Needs to mature

Sarky cuties Sue Perkins and Giles Coren took a colourful gallop through medieval dining in the latest in their fun but slightly inchoherent series Supersizers. In the pointless medical at the beginning, moody Sue is diagnosed as melancholic, and famously easy to rile Giles is diagnosed as choleric. Sub-editors round the country may have high-fived at that point.

Still, no-one could accuse them of not getting stuck in. Sue munches on a whole lemon. They try falconry. Sue's sugary pilchards end up in the fire, she decides that all of the food has made her sad and has to brush her teeth with a twig. Sue whips Giles's knackers with a leather strap while he's praying. Martin, the chef, has to try all their food before they eat it ('Martin, are you dead yet?' asks Sue), before doing a cut and shut with a piglet and a cockerel to create a cockatrice, a mythical beast I was obsessed with as a kid.

Lots of interesting facts and mangled history: animals have anglo saxon names, and meat has norman names because after the invasion anglo saxons couldn't afford to eat it. Sue goes in search of the truth behind the damsel in distress, but disappoints a Rapunzel-hunting Giles with her assymetric bob. Giles has a go at jousting despite being scared of horses, then goes on a crusade through the restaurants of the Edgware Road, where he gets his reward in pepper. They do the Canterbury Tales on a National Express coach.

The thing I'm never that fussed about in these shows is the food. I could watch Sue talk about more or less anything, she's fantastically entertaining. As a matter of fact I used to work with Sue in Sherratt and Hughes bookshop in Croydon Whitgift Centre in the late 80s, and she was absolutely as she appears on Supersizers - quick-witted, absurd and very dry. She's going to develop into a classic English eccentric. And Giles, well, he's so pretty I could watch him do anything and quietly swoon. His dad was ace, and let's hope Coren junior follows in his footsteps and blossoms into a wizened old wit. They're pretty wee things now, but I have a feeling that it's not till they're old that they're going to really make sense.