As Berry presented her mulled wine, hot geysers of delicate vapour wafted up from lid and pan as if from her flanks and I was reminded of a vampirical Fenella Fielding asking, “Do you mind if I smoke?” Mary Berry’s Christmas message: carry on steaming.The tragic story of Mary, Queen of Scots has been a source of inspiration for artists ever since she was beheaded by Elizabeth I in 1586. But one lovely image felt like someone having a bit of winking fun. These cookery shows are brightly shot to a tried-and-tested formula.

And while AI Christmas synth tunes added background tinsel, she based herself in a cottage erected conveniently close to a snow machine. She also visited a reindeer farm in the Cairngorms with comedian Iain Stirling at his most boisterously cheerful. Why Scotland?Īs with Judi Dench recently co-hosting Countryfile from the Highlands, Berry talked up her memories of Highlands holidays (her mother was also Scottish). Who knew to parboil fennel before roasting? Or that more juice emerges from a lime if you warm it in your hands first? Also, do get someone else to do your finicky julienning off camera like Mary B. Emeli Sandé has the voice of a mighty angel but that aura rather evaporated in the vicinity of a chocolate log.įor the attentive there were some useful culinary tips. Andy Murray looked more cackhand than backhand tasked with chopping herbs for smoked haddock kedgeree. Her Scottish celebrity guests posed a grave threat of this notion. Perhaps it’s also true that if you can watch telly you can cook. There’s a theory that if you can read you can cook. They looked scrumptious if not, as she kept insisting, “deceptively simple”. Also on the menu was more indigenous fare. Her tarte tatin became tartan by virtue of a winter veg slaw side. All, to be fair, were served with a kilted twist.

Hence Mary Berry’s Highland Christmas (BBC Two), in which the patron saint of the rolling pin went north of the border to prep such caber-tossing staples as guacamole and stollen, cheese fondue and bûche du Noël. Then there’s the snowy bob, as pure and immaculate as driven drifts of the white stuff.

She shares her first name with the mother who gave birth on the day in question, her second with those red things you get on holly sprigs. There’s something innately Christmassy about Mary Berry.

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