Jaime at Home

He takes an old cookie tin, throws in some wood chips that he usually uses for his rabbit cages, fresh sprigs of rosemary and sage, and rests chicken wire on top it. He looks into the camera and says, “Now just grab your handy-dandy screwdriver and whack yer holes into the cover of yer tin.” Then he takes two ruby fleshed salmon filets and lays them on top of the chicken wire and secures the cover. “There you go,” he says in his slight cockneyed accent, “Yer get ye self a hot smoker in a biscuit tin!”

Jamie Oliver is one of the youngest and most hailed chefs in Great Britain. Anthony Bourdain says that in England Oliver is treated with the same reverance as the Rolling Stones. In his newest show, Jaime at Home, Oliver brings us into his home andshows us how he uses the spoils from his garden.

Each scene is filmed in a different section of his home: his back shed using an old oven circa 1960’s, in his backyard brick oven, and even in the center of his herb garden over a stone circled fire. It’s a much different show from his earlier production on the Food Network, the Naked Chef. His first show featured his urban flat in London while he prepared meals for his rugby teammates, his gas man, and even the construction workers on the street. This time Jaime seems to be cooking just for himself and perhaps wife, Jools, and daughters, Poppy and Honey.

“The next thing we ‘ave ter to do is make the salsa. Salsa,” he sighs, “Ssalllssaaa!” With confident precision he swiftly slices through chilies of varying colors, cucumber, tomatoes, spring onions, cilantro, and avocado. The jumble of vegetables resembles a painter’s palette. You could say that Jaime is an artist. Like a choreographed dance he moves with deft quickness around the kitchen. He grabs a dash of this and a dash of that, and manages to wipe his brow on his flannel shirt and maybe a quick scratch under his knit hat. There’s an element of mania in his whole process. He constantly uses the word, “Excitin!” to describe what he’s doing. You can see his eyes light up when he sees a vegetable scorch with grill marks or when a piece of flesh that he’s cooked for hours tenderly falls apart with the slight give of his finger. Jaime loves this and he wants you to love it too.

Finally, he takes the smoking tin off the stove top. “Please work,” he says to it, “or I’ll look like a real wanker.” He removes the top and shows the now auburn looking filets inside his homemade smoker. “Don’t worry it’s supposed to look like tha.” He takes a shining antique plate and spoons an initial layer of salsa, reverently places a filet, and spoons another layer of salsa. He lets a few cilantro leaves fall carefree onto the plate, using their haphazardness with great effect. Jamie looks at his masterpiece, tastes it, thinks for a few seconds, and words spill from his mouth uncontrollably. “Oh my god, tha’s delicious.” He smiles and performs a happy dance away from the fish.