Ges on the Box: TV dinners are hard to stomach

THERE’S a lot of food on the telly. Not literally — although the parrot has taken to squashing his grapes on the screen whenever Barack Obama makes an appearance.

It’s usually not too bad, but this last week has proved trying. There’s just a little bit of screen in the middle you can still see through — I watched 10 minutes of “Casualty” thinking it was the news and we’d suffered some terrible national disaster.

We don’t know why he’s taken to doing this. I phoned a bird psychiatrist I know (honestly) and he suggested giving him a shower. We did. He still squashes the grapes but he smells better now.

Perhaps things will settle down after the mating season. Him Indoors hopes so because the bird has taken a bit of a shine to him and spends an inordinate amount of time preening his eyebrows.

I suspect he (or she, we have no idea of sex) is gathering material for nesting — Him Indoors, like most men of a certain age, has more hair over his eyes, and sprouting from his nose and ears than he does on his head. Pity, really, as the parrot always crash-lands on his dome.

But back to food. I limit myself. Not with the real stuff, with the virtual stuff. I can sit with a box of Maltesers and “MasterChef” quite happily thank you very much. Not even whizzed-up grey risotto and blackberries puts me off. Indeed, I consider “MasterChef” essential viewing. It makes me feel a whole lot better about dishing up beans on toast for dinner. At least they’re not raw.

I wasn’t prepared for “Big Chef, Little Chef” though. It was about top chef Heston Blumenthal (three Michelin stars) taking on the chain of roadside cafes in a bid to improve their fortunes.

Now, I’m quite partial to a pot of Little Chef tea on the way to mum-in-law’s. Sometimes, we might even have egg and chips. I once had a veggie burger but usually it’s egg and chips. It’s OK.

Now Heston Blumenthal probably doesn’t do egg and chips in his restaurant, The Fat Duck. Not that I’ve ever been there to find out — well, at £200 or thereabouts for dinner, I prefer to stick to Little Chef.

It’s not that I object to paying for good food — hey, I cough up for egg and chips at Little Chef don’t I?

I suppose it’s all a case of what you consider good food. Heston is famous for his snail porridge, cauliflower risotto with chocolate jelly (yes, together, I checked), salmon poached in liquorice gel and bacon and egg ice-cream.

It’s almost enough to put me off my Maltesers.

We’re off down to mum-in-law’s this Saturday. I think I might pack sandwiches.