Maureen Barnes Down the tube
Of all the irritating things about SABC TV, I think the one which bothers me the most is its inflexibility – a hangover, like so many aspects of the present service, from the previous policy-makers.
SABC3 decided – and please don’t think I’m knocking this decision – that on Saturday afternoons they’re going to give the little woman something to watch as an alternative to the sport, which is screened on all the other channels. So at 1pm we get a repeat of Screenplay, followed by a repeat of Fair Deal, followed by a repeat of Gardens Wild and Wonderful, followed by a repeat of Getting PC and a repeat of Options.
In the half-hour break until we get a repeat of the entire week of Isidingo: The Need, we are given a new programme, about which more later.
On occasions, of course, the SABC can be flexible but, alas, only when it comes to sport. All the above programmes are scrapped in an instant in favour of, say, motorsport.
Their approach to what they regard as “women’s TV” is a little strange. Unlike other countries, which appreciate the numbers of men who enjoy gardening, travel, consumer issues and – dare I say it – cooking in places other than the backyard, South Africa finds the idea of such male pursuits both unhealthy and unpatriotic.
Which brings me back to the solitary half-hour on Saturday afternoons devoted to a previously unscreened programme, which this week saw the start of a new series, Two Fat Ladies.
When the first series was screened in 1996, it attracted an audience of five million Brits. A combination of travel and cooking, the two ladies of the title are the charming and slightly dotty Jennifer Paterson and Clarissa Dickson Wright.
Paterson spent 15 years as a cook for The Spectator magazine, preparing their famous weekly lunches. She’s now turned 70 and still writes regular magazine columns as well as appearing on various radio and TV shows. Dickson Wright was a successful barrister before dropping out to become a respected cook.
The posh pair, incongruously clad in leathers with plums firmly in mouth, travel around Britain seeking out new and interesting cooking experiences. Their chosen mode of transport is a Triumph motorcycle with sidecar, driven by Clarissa, which they treat with great affection – rather as other ladies of their generation might treat a pet Pekingese.
The first episode saw them in picturesque Cornwall, where they bought fresh fish from the local fishermen in the harbour. “Looks like a bloody great mermaid, doesn’t it?” commented Jennifer when selecting a fat Coley. They then adjourned to a borrowed quayside restaurant where they cooked up a storm, throwing health and cholesterol considerations to the wind.
Clarissa larded monkfish with anchovies and marinated it ready for Gigot of monkfish. Jennifer made a homely fish pie, while telling us what good therapy it is for the busy businessman to come home and cook a serious meal.
“I know some who do,” she said. “They find it relaxing after the ghastly things they do in the city with stocks and shares and destroying each other’s reputations.”
Lovely stuff indeed – witty, interesting and full of fun. The recipes were good too – unlike that clownish Floyd who is anything but a good cook. You might not be able to get all the ingredients here – monkfish, for example, used to be available in South Africa but now hardly ever is – but the Fat Ladies’ ideas are easily adapted.
It would have been sensible for SABC3 to have screened this programme, and the Clive James series which preceded it, at 7pm on a weekday evening and repeated it on Saturday afternoons. Is it too much to ask for just one slot early on one evening to be given occasionally to those who enjoy something other than puerile American junk?
On three nights this slot is currently given over to the inane Police Academy on Wednesday, the gung-ho Jag on Thursday and the juvenile Team Knight Rider on Friday. It’s enough already.
I’ve received a letter from a reader, Barry Collins, referring to an earlier letter he sent to me but which I never received. If Mr Collins would be kind enough to contact me, I’d like to speak to him.