingfilm

'and place your fillet on top, ready for tenderising.'

Leave room... You see how I have done?

Leave room for the chicken to spread

when you bash the living daylights out of it. Not too hard.

Nice and gentle but bash it all the same.

'By the time you've finished,

'the fillet should be about a centimetre thick.'

I have got three bowls here.

One for seasoned flour, one for breadcrumbs, one for beaten eggs.

And, you know, you could use Japanese panko crumbs or you

could use ciabatta crumbs or you could make your own but the

ones for this are those orange ones that you get in the chip shop.

The ones you can see from space.

-That's what you want.

-You do.

-You do. You don't want any of that newfangled shenanigans.

-No.

Season the flour with a pinch of salt and pepper.

Now beat three eggs in a bowl

and chop up some Emmental cheese into four chunks,

each roughly the size of half a matchbox.

-Kingy?

-What, mate?

-Who were your favourite '70s band?

Oh, well, it was that time of glam rock and everything, wasn't it?

So it was like... There was like, The Sweet. And there was...

There was... With Ballroom Blitz. Can you remember that?

That was brilliant.

# Na, na, na, na, ballroom blitz Ballroom blitz. #

-For me, the '70s, it was T Rex.

-Yes.

-That was my time.

I was, like, 14 but I did make my own loon pants.

Do you remember? 28-inch bottoms, split-kneed loons.

Got my mother's sewing machine, got some school pants

and sewed bits in there like that

and walked down the street looking absolutely ridiculous.

# Get it on Bang a gong

# Get it on. #

Now, lay the ham on the chicken breast

leaving about a centimetre all the way around.

A cube of cheese in the middle.

That gives you the ooze.

Cranberry sauce.

It gives you that Brie wedge coated in golden crumbs and fried vibe.

Now, take your mini fillet and place it over your stuff in the middle.

Roll it over like so.

Make a little chicken torpedo.

Now, if you're of a nervous disposition,

you could put this in the fridge to chill and to settle

but we'll just leave it for a while whilst we repeat with the others.

# Get it on Bang a gong

# Get it on. #

Now this next bit is best done with the aid of a friend

because one of you gets appallingly messed up

whilst the other one really needs clean hands to put it into the pan.

Indeed.

So should I kind of do the...

..dirty work...

-..and you kind of do the...

-..not so dirty work?

All right. So, that's kind of...

It's relaxed into its torpedo-like form.

-Flour.

-Lovely.

Plenty of it.

Egg.

Roll it.

And roll it in luminous crumbs.

Marvellous.

I'm so messy at this.

And eggy.

-Again. This is called double-dipped.

-Get in.

We love a double dip, don't we?

Yeah.

And back in the crumbs. And don't be shy. There you are.

-I love you.

-I love you too.

Thank you.

And the clean bit of the job is placing them into some hot oil

just long enough to sear the '70s fashion torpedoes on all sides.

-I was never good with fashion.

-No?

I was a big lad, you know.

Anyway, I had my drainpipes, got them done.

And it was the time of very high heels for men and I wore these

grey patent leather winkle-pickers with stacked-heel Cuban heels.

-What?

-I had a Russian motorbike and sidecar in London.

First year at art school.

So I set off to a party. Drainpipes.

My grey patent leather winkle-picker Cuban heels.

Russian motorbike down the Old Kent Road.

Stopped at the traffic lights, the thing skidded,

I put my feet down and my heels just exploded.

Did you take your Cuban heels off?

It took my Cubans off on the Old Kent Road.

Once they're nicely browned all over, take your tasty torpedoes

and place them in a pre-heated oven at 220 degrees Celsius.

Cook them for about 25 minutes

or until the chicken is cooked through.

Now chop up three parboiled potatoes

and pour some duck fat into a frying pan.

Slice up a clove of garlic.

Now fry the spuds and, once browned, add the garlic,

a handful of rosemary and season with salt and pepper.

Sprinkle in the sea salt, ooh, ooh, ooh.

Now keep frying until the potatoes are cooked through.

Fanny Craddock memorial potatoes.

-I'll get the beans, Kingy.

-All right, mate.

What sort of stuff did you do at art college then, Dave?

Oh, food, food, food.

This sort of this, really. I thought I'd do a garnish.

Oh, right, neat.

Nice. Really nice.

It's called Satsuma Dawn.

Brilliant.

-Oh.

-Oh, nice.

After 25 minutes are up, your cordon bleu should be beautifully browned

and it's time to plate them up with your spuds and some green beans.

-Shall we?

-Yes, go on then.

-Please burst.

-Oh!

-Look at that. Ooorrgh!

-It's foamy ooze.

It's perfect.

Just because food fashion has left it behind,

doesn't mean to say the chicken cordon bleu isn't a great plate of food.

Yes, there's still place for two-tone trousers

and Afghan coat in the kitchen.

I'm with you.

A guilty pleasure it may be

but I, for one, will have zero guilt in polishing this whole thing off.

If, like us, you want to celebrate the '70s, why not go

and find out how it's done on our dead ace website:

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd