The shorthand explanation of Nigella’s success is to call her the U.K.’s Martha Stewart, but that would be missing the point. Most cookbooks and food shows are about control, precision, and fear of doing something incorrectly. In Nigellaworld, the kitchen is not a science lab with rigid rules and formulas to follow. It’s a place to play, sometimes with your friends and kids.
Whereas Martha sets the perfect table, Nigella slaps a few plates of mezedes on the breakfast counter and uses paper towels for napkins. Whereas Martha projects an aura of prim domesticity, Nigella drinks Taittinger and eats bacon sandwiches (made with white bread)—and sometimes licks her fingers when she’s done. Whereas Martha is concerned with perfection, Nigella is unbothered by mess and clutter. Says John: “The truth is, Nigella cannot wrap a present to save her life, any more than she can pack a suitcase, arrange a bunch of flowers, or use a vacuum cleaner. Her office is like the books section of an ancient pawnshop in one of the poorer Indian cities, and were it not that I throw a fit every so often, our bedroom would look like the transit department of a clothes-for-refugees charity.”
Indeed, when one of her more sanitary viewers criticized Nigella for not tying back her hair, she simply said: “It’s my house and I’ll do what I like. What people like about my program is that it is not clinical. Who wants to live in such a purified world?”
As the burn marks on her arms indicate, Nigella is also a klutz. “About nine years ago, she was having a dinner party and managed, while taking the meat out of the oven, to set her hair on fire,” recalls author Salman Rushdie, who was notoriously photographed dancing with Nigella while suffering the deprivations of fatwa. “It was spectacular. Luckily, I managed to cover her head with my jacket before she was seriously burned. Afterwards she looked a little pink, but otherwise continued to eat and chat as if nothing much had happened.”
The kitchen of this Domestic Goddess is divided into two areas. In the workspace, dish racks are bowed from the weight of too many plates, and the shelves are packed with appliances, some crusty with use, others gleaming new. The other area contains a large table surrounded by three walls of books. Two white cats, Tom and Miuccia, lick each other inside their Burberry-plaid cat box.
It’s 9 a.m., and John is whizzing up a high-fat liquid meal in the blender while the production team for Nigella’s new television series is waiting for the star to arrive. Nigella breezes in carrying three bags of croissants, sticky pastries, and cheese. “I’m not a girl known to be undercatered,” she says, laying out the pastry and then sitting down with three plum-size chunks of Parmigiano-Reggiano, which she offers to no one else.
The producer talks about lighting and camera angles. Nigella nods respectfully. “Say ‘T-shirt’ to me when this is over,” she says to no one in particular.
The new programs, the producer says, need more personality. Stronger themes. More anecdotes about how she comes upon recipes. Nigella nods in agreement, wiping her perfect lips on her sleeve. “The tone is what I want to work on. There’s too much of this modern idea of spending less time in the kitchen, that it’s a depressing place, that real life is lived outside of it. My point is that the kitchen isn’t a place to escape from, it’s a place to escape to.”
The first series worked hard at making her approachable. Cooking segments were intercut with snippets of Nigella dropping the kids at school or visiting the butcher. Though she says she felt “cringy and slightly embarrassed” about those segments, they allowed viewers a peek into her coveted West London life.
The team checks off the themes for the next series: The Lazy Cook’s Guide to Dinner, All-Day Breakfast, and Temple Food. Nigella insists that this last show, a segment on dieting, not be the first in the series, lest viewers get the wrong idea. “The other thing,” she says, “is that we should do the familiar. For Slow-Cook Weekend, I can do a standard roast pork but give tips on making the crackling.” Nods of agreement all around, followed by lengthy debates on the virtues of mashed potatoes with the peels, and on whether Leftovers is worthy of its own show. When they reach the topic of Trashy Food, Nigella lights up.
“Everyone is such a purist about using only the best and simplest ingredients, but different types of food also taste good. Butterscotch pie, for example, will never be chic, but it is delicious. It has to be playful.” She insists on including one of her favorite recipes: Ham and Coca-Cola.
As the meeting winds down, one producer remembers her original request and says, “T-shirt.”
“Oh yes, darling, do me a favor and pass that tape measure.”
From a Tiffany pouch, Nigella removes a sterling silver tape and stretches it across her bust. “Eight and a half inches,” she announces, explaining that she’s appearing on the popular TV quiz show Have I Got News for You. She’s nervous because the presenters are quick wits and she’s just not funny. To lighten the mood, she’s ordered a tight black T-shirt with the word “delia” in gold sequins on the front, just as Madonna recently did with Britney. She’s pleased with this small touch of pop self-reference. “The stylist needs to know the size of my bust so the entire name falls between my nipples.”
Pinterest
