The Traitors, breakfast theory and a fateful pain au chocolat
Did a French pastry seal the fate of a contestant on Britain's best TV show?
What to watch this week: The Traitors (BBC)
Mild spoilers up to episode three below
So, here we are, one week into the new year; what are we watching? You may have heard that the BBC had an absolutely stellar Christmas, what with 19.11 million people watching Gavin & Stacey (I’m sorry, I can’t, don’t hate me) and Wallace & Gromit’s Vengeance Most Fowl pulling in 16.29 million (this was indeed excellent, and my personal high point of December 25 viewing). But if we’re talking about the absolute peak, the very zenith of British TV making, well, she crash landed back into our lives on New Year's Day.
You simply cannot convince me that there’s a better British show on TV than The Traitors. A gameshow that’s so high camp it could almost be a pantomime (the funeral procession from the last series was one of my TV moments from the decade); it starts off as a cutesy, we’re-all-in-this-together survival-type show, then encourages lying, double-crossing and betrayal between contestants on such a level that it should be illegal. Sure, it’s a murder mystery show, in which three chosen traitors have to bump off the gang of faithfuls without being unmasked; but this wicked game knows no depths to how low people will go to win. It goes without saying that being the all-seeing, all-knowing viewer at home, it’s just delicious to watch.
I like it as it reminds me of the lawless early days of Big Brother – Nasty Nick walked so that Paul Gorton could run – but it’s all just so silly and melodramatic, too, so you never forget you’re watching a gameshow. From the Traitors skulking around the Scottish castle in hooded black silk gowns, huddled over a fire pit and writing their little murder letters (stamping them with a wax seal!); to host Claudia Winkleman delivering news mock-solemnly to the contestants like a Shakespearean soliloquy, the whole thing is a hoot. Or, a peacock’s scream, that the show is obsessed with.
The Traitors has totally revived reality TV, and because it’s all in the name of winning the game, it allows contestants to be able to play the villain (which always makes for great TV) but it’s not going to ruin their lives after the cameras stop rolling. Just see last series’ Diane Carson, who’s now iconic game-plan revelation (“Paul just couldn’t be my son…but Ross is!”) and rose-drinking has made her an instant hun; a “gay icon” diva-ing her way into numerous personal appearances, starring on Celebrity MasterChef and even a Lidl advert. See, everybody’s having fun! Nobody’s taking this actually seriously at all!
Early favourite moments in this third series have been the too-smart-for-her-own-good Yin’s rational for being killed-off (“It's like a mayfly or a lunar moth, which is a famous moth that lives for only day but shines very brightly and then is extinguished for evermore”, sure); Charlotte’s bizarre decision to fake a Welsh accent for the entirety of the show; and traitor Linda’s terrible over-acting to “prove” she’s not actually a traitor. My only criticism is that it only airs Wednesday to Friday evenings: go nightly, you cowards! Please. It’s the only thing keeping my S.A.D. at bay in this depressing month.
What are they eating and drinking on The Traitors?
A focus point of every episode is the glorious morning breakfast buffet, a spread of pastries, fruit, meats and cheeses, where the contestants reassemble to find out who has been murdered in the night. While there’s some online conspiracy theories going on about how the contestants should look to who are the final people to enter the room to work out who isn’t the traitor, perhaps a better tactic would be to see what and how people are eating as to where they lie on the old deception front.
Take Armani. One of the three traitors who thought that overconfident was the way to play the game (telling her other two fellow traitors that they needed to step it up); it felt like she sealed her own fate at the very moment when she aggressively chomped into a pain au chocolat. “I want a pain au chocolat, mate!” she announced to the room, swaggering up to the table. Wouldn’t a faithful actually be too nervous to eat? Who would build up a plate of food so confidently like they didn’t have a care in the world? However, that evening it became a real pain; when she was banished and unmasked. Perhaps nibbling quietly on some scrambled egg on toast might have been a better breakfast move.
Meanwhile, traitor Linda (“Oh my god who the hell is not going to come back???”) uses her food to stop her from having to roll out another soap-opera performance. Can’t lie if your mouth is full! *taps side of her forehead*. Genius, Linda. “Are you a traitor?” “Mmmppghgh..sowwy…let me jush finishhh this…mouthfull”.
What to eat and drink while you’re watching The Traitors
Inspired by Armani’s last overly-cocky breakfast in the castle; try this twist on a bread and butter pudding, which would work for a brunch situation (I’m reminded of an amazing pain perdu — a fancy French version of b&b pudding — I had in an incredible Court Of Two Sisters brunch in New Orleans, once), or some dessert snacking while you catch up with The Traitors of an evening (it’s on at 9pm, BBC One, Wednesday through Friday, btw).
Pain au chocolat bread and butter pudding
Serves 4 to 6
Ingredients
6 pain au chocolat, cut into 2cm thick slices
4 egg yolks
3 tablespoons of caster sugar, plus extra for sprinkling
300ml milk
300ml double cream
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Method
Put the oven on at 180°C/160°C fan and grease a medium sized oven dish with butter.
Whisk the egg yolks with the sugar until light and pale, then add in the milk, cream and vanilla and give another good whisk.
Place the cut up pain au chocolats into the dish, and pour the egg and cream mixture over them. Leave to sit and soak in for 15 minutes.
Sprinkle a little sugar on the top and bake for around 30 minutes, or until golden on top.
Serve and enjoy, without the taste of treachery.
To drink: let’s keep it brunch-inspired, but make it spicy. Why not toss a shot of that Baileys you’ve inevitably got lying about into a cup of coffee? The traitors aren’t the only ones who can be a secret squirrel in this game.
Cheers!