Masterchef the Professionals: Series 13 episode 5

Here we go again.

Jabari, Ash, Ross all get an intro bit tonight as they do their slow motion walk to the studio, wonder who the fourth is and how boring what they said must have been?

Monica wants them to trim some lamb, she is sick of Wareing White Walker (WWW) getting all the brutal, sexy Game of Thrones stuff, she chops up a bit of bone with a big knife. Phwoar.

I love how Monica says ‘botter’ instead of ‘butter’ it’s without doubt the best thing about the show.

WWW is off to the wanking cupboard to “watch them like a hawk,” GregG says. They edited out the last bit: “watch them like a hawk and wank like an angry, hairy chimp from beyond the wall.”

Ash cooks in the Royal Navy, she likes to do “modern twists, like gels,” she also says she puts ‘blood, sweat and tears’ into her cooking. Gruesome. She says she’s cooked for the Queen, is feeding the Queen a gel of your ‘blood, sweat and tears’ treasonous?

Ash absolutely fucks it, that poor lamb died in vain.

Jabari wants to open a restaurant serving ‘high class Jamaican fusion’, which sounds like UB40’s new favourite place. Then he did a little rap and it made me want to die. Someone saying they can rap is no better than that fucker who gets a guitar out at a party, in my book.

Marcus wants them to fillet a plaice, do a chicken sauce and pickle some radish.

“That’s luxurious,” GregG says looking at WWW’s chicken sauce, something he also says when he rubs KFC grease into his ballsack.

He also describes WWW’s final plate of food as “delicate and majestic,” which is how he describes his love making, when in fact, if anything, it’s “clumsy and pitiful.”

Santosh is up next, he was the one they didn’t acknowledge at the start of the show, and he did OK.

Finally, Ross from Edinburgh who works in a care home. He likes to bring nostalgia to his cooking and uses strong, bold flavours to camouflage the smell of piss. Fair play.

It’s time for their two courses.

Chocolate soil makes its first appearance of the series. Soil. Who was the first person to call it that and why did everyone let it carry on? Go all out and start calling it ‘dirt’ you cowards.

The trouble with this part of the show is frankly I’m starting to think about going to sleep, so writing becomes tricky, especially when the most interesting thing to happen was GregG asking Jabari what his aunt’s name is and getting ‘Yvonne’ as a response.

The results are in:

Santosh: Good main. They’re not into his greasy dessert though.

Ash: Main – meh. Dessert makes Monica say “yes ma’am,” a nod to her trying to poison the Queen. GregG says, “If you lined up eight of them I reckon I’d have a go at six and a half,” very similar to what he said when he first watched Snow White.

Jabari: Fucks it.

Ross: Very good. He has a little cry too which is adorable. GregG muttered, “what a pussyhole,” when he left the room to gather himself though which was unnecessary.

And going through we have, Ross and Santosh. Well done them.

Masterchef the Professionals: Series 13 episode 4

Yes! GregGbot 2000 is back, he’s been plugged in to charge and he’s ready to pull his faces again, it’s also good for me as I now have something to write about.

No female contestants tonight, which I think sets the horrid tone for this episode.

First skills test, Marcus wants them to chop up a chicken and de-bone the thighs. Watching Wareing White Walker (WWW) take his sword to the bird was very exciting.

“FIRE,” shouts GregG as WWW burns off the brandy in the sauce. He also shouts this every time he pisses due to an aggressive urinary tract infection that he simply refuses to get seen to.

“I want to see how well they do on what I’d like to call a yummometer, how much yum can they manage,” GregG says just to irritate me.

First up is a lad called Alex. who started as a pot washer. My first job was pot washing, something you didn’t know about me isn’t it? Little bonus.

Asked what sort of food he likes cooking, Alex tells us he likes cooking “fresh produce,” as opposed to “horrible, rotten produce,” very interesting.

Next we have Hira who cooks at the cricket ground in Nottingham. He married an English woman and had a thousand people at his wedding. GregG gurns at him.

Monica‘s task involves berries again. She is clearly being paid by the Berry Council. This time she wants them to put the berries in a pre-made pastry case, with some chantilly and stuff. Boring. WWW heads off to the wanking cupboard to sharpen his axe.

Jono from Leeds comes out. Good job he wasn’t faced with WWW immediately as I worry they’d have fought to the death. You can tell these two will hate each other.

“Travelled much?” GregG asks, clearly knowing that he’s travelled, as it’d be awkward if he said, “no, I’ve never left Leeds.” He’s worked at Noma!!! He worked at Noma for six months. This lad is going to really know his way around moss and barnacles and stuff.

Jono doesn’t like that WWW wanted it to taste more of pistachio. Knew they’d hate each other, told you.

Richard loves comfort food and looks like Matt Damon’s slightly melted cousin.

“Do you do much pastry?” GregG asks.

“I’m married to a pastry chef, so yeah you could say I DO pastry quite a lot actually, mate!” He replied, then they high fived, horrible scenes.

Next up, signature two course menu.

Ants!!!!! Remember in 2010 when that happened for the first time? GregG’s astounded by it, Marcus pretends to be shocked too. I’ve eaten desserts with ants in three times I think. Calm down, you berks.

“HAY CUSTARD!!!!!” GregG screams, something he also shouts when his semen dribbles to the floor of his local petting zoo.

Then they review the food:

Alex, very good.

Hira, quite good.

Jono, quite good.

Rich, OK.

WWW is sadly ‘deflated’ by Rich’s rice pudding, meaning he is off to the cupboard to try and put air back into himself.

Hira and Richard go home, and we prepare to go again tomorrow night. Farewell.

Masterchef the Professionals: Series 13 episode 3

How is it possibly the quarter finals already? One of these people has made it this far having only proved he can make custard. I made strawberry Angel Delight tonight and you don’t see me being jerked off by William Sitwell as a result.

No GregG at this stage of the competition, not needed, his expertise all dribbled out of his gaping hole during the first two episodes.

Tonight starts with an invention test, Marcus wants them to go ‘to the next level’. The chosen ingredient to feature in this invention test is ‘spices’, how delightfully vague. They may as well have shrugged and gone, “do what you want, we’re not bothered, but do fucking elevate it, OK?” I think a real invention test would be if they had the ability to look in my fridge on the 27th of the month and knock something up.

What are the contestants up to? Well, mainly being bellowed at by Wareing White Walker (WWW), he just really wants to know more about their home lives, “Who is supporting you at home?” he asks over and over again.

Tonight, Dave has chosen to rub spices into his pork loin, the filthy git.

Victor’s talking about his mentor – Andrew Cole. This is a surprise to me as I never imagined he was much of a cook, maybe that’s why him and Teddy Sheringham didn’t get on? Perhaps Andy came in one day and asked Teddy if he wanted to try his Goulash and Teddy told him to, “get that foreign muck away from me.”

Tonight though, Victor is rubbing spices into his poussin, the filthy git.

Philli Cheese Steak has travelled to Asia and she isn’t scared of letting you know. She is doing a cinnamon pastry and chai ice cream. The only one to make a dessert, brave or foolish? Such peril.

Sammy Sous Chef is also playing with his poussin, because he is copying the bigger boys.

They all do some cooking, but what’s this? Philli Cheese Steak’s made fondants as well as tarts, fuck, I’ve never been so nervous.

“You’re going to have to choose one and make a decision,” WWW barks at her. “Who is supporting your tart at home? WHO?!”

Sammy Sous Chef upsets Monica with a lack of seasoning. Sammy says he should have ‘given it some’. The sordid kitchen atmosphere clearly poisoning his precious mind.

Philli Cheese Steak’s fondant is good, thank Ggod GregG wasn’t here to pull one of his faces during this segment.

!!! NEW BIT ALERT !!!! Monica Galletti gives them a little pep talk about how they need to sort their lives out before they present food to the critics.

In come the critics, they tell us they want to eat something they enjoy rather than something they don’t enjoy. They certainly know their beans these lads.

“MEDIOCRE!” they cry about Sammy’s tartare. I could have told them that before they tried it because, of course, 97% of tartare’s are mediocre.

Dave’s done some beef with a ‘snail sauce’. Snail sauce sounds like a very horrible euphemism, why is Dave such a mucky devil? His food looks good though, he manages to slip in that he’s been cooking for 24 years which he has told us 24,000 times so far.

Victor deep fried some anchovies which made me rub my thighs and dribble on the floor.

Philli Cheese Steak fried some chicken, Korean style. Did you know she’s actually been to Korea?

And what’s this?! They put three of them through to the next round!!! Fuck!!! Who saw this coming, not Sammy Sous Chef that’s for sure.

Then we got a little preview of next week’s contestants, one of them puts ants in his food so I’m looking forward to us pretending that’s new. Do they taste like lemon?! NOOOOOOOO WAAAAAY. Lemony ants?! Get the fuck out of here. I hope GregG’s back for that bit so I can get so irritated I punch myself in the poussin.

Masterchef the Professionals: Series 13 episode 2

That’s right, I’ve decided to start writing reviews of episodes of Masterchef. That’s also right, I’m starting at episode two as the idea only came to me during episode two and I’ll be damned if I’m watching episode one again.

Four contestants tonight, Victor, Michaela, Dave and Harrison.

First up the skills test. Wareing, who is increasingly looking like a Game of Thrones character, wants them to make sweetbreads and a ‘rustic red wine sauce’, just like they’d have on Game of Thrones.

“Are you passing this sauce?” GregG queries.

“This sauce is definitely not going to be passed. Everything that’s going in this pan is going to go on the plate.” Wareing replies.

“Wow,” GregG offers.

Wow. Wow indeed. Can you imagine the surprise GregG gets every time he farts? Must blow his fucking mind.

Monica heads off to the wanking cupboard and Victor comes out and nails it. This is good as Victor seems absolutely adorable. He compares getting the good feedback to feeling like winning the lottery. If I ever win the lottery I’m going to pay someone to have GregG edited out of every TV show I ever watch.

Michaela is next up and she fucks it right up, I knew she would, and I knew she’d be going home. She tried to poison the Wareing White Walker (WWW) with raw sweetbread, that’s not on.

Monica obviously forgot she had to come up with a skills test for this episode, so got them to make some custard and pour it on some berries then try to set fire to the custard a bit. We’re reminded in this part of the episode that GregG likes desserts, a vital part of Masterchef’s narrative.

First up to make some custard is Dave, Dave’s been making custard for 24 years. He has four kids who only eat custard, this is going to be a swim in the custard for Dave, surely?

It’s so easy for Dave that he in fact caramelises some nuts to go on top, and – you’ll love this bit, made TWO versions?! This blew their minds, WWW temporarily turned into a snake and GregG actually shit his Union Jack boxer shorts he was so overexcited. Cleverly, the two versions were one served in a glass and then the exact same thing on a plate!

Then there was a young man from Devon called Harrison who looked a bit like he should be in Fraggle Rock.

They showed the outside of his restaurant with the name obscured, but being a digital expert I found it on Google and it sounds quite nice, so I might go next time I’m down there. So, despite him being eliminated at the end of this episode it was totally worth it as he could have a FoodieBoy™️ dining there. Lucky lad.

The next bit where they all cooked two courses was interesting because they slaughtered 400 lambs for it. There was rack of lamb, rump of lamb, cannon of lamb, lamb panna cotta, lamb tiramisu – all of it was lamb.

GregG did his wandering around looking at his watch and gurning. He chatted to them all – he did his pally chat with Dave because Dave is a man called Dave and GregG is a man called GregG and bloody hell they’re just a pair of bloody men who could go for a quick pint after the show if you fancy it actually?

The reviews of the food weren’t particularly exciting. Monica said “buttery, biscuit base” which resulted in GregG making even more of a mess of his pants.

The two best ones went through, so well done on that, although I did think they were going to do that thing where they don’t get rid of as many people as expected and were going to keep Harrison too, but they didn’t.

WWW did offer Harrison a “you keep going young man,” as he left the room though, which was nice. I’m hoping for more of this and perhaps a “never cook again you piece of shit,” in a future episode.

Eating in Verona

Verona has absolutely mega massive Bill Shakespeare vibes. The bard quilled not one, but two bloody plays based in this Italian city. You’ve got ‘The Two Gentlemen of Verona’ and the lesser known ‘Romeo and Juliet’.

It’s perhaps this link to Verona which made it appeal to me, you see I’m actually from Solihull — and Solihull’s greatest cultural contribution to the planet is its proximity to Stratford where old Willy Shakes used to knock about.

Before we move on from this filler to move on to the fodder, I’d like to shock you — I didn’t used to be a fan of Italian food. Yeah, shook much? The reason for this being the fact mentioned in the previous paragraph about being from Solihull. I associated Italian food with bland, boring shite. Fortunately that changed when I went to Italy for the first time a few years ago. I’m now probably pretty much an expert on Italian food, you can tell this by reading my review of Gino D’Acampo’s restaurant.

Some people thought we shouldn’t go on holiday because of some ‘pandemic’ but then I looked at the infection rate in Italy and the infection rate in the UK and thought “whatever,” I also remembered that we went to Florence last year and had a bloody excellent time, I also remembered that we were supposed to go to Thailand in April. I also spoke to a friend who lives in Italy who confirmed they’re not acting like massive, stupid twats.

First night we got in late, but time means nothing to food bloggers. Time stops for no fat man. I chucked the suitcases down and demanded we leave immediately. We stepped onto the street, I got my phone out and consulted Uncle Google, and there it was — a wine bar and restaurant less than a minute walk away from the hotel, almost as if I planned it.

Having opted out of a RyanAir chicken curry for dinner we were quite hungry by the time we got here, so looked at the menu for about four seconds before reeling off a load of it at the waiter.

The highlight was the Amarone risotto. For those of you who know nothing, Amarone is a full-bodied wine from the Valpolicella region up the road from Verona. The depth of flavour in this risotto would be enough to get lesser men pissed, it was delightful. Especially if you’re drinking a bottle of Amarone at the same time, as I was — quite literally eating and drinking wine at the same time. Quite, quite dedicated.

There was also:

  • Anchovies with burrata
  • Parma ham
  • Tortellini with truffle and crunchy parmesan

The other thing I liked about this place / Italy in general is telling someone what sort of wine you want and them bringing you a bottle for £35 that’s got 4.3 on Vivino and sells for £28 in shops. LOVELY.

On the second day we had a wander around the Verona arena where lads used to have fights with tigers and shit, got bored of history and went and nailed some Spritz. Remember to choose Campari over Aperol when trying to show off how macho you are.

Then it was time for lunch, I chose Benda because it’s got a funny name and the photos on their Instagram looked intriguing.

Starter of slow cooked egg in a pecorino sauce with truffle was divine.

For main I ordered deer with a sweet and sour sauce (there was no English on the menu and basically winged it). I was a bit nervous, but it was goooooood.

A ‘Bendamisu…’ followed, our first Tiramisu of the trip and it was t’riffic.

The next day I wanted to celebrate the fact I like wine, so arranged for us to go on a wine tasting adventure. Tenuta Santa Maria Valverde was the perfect antidote to a mild 6/10 hangover. We were shown the vines and given an actually interesting talk about how they cultivate their grapes, the subtle breeze floating over the hills from Lake Garda swept the boozy cobwebs from my brain.

Then, the really good bit. We sat down to try three of their wines, a Valpolicella Superior, a Ripasso and an Amarone. They were all excellent, they also brought out local cheeses and salami to go with them. The view wasn’t bad either.

I know what you’re thinking, you’re thinking, “fuck you, with your blog boasting about your holiday eating and drinking nice things,” well, hold your horses. A couple of things, 1) I only do this for you, the valued reader because I want you to go and eat nice food and drink nice booze too. 2) The next place was shit.

It was one of the few meals we didn’t have planned, we’d been sat in Piazza delle Erbe and then wandered towards what looked like some tables and people eating. Ristorante Maffei, looked decent, menu looked decent, it was full of Italians eating things — they know about eating decent things don’t they?

To start, octopus with nduja mayonnaise. The octopus had that slightly too fishy aroma to it where you worry you’ll be shitting yourself for days, and the mayonnaise didn’t taste of nduja at all. A Tagliatelle with ragu main wasn’t much better.

Let’s not dwell though, please let’s not dwell.

Rather than keep going and tell you about everything else I ate I’m just going to tell you some highlights because we’ve all got better things to do with our lives.

Trattoria San Basilio – Black rice, with prawns and chanterelles.

Il Desco – Risotto with peat, onion, tomato and basil

Café Carducci – gnocchi with truffle, and a truffled Brie sauce.

I said I wasn’t going into detail but I will for this place as I bloody loved it. Cute bistro, family run, one man doing all the cooking in a tiny corner behind the bar and knocking out superb food. My wife had steak with an amarone sauce so shiny and delicious I wanted to stare at myself in it and eat me. Do go there if you find yourself in Verona.

There you go, we got there in the end didn’t we. Bless you for getting this far.

We need to talk about hand sanitiser

Look, we’ve discussed face masks until we’re blue in the face…

(See what I did there? More often than not people are wearing those blue face masks. It is indeed a strong start.)

…the argument seems to sit pretty squarly on whether you believe:

A) They are used to prevent you firing globules of infected spittle at strangers.

B) They are part of a loony lefty conspiracy theory designed to hamper your dazzling individuality.

Whatever camp people are in on that, they have almost certainly blindly followed ‘rules’ about hand washing. If they’re not belting out ‘Happy Birthday’ and scrubbing their grubby mitts, they’re squirting hand sanitiser on and rubbing their palms together like flies coming up with a brilliant plan. Has no one stopped to question, “WHY?!” Well, I have.

During lockdown I drank alcohol, I’d have it delivered to my door (more often than not from independent retailers – it’s important to sneak this bit in as a reminder of what a saint I am). In four months I probably drank to excess once or maybe twice, I remember having one vague hangover. Since lockdown ended I’ve had at least four hangovers, three of which would have killed off lesser bloggers.

So, what changed? The excitement of being out of the house? The thrill of being back in pubs and restaurants? No, stop speculating. There is one clear difference.


At home I wasn’t sanitising my hands when walking in and out of the garden, or after going to the toilet. Every pub I’ve been in since though, I’ve applied hand sanitiser at least a couple of times. Can you do the mathematics or do you need me to help? Let me whisper this in your ear, “alcohol.”

Most hand sanitisers have a decent whack of alcohol in them, so when using hand sanitiser in a pub you’re rubbing booze between your hands. This often sends a waft of grog up your nostrils and reminds you that you should drink more.

Is that a problem? Not necessarily. I’m just trying to make you aware.

Not convinced? Fine, it’d be a bit like going into a butchers and rubbing pig blood in between your fingers – you’d end up buying more sausages than you know what to do with wouldn’t you? It’s just a fact.

Be well.

Dishoom – Birmingham

I’m not sure if any of you have noticed but Dishoom have opened in Birmingham.

Birmingham’s top bloggers have probably already covered it, but I thought I’d take it as an opportunity to try and get some traffic to my website.

Then I thought, “hang on, Rob, you could give something back to the blogging community.” So, here’s a guide on how to write a food blog for those of you just starting out.

Ok, begin with some absolutely tedious personal information. Tell the reader that you’ve heard of Indian food before – if you’ve been to India DEFINITELY get that bit in.

Now, maybe go into some detail about the location. Waffle on about the interior for a bit. This bit is important – go to Dishoom’s website and find some information about them / their food and repeat it in your own words, this way it makes it sound like you vaguely know what you’re on about.

Next up, tell the reader that you perused the menu. You perused the absolute fuck out of that menu didn’t you? You naughty peruser.

Did you order a drink? You devil! Tell us!

Food? Say it was mouthwatering. Say something had a ‘chilli kick’.

Put a photo in, why not?

This is a picture of what I ate

Sign off, put a score if you want, say you’ll go back.

Congratulations, you’ve written a food blog and it was a complete waste of everyone’s time.

Restaurants are dead – good

That’s right, restaurants have no place in a post COVID-19 world, and frankly, it’s a good thing.

Restaurants are bad. They’re bad for all sorts of reasons which I’ll explore later in this thought piece, but fortunately a global pandemic has hopefully put an end to them. As a result of Coronavirus the eating landscape has changed and it’s insane to think we let restaurants get away with it for so long.

Here, I’ll put forward just five of the thousands of reasons why restaurants are hopefully a thing of the past.

1. Do I have to book to sit in the living room and eat a delicious home cooked meal or take away? No. Well, unless there’s a Zoom quiz happening in there.

2. Do I have to get out of my dressing gown to eat a delicious home cooked meal or take away? No. Well, unless there’s a Zoom quiz happening.

3. “Can I take your coats?” “Can I get you a drink?” “Would you like to see the wine list? “What would you like to order?” “Do you want dessert?” “Would you like a tea or coffee?” “Can you leave now please?” Imagine the person you eat dinner at home with bombarding you with this many questions, you’d be like, “NO, I AM NOT DOING YOUR ZOOM QUIZ.”

4. Prices. At home if I want to cook a carrot in beef fat it’d probably cost me like 12p or something, it’d be shit, but still 12p.

5. “Order us an Uber.” “I ordered the last one.” “Did you?” “Yes.” “Pretty sure it was me.” “Can we just go home now, please?” “Fine.” None of that if you just need to go upstairs / fall asleep on the sofa with your Zoom still connected so your friends can watch you sleep.

There we are. Pretty damning.

Obviously I don’t actually think this. My god I absolutely can’t wait to be sat in a restaurant with an atmosphere, eating delicious food and drinking too much wine and NOT HAVING TO DO THE FUCKING WASHING UP.

I wrote this after scrolling through my phone and seeing (amidst the constant lockdown cats photos) photos from my birthday dinner at Carter’s, a last minute booking at Harborne Kitchen, a hungover trip to Meat Shack, a weekend in London where I ate at A Wong and Bao and it made me realise how bloody lucky we are to have these places. Then I remembered that article some lunatic wrote trying to say pubs being closed is a good thing.

I really bloody hope all my (and your) favourite ones survive this.

Walkabout – Birmingham

AD / Invited / I don’t know what you’re supposed to put here.

Being an absolute expert at:

A) watching sport
B) drinking
C) eating

It was only a matter of time before the people at Walkabout invited me to visit them.

You see, there is categorically no one in the West Midlands more capable of sitting on their arse, downing pints and eating chips – it’s just a fact.

Even more reason to get me involved is my knowledge of Australia and its ‘culture’, as my ex is an Australian and I lived in Sydney

So, let’s get down (under) to it.

I drank a beer. Heineken to be exact, a golden, fizzy lager from Holland. I could taste the Dutch influence and said to the barman, “dit schreeuwt om dronken te zijn,” – it simply screamed to be drunk.

Being a boy of food, I did eat, as they invited me to eat. I chose a charcoal burger as I thought it’d potentially give me an interesting angle for this blog, I upgraded to have ‘spiral fries’ with it for an extra 50p.


The ‘spiral’ fries also known as ‘curly’ in some circles were edible. Think a normal chip, but in an unexpected shape. Golden, potatoey, crisp – what more could you want?!

charcoal burgerThat brings me on to the burger, what can I say about the burger? Nothing. Nothing nice anyway.

IMG_8531I counted no fewer than 4,000 screens in the venue, which means if, for example, you’re looking for somewhere to watch the remainder of the Six Nations where you can sit down, see a TV, drink beer and eat chips – then Walkabout has you covered.


Gino D’Acampo – My Restaurant – Birmingham

If you like Gino D’Acampo’s face as much as Gino D’Acampo likes his face then you’ll really like Gino D’Acampo’s restaurant. If you like Gino D’Acampo’s face and crap Italian food you’ll fucking love it.

His face is everywhere, it’ll haunt your dreams after visiting – especially bad for those of you who worry about being burgled.

My lunch began with Arancini – mushroom risotto with mozzarella in the middle. I’m a big fan of Arancini, if you’re ever in Rome – there’s nothing nicer than popping into Supplì Roma when you’re halfway through a day of drinking too much and sticking some deep-fried items in your face.

unnamed (3)Gino’s could have been OK, they were crispy and the mozzarella in the middle had melted as you’d expect – the problem was that whoever made the risotto decided not to season it at all. Mozzarella doesn’t taste of much, rice doesn’t taste of much so it didn’t taste of much. There were four on the plate and after eating one and a half I gave up.

The best bit about the starters on offer was how the calamari was served. Someone had the genius idea of putting them on a piece of paper with an Italian newspaper printed on it – Gino is Italian you see.

Cleverly, they settled on La Gazzetta from July 2017 where the lead sport story was about Ajax winger Abdelhak Nouri suffering a cardiac arrest during a game. I don’t know about you, but there’s something about a cardiac arrest that just makes me want to gorge on deep-fried food.
unnamed (4)

Then, here it came – the fettuccine bolognese.

I was pretty certain this was going to be shit, but I was willing to be proved wrong – honest. And talking of honesty, I honestly have no idea how you can make a bolognese sauce with so little meat in it that tastes of nothing. Quite an achievement.

Things were finished off with a tiramisu almost as good as the one from Sainsbury’s.unnamed (6)
The most enjoyable part of the meal was when I got to countdown as the TV showing Gino’s face on a loop went into sleep mode.