First off – cards on the table. I’m no foodie.

Okay let’s break that down. I like food – my generous frame alone is evidence of that.

But food is for eating – not talking about. As for TV chefs, while I can stomach old blokes like Stein and Floyd, I can’t watch mockney tosser Jamie Oliver without getting angry.

But anyway… growing up, Delia was out on her own.

At Sunday lunch if the Yorkshire puds were complimented then the cook would say: “Ahh yes..they’re Delia’s recipe”.

In the ensuing conversation my Gran would list all the Delia creations she had made that week. She adores her.

Years later I saw her, obviously in her role as Norwich City chairman, at a Newcastle United reserve game looking very cosy and flirty with Bobby Robson. I can imagine she was angling for a new centre forward while Bobby was probably dreaming of a steak and kidney pie.

Anyway, Delia, it turns out, has a new TV show. As Mockney Toss Boy fights obesity with healthy school dinners, Delia is reverting to processed food. Really. This despite writing in an earlier book:

“…my personal belief that we may be in danger of losing something very precious, and that is a reverence for natural ingredients and the joy and pleasure they can bring to real life … The sensual pleasure of eating belongs to everyday life as well, and it’s not always to be found in the vast amounts of mass-produced, easy-cook fast foods that we’re subtly persuaded to eat …”

Hmm.

Apparently it hasn’t gone down well. Alex Renton at The Guardian burnt all Delia’s books and accused her of going over to the dark side.

Later, in the same paper, a panel of the great and the good got a top chef to follow her recipes and gave their verdicts on the taste:

“This is like having a pig piss in your throat. It tastes of freezer and plastic. I don’t understand. If you can’t cook and you can’t afford to go out, eat a cheese sandwich.”

***

“This is supremely awful. Terrible beyond belief. It’s a crime against aubergines. They’re such beautiful vegetables, and to see them treated like this. It’s appalling.”

***

“Why would you eat tinned mince? It’s like a lamb shat in a tin.”

Indeed.  Why>

Food columnist Giles Coren has his own theories:

I think she’s jealous of Jamie and Nigella and Hugh. It’s like old footballers who bemoan the fact there was never any money in the game when they were playing: Delia was a food star when food stars weren’t big. It’s like some old boxer coming out of retirement, Rocky Seven up for one last slugging match.

But what she doesn’t realise is that the rules have changed, that nowadays people are motivated by different things: the environment, quality ingredients, nutrition. She’s come back for her slice of the pie - that’s her motivation.

For me the best quote came from a Guardian Blog commenter:

She showed me and millions of us how to cook simply, healthily, with good fresh ingredients, and now she wants to show us how not to. What’s up? Need another football club? 

Seriously, why does “Britain’s Best-Selling Cook” needs to squeeze more money out of her franchise? And she is milking it: have a look at www.deliaonline.com and you’ll see what she’ll get from this blatant advert on the BBC: there’s the book and already over 100 products in Waitrose and Sainsbury’s branded with the “A Delia Cheat! ingredient” label on them. that includes “Mr Crumb fresh breadcrumbs”, for god’s sake, and no less than six of the McCain processed potato products she plugged on TV last night.
 And why - given that the BBC must have paid gazillions for the show - are the “recipes” not up on its food site, as is normal? Nor can you see the show on iPlayer. Not that you’d want to.

In it for the money. Sure. Of course. That’s why I go to work.

Can’t blame her for that.

But the loss of dignity? Following the mockney into that whole branded product horribleness? Why does everyone sell out so easy now?

Even fecking Keith Richards is doing adverts for Louis Vuitton.

And why does the BBC allow her to do this?  This blatant profiteering is as sickening as it is blindingly obvious.

Meanwhile, my gran, now in her nineties, still cooks up the occasional “Delia”.  No doubt we’ll catch up over a family Sunday lunch soon.

God, I hope she didn’t see the show.