Okay, right from the outset, I'd just like to note that I was quite possibly the last person in the entire country to watch this, which I did last week:



Yes, yes, you may now take away my lulz license, for I have revealed myself to be so slow on the uptake that all my years spent being an early adopter of nearly everything else on the internet may as well be dust.

Side note: wasn't PRC a dude??



No wonder the mums loved him.

But apart from that, and introducing the phrase "and fucken fry the cunts 'til they turn black ya prick" into my everyday lexicon, the Peter Russell Clarke blooper reel served a greater purpose: it reminded me how endlessly comforting '80s food television is.

Perhaps it's because a gale is currently blowing sleet at 90 degree angles outside my window, but when midwinter sets in, I find myself wanting to fire up a Crock Pot and serve up all manner of steaming hot BROWN food.

The first thing I do when I want to feel like I've rolled up in the warm doona of '80s revivalism is roll out this incredible Australian Pizza Hut ad from 1981:



IT'S GOING TO BE ALRIGHT.

If only anything in this god-forsaken world were as reassuring as that ad.

Anyway, forgetting for a second that PRC has the foulest mouth this side of Nurse Nightingale in this Big Train sketch, the great thing about YouTube is that it has reminded me of how - in weather like this - I used to sit rugged-up on the couch and watch Come And Get It with Peter Russell Clarke and drool over all the amazing things he'd cook (usually featuring eggs and/or Coon cheese):



Not that the Australians held the patent on appealing TV chefs (cooking appalling '80s food), either. Let's hear it for the late, great Keith Floyd: 



There's not much else to add to this post, really, other than that I highly recommend, when the weather turns sour and your mood dips below freezing, diving into the Margaret Fulton cookbook or New Idea editions and whipping up a massive serving of '80s nosh and then getting under the doona and watching the best of the decade's food television.

Or, should I say, fucken cook yourself some cunting grub, ya prick, and watch the bloody boob tube until your fucken eyes turn black.