I’m loving Celebrity MasterChef at the moment. There’s the new series (which comes to a conclusion this Friday) and there are plenty of repeats of past series on UKTV Food, which is good, because I can’t get enough of it. I’m a sucker for a good food show, and this is among the very best.

I remember when MasterChef was cosy, Sunday-afternoon viewing, with Lloyd Grossman and his strange, elongated Anglo-American vowels that would precipitate something so cloyingly middle class it would almost make me vomit. Now the show has been re-invented as edgy, fast-paced primetime entetainment. And it works because the presenting team of John Torode and Gregg Wallace are top-notch.

We have John, the dry, acerbic Aussie, who has cooked really rather well on other shows like Saturday Kitchen and loves his Thai and Asian-infused flavours, and we have Gregg, a salt-of-the-earth geezer, who has presented Saturday Kitchen (and was criminally dumped in favour of Antony Worrall Thompson, before he waddled off to ITV’s rubbish equivalent) and writes about vegetables for the Radio Times.

They make a great couple. And a couple in ever sense of the word. You remember those theories about Top Gun really portraying a homoerotic subtext (first suggested by Quentin Tarantino in the film Sleep With Me)? That same reading could, I think, be applied to MasterChef. I really do.

Before John and Gregg’s lawyers get hot under the collar, I’m not suggesting that either of them are gay (nothing wrong with being a gayman in my opinion), but the way their little out-of-kitchen chats are edited suggests heavy flirting.

Shot of John, looking at Gregg:
“Roger cooks REALLY well, but we’re looking for superior skills here. MastChef skills.”

Gregg, looking at John:
“But he mucked up his Beurre Blanc sauce, and that’s unforgivable. Has he really got what it takes John?”

John looks at Gregg…

Gregg looks at John…

John winks at Gregg…

Gregg, looking at John:
“I love you John”

OK, so they’ve never had a conversation like that on camera… but the editing of their discussions make me laugh. So serious, so soundbitey and so scripted. I often imagine that they go home together, share a candle-lit meal and a bottle of wine, and their conversations are edited together in exactly the same fashion.

John, looking at Gregg, dressed in a deep red, crushed velvet smoking jacket:
“We’re looking for some REALLY good television tonight Gregg. Real understanding of what it is to entertain someone, something really special.”

Gregg, gazes at John, dressed in a toga:
“BBC1 has everything, it’s beautifully presented, is full of tasty stuff. But do we go for Channel 4? It has real potential but could do with brushing up its presentation skills. And five is so young and experienced…”

John looks and Gregg:
“I think this is a tough decision. Do we go for the experienced, safe pair of hands or the channel with real potential?”

Gregg looks at John, glasses starting to slide down his nose:
“John, it’s the hardest decision yet…”

So does this homoerotic subtext make me love John and Gregg alone? No. I like the way, in this series, Gregg has started to taste things differently. He takes a spoonful, leans forward, puts the food in his mouth and holds it there, as well as spoon, in his mouth for a second or two before taking it ALL into his mouth. He’s trying to look serious, and has perfected a tasting technique to rival that of any good wine taster. He also likes a good crumble, and that’s alright by me.

These two are so very good together, and I want them to get married and have long, horny scripted chats in front of the fire for the rest of their lives. Failing that, loads more series of MasterChef will do me fine.