Hello, boys!
There’s one celebrity cook the men will always tune in for, and it’s former It-Girl, now It-Woman Nigella Lawson. As famous for filling out her sweaters as she is for deep-frying Dove bars, she may be the Private Benjamin or Lisa Douglas of the kitchen, but she’s to be congratulated on bringing the sexy back to food. Martha Stewart, by comparison, is a prim Edna Mode prescribing sauteed zucchini blossoms not because they’re yummy, but because they’ll look good with the seared squab. Mario Batali is some kind of cross between Trimalchio and Mr. Creosote, swelling visibly on-camera till he threatens to burst his Crocs.
But Nigella, while she has an alarming tendency to take up with the wrong kind of fellow, does have an endearingly earthy style. In other words, she turns the men into testosterone-addled horndogs and reminds the women about all their appetites, which is a public service of a sort.
Here’s The Way of Nigella, a piece in The Morning News from a couple of years back, dropped in a comment on Gawker for which I will find the credit later (have I mentioned I’m lazy?). Nigella on raising your own shrimp, preparing soothing comfort food, and dining out at cheap Chinese counters:
I’ve found that it is hard to find good shrimp, and
so I’ve started farming them myself. To the inexperienced onlooker, two-phased intensive shrimp farming might seem like a daunting task. While it is hard work, I always feel rewarded. How I just love the marine smell of raw feed on my hands. From hatchery to grow-out pond, I am responsible for keeping out disease, looking after salinity conditions, and making sure that there is enough circulation in the water. When I look into my special concrete larval tanks, I am looking at thousands, if not millions, of potential shrimp-kabobs. It is the perfect blend of embracing nature – my private bountiful sea – and expectantly knowing that I’ll be feasting on lemon-buttered scampi over linguini that results ultimately in blissful domestic satisfaction.
raincoaster 
She is a major horn-dog creator. And surely, as a successful woman she is entitled to as many bad men as she can handle. I do not like crustaceans in my diet but Nigella is the one celebrity chef who could convert me. Especially with that marine smell on her hands. And her private bountiful sea – – – Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Excuse me – I need a private moment!!! English Muffins – ohhhhhhhhhh
The monkeybrains weren’t a turnoff? You must be SOME kinky, my friend.
Oops, I hadn’t read that part. When I lived on a farm as a child, Mum used to use almost every part of the sheep which Dad would kill each week. I did eat what was put in front of me, like a good child (God, how I changed later) even the brains! I think they were poached in milk – – –
Anyway, she can chew on my monkey-brain anytime – just so long as she doesn’t swallow!
She looks like she’d swallow. What do you think?
In my excessively long life I have found there is only one way to find out. It is impossible to tell these tings from a distance.
Careful, I may need another private moment – – –
Well you know where to find her…and what her kitchen surfaces are like. Take padding.
I’ll have you know there is no padding – at least not in my codpiece – – –
Intensive farming in the home…its like a dream come true. Who needs padding when you’ve got a big pile of shrimp to squelch around in.
Did I just say that?
You did indeed. A crustacean perv. How esoteric. Hail Cthulhu! Hail the Fungi from Yuggoth.
I really like Nigella, but one thing does bother me: all that hair around all that food. Being a professional baker, it really irks me. I know it’s TV, but…
Well yes, and you haven’t seen her ARMS! Actually what bugs me is the guy she’s living with (or did they marry) smokes like a chimney and that would get in all the food. Ickypoo. Hair is just protein after all.
Are you saying she has hairy arms?
I know hair is just protein, but I’d be so mortified if someone found one of my hairs in their food (it’s happened once). Smoking around the food is absolutely gross, though.
She does.
Fortunately, I’m blonde, so it’s hard to tell if my hair ends up in the food. Nigella should really lay off the dye, though, because that’s pretty obvious in just about anything.
Well, me, I have a dense mass of curly hair (somewhere between Robert Plant, Sideshow Bob and Brian May apparently….though it all started as a homage to At the Drive in competition about five years ago). Anyway, basically I moult fairly regular so I consider at least one of my hairs to be the ‘secret ingredient’ that really adds the magic to the food. I haven’t cooked anything for years that hasn’t had at least one hair in it.
But then…who wants my opinion…I smell of seafood half the time.
If somebody in my place found a hair in their food I’d pretend there was an old folk tale saying that meant they’d marry rich or something. As long as there’s a good enough story, people will swallow anything.
While she’s certainly pneumatic enough, I hestitated slightly at the second photo – a bizzare combination of come hither and toothy git.
hesitated – what a dolt!
Freudian slips are so easy to make, so hard to take back.
Maybe so, but she still looks like she’s experienced with the bit and being fed carrots, apples and sugar cubes in her stall.
I challenge her significant other to walk up one stormy night and blurt out, “BLUCHER!”
You haven’t seen her significant other; he looks like a cane toad and smells like the bottom of a pub ashtray. He’s a billionaire, though, so she finds it in her heart to forgive him.
It’s probably my doing with changing the aspect ratio of the pic anyway.
And please let us not forget that she is actually the spawn of Nigel Lawson.
so egotistic he insisted on calling his only child Nigella to ensure the Nigel legacy was continued. Whether he expected his legacy to be a pornocook or not is a different question..but who cares. The guy was basically a pillock.
Yes, but he also spawned Dominick, didn’t he, who’s a really funny writer. For that he gets a bit of a pass in my book.
So does spawn count towards your achievements. IE I can be a massive wanker as long as I have great kids (pornochef and funny writer in this case…but perhaps I’ll reverse it, funny chef and pornowriter). I may look into that.
If only as an opportunity to overuse the word spawn. Which is pretty damn fun.
I will support people’s right to breed if they produce writers as good as Dominick. I don’t support their right to mess up the economy or anything else, though.
Isn’t it weird that even the poshest British birds still have that ropey look about them (see Plum Sykes for further proof). Not to mention those teeth! But she’d definitely swallow, and most certainly take it up the hoop, no doubt. I only wish i had as much courage to mainline butter the way she does.
She must have one of the best home gyms in London, though. I don’t believe all this “oh, I don’t work out, I don’t worry about it” stuff. She has always been known as a hottie, and she knows that she looks better when she’s not stick-thin.
Plum Sykes is a great example of a three dressed up as a nine. She’s groomed to within an inch of her life, but there’s really not that much to work with.