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http://chrisneillsdirtykitchen.wordpress.com/
I'm a stand-up comedian and sometimes chaotic cook. You can hear me on BBC Radio programmes quite often on shows like Just A Minute, Broadcasting House and MacAulay & Co where I jabber sixteen to the dozen and often try to get the subject onto food. When I'm not working as a comic, I'm equally happy transforming a pig’s head into a giant wobbling brawn, gutting cuttlefish, or not being able watch my soufflés (sometimes) triumphantly rise as the bulb in the oven has gone.
In 2008 I combined my enthusiasms by presenting a show at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe called Chris Neill's Got A Bun In The Oven where I told jokes about food and cooking (with some knob gags on the side) all the while preparing a variety of venison offal dishes for the audience to chow down on.
Some nights I can’t wait to be over. Trapped on a treadmill, my subconscious seems intent on churning out exhaustingly busy but yet extravagantly dull dreams. One after another they come. Last night, I dreamt I was in the humiliating pos (read full article)
Those of you heavily sedated, or possibly not remotely interested, may not have noticed that summer has arrived in London. But it has and I know this for several reasons. I awoke yesterday with thoughts of disdain for the solitary blanket left atop m (read full article)
Hello. Fortified by a breakfast of bacon, eggs and plenty of bubble and squeak (frankly the only one I’ve ever made that seems quite right) I feel equipped to lift my face, shame scribbled all over it, above my blog’s parapet. I know, I (read full article)
Tonight at 6.30 on Radio 4 I’m on Just A Minute, sitting alongside Josie Lawrence, Paul Merton and Charles Collingwood. On the night of the recording, I sometimes discover that Claire Jones, the producer, gives me a food-related subject. As (read full article)
Following the sage advice of the incomparable Ivy Bean I’m off for my Friday portions. Nothing mucky, thank you very much; just a nice weighty (if I’m lucky) plate of fish and chips, a spoonful of sugar in the tea, plenty of tomato ke (read full article)
In my teens, as friends and I started venturing beyond our well-worn paths of London suburbia, on Saturdays we would visit places like Kensington, Knightsbridge and Chelsea, not so far away from home but alien and foreign places that seemed to occupy (read full article)
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