Delicious

My name is Leo Vincent and I'm a professional chef.

This is my hotel, The Penrose.

People travel miles to eat here. I'm a success.

I've got an amazing wife and two incredible children.

My life is perfect.

Unfortunately, it's about to be completely and utterly screwed.

But food is my first and only love.

And that's no secret.

Food made my fortune - real food.

Delicious food.

Sicilian food.

Quaglia ripiena.

Panelle, caponata.

- How long for the polenta? - Ten seconds, Chef!

The problem is...I stole it all.

Every recipe,

every idea, it was all hers.

It all belonged to Gina Benelli.

Temperamental, stubborn and rude.

More like me than anyone I've ever known.

Which is probably why I divorced her.

This is my second wife, Sam.

She's beautiful, intelligent and a wonderful mother.

She's also convinced I'm cheating on her.

She's right.

- Is everything all right? - It's very good. Thank you.

How's she working out, the new manager?

Sophie, isn't it?

Suzy? Great. A smart cookie.

Lots up top. In fact, she reminds me of you.

I've got to go.

This is our son, Michael.

I used to look like that when I was 17.

It had certain advantages.

I just... I just never thought...

you were the kind of woman that was even

into the whole relationship thing.

No.

No, I mean, relationships?

Yuck!

You're really sure?

Yeah. Of course you're right. We should keep it casual.

Yeah. Of course.

Meet Teresa, my daughter.

She has what they politely call "a condition":

aquagenic urticaria -

allergic to water.

So she takes precautions everywhere she goes.

- Don't make me beg you. - I'm not going.

- He's your brother. - He is my half-brother.

But he has invited you.

He's invited every girl in Cornwall.

Sorry, every blonde in Cornwall.

So you can really stand out.

Oh, please come. Even if it's just for me. I hate parties.

- You love parties. - No, I don't.

I pretend, like everybody does.

And this party is deep in enemy territory.

I need someone that I can trust.

We can have each other's backs.

Will there be snipers there?

With your father, anything's possible.

I'll take that as a "yes", then?

No. It's a no.

But you can borrow my bulletproof vest.

Mm, ice cream! Lovely.

You could have this if you said yes.

I've eaten already.

No. You missed breakfast.

- You need to eat. - I need to go.

So, the party?

I'll think about it.

All women think their husbands are cheating on them.

It's basically our default position.

- You think I'm imagining it? - I think you need evidence.

You've checked his credit cards? His phone?

- What? You think I should? - Absolutely.

Men are creatures of habit.

Simple, repetitive patterns of behaviour.

We know that he's done this before.

That was different.

Leo and I were in love.

God...

Gina must have hated me if I made her feel like this.

Doesn't that mean she'd know exactly what to look for?

What?

- You think I should ask her? - It's what I'd do.

What makes you think I'll tell you the truth?

Oh, because I think...

Well, I hope we've been able to put the past behind us.

And it's driving me mad. I can't sleep.

I need to know and I think you can help me.

Nothing. That's what changed.

Nothing. There were no signs, nothing was different.

One day, he was my husband and the next day he belonged to you.

- You think I'm making it up? - These are for service tonight.

Try it.

Mm.

Delicious.

My mother, Mimi.

No one knows why she's called that. She just is.

She worked at Bletchley during the war.

Hitler never stood a chance.

I swear it's getting even easier.

I may have to write to them.

I mean, look...

One across.

Four letters: "Type of rock, typically sweet". Ha!

Oh, "glam", obviously.

I may have to decamp to the Guardian.

Compiled by half-wits, but these are desperate times.

Salmon needs sauce.

There's no sauce.

Now you know why I hate cooking for you.

Or seasoning.

Rosa was very clear about the salt risk.

Your blood pressure's too high.

Mm, this is lovely.

Thank you.

Creep.

No, it's really, really healthy.

You know, I've got to watch my salt intake, so...

- Hey. - (Chuckles)

I'm sorry.

I know you're just trying to look out for me

and I appreciate it, really.

Will you forgive me?

You're horrible.

Right.

I'll see you later.

- Where are you going? - Evening service.

- I thought I'd told you. - Well, can't Franco do it?

Not tonight. I can't risk him tonight.

A Michelin inspector's been spotted in Dartmouth.

Every executive chef west of Exeter's cooking tonight.

Voilà. The classic Michelin man.

Dining alone. BMI issues.

Used to carry notebooks, but now it's always an iPad.

Of course, they're fooling no one.

Franco! Franco! He's here. It's table four.

- How long for the bean ragout? - Two minutes, Chef!

Where the hell is Leo?

But he left two hours ago. Something about a Michelin man.

Oh, OK.

Here he is. He just walked in.

Sorry to bother you.

Mm!

Now...

Now try this.

Latest creation.

Mm. That's amazing.

- Seriously. - Mm.

Is it...saffron?

- With a hint of sour cherry. - (Chuckles)

- (Both laugh) - You're far too good for me.

Do you think I'm getting fat?

Vain, maybe. Not fat.

You need to tell her, Leo.

She knows.

About us?

About you.

And someone called Sandy?

Oh, Suzy.

Oh, I wish.

There's nothing going on between me and Suzy.

No, what you're telling me is she suspects.

And there's a big difference.

Yeah, well, this time, she suspects right.

Yeah, I just... I don't think the timing...

No. I'm not going to lie to her.

And neither are you.

It's hard having a younger wife.

More pressure.

I think I've done quite well.

I still have hair.

I can't bloody pee, though.

Obviously, I was gonna lie to her.

But you knew that, right?

Looks like rain.

Seriously?

It's mad. How can anyone be allergic to water?

Believe it or not,

my medical condition isn't the most interesting thing about me.

You could be on the Discovery Channel or something. Seriously.

The Girl Killed By Rain or something.

Thanks. I'll add that to my bucket list.

So have you decided... about summer?

Erm...yeah, yeah. We're all going to Bali.

The whole crowd.

- You're going to Bali? - Mm.

- It's in Indonesia, I think. - Yeah, I know where it is.

Sure.

Super Brain Benelli.

You should come. It'd be great if you came.

Do you want me to come?

Yeah. It'll be amazing.

- So, will I see you tomorrow? - What's tomorrow?

Michael's 18th. It's at the hotel.

- There's food, right? - What do you think?

You're absolutely sure?