I am the victim of my own schoolgirl crush these days. I’ve unnervingly found that I have a full-on, giggle and blush crush on Jamie Oliver. For those who don’t know him, he’s a young British chef who focuses on real food that is prepared and presented almost peasant-style. Now Jamie is an attractive enough guy, but he’s totally not my regular man-crush type.
I’ve tried to make sense of this crush, but to no avail. I don’t know if it’s the way he caresses and then roughly manhandles his chicken. Or the way he seems to impart tenderness and respect on random vegetables. Perhaps it’s his down and dirty British accent or his devil-may-care style and hair. Part of me wonders if it’s the simple fact that he’s a man who loves to cook and also tends a beautiful, though wild garden.
Last weekend I found myself eating extra turkey and stuffing (deliciously prepared by my mother-in-law) fuelled by the thought that it was Jamie’s recipe and he may be eating the exact same meal…truly bizarre stuff. Now don’t fear, I have no inclinations to begin writing him fan mail or taking trips to England to hunt down his garden and steal sprigs of rosemary as a remembrance. I’m content with admiring him from afar through the Food Network. And I may just buy one of his cookbooks (confident that it’s his home-style meals and not his adorable lisp that stimulate the purchase).
I do think that my husband has noticed my slight infatuation. I barely managed to suppress a slight squeal when I found the W network was rerunning the Naked Chef series. I caught Adam’s raised eyebrow when I sighed in pleasure while Jamie prepared pork chops in my living room. But he’s smart enough to know that this latest crush may just result in some new delicious meals on the table so he says nothing. Good lad.
So Jamie, do tell: Do you like me too? Check Yes or No!