Masterchef (BBC Two, Monday, 8.30pm) is a funny old programme since reality TV went wombling overground. Once upon a time, it felt like the foodie equivalent of Mastermind… all bleak and high tension with a slight smell of leather and snobbishness. Now? Well, after the Celebrity Masterchef shows, people have seemed to come ’round to the idea of watching it and simply enjoying.

Last night’s show, the first in the new series of the non-celebrity version, saw a bunch of people aiming for the top with their knives and ingredients. Like I said, since Big Brother happened, we get to see everyone in a pile scrambling over each other. Of course, some of the contestants just wanna cook… others however want to beat their chest a bit first.

The most notable chest-beater in last night’s programme was a lass called Katie. Katie was competitive to the point of nausea. Instead of enjoying the experience, Katie misunderstood “passion for cooking” for a shark-like killer instinct. She went into a cold stare and told us that she wanted “to be criticised on a professional level” ‘kay? I suppose that’s fair enough, but she already had my back up when she started the show by saying “the other five aren’t Masterchefs because they don’t want it as bad as me”. Me, ever the child, sniggered at her disappointment when she got the boot.

Onto the more successful competitors now. Rhys, a pimply 22 year, invented a dish with juniper berries, pork and chocolate sauce. It looked horrible, but it was interesting and curious. Naturally, this saw him go through to the second half of the show… and quite right too. It’s boldness in the best possible way… not like Katie and her lust for blood. Then we had James. Now, James is a barrister (or bannister as a young boy in my family once said of his father’s job) which gave him that posh kind of confidence that people like me dream of having. He made good food, even if it lacked the spark demanded by Torode and Wallace, but through he went.

Shaun was next and was an instantly likeable big bloke who was laid back and adventurous. In the pro-kitchen (when they send the contestants out to be shouted at by an Italian chap in whites) Shaun excelled. He also looked a bit like Christian Karembeu who played for France and married model Adriana Sklenaříková. Greg Wallace confirms that his “flavour is immense”. Of course, if you read that like Craig David, it’s quite funny… if you read it like I’m talking about one of his dishes, it’s not funny at all. I suggest that sir goes for the Craig David. Anyway, after a promising dish, he’s sent home thanks to the high standard of James’ cooking and the risky daring of Rhys’ food. Of the two, James, clearly a good rounded cook, isn’t exactly setting the TV alight with insane methods and sparky personality… but no matter, he wins the show, which is perhaps testament to Masterchef… not a sucker for a tap dancer with a sob story.

As ever, the show was hosted by John Tirode who still can’t put food in his mouth properly. Torode shovelled food into his gob like it was going out of fashion and his promise to “put my arms around you and kiss you fair and square on the lips” to the young Rhys made for quite a disgusting spectacle (in my mind). If the food was any better, hell, it may have dropped his trousers as well.

Between the cooking, sniping and hosting, we were treated to an insane amount of dance music. The Masterchef kitchen features house, drum ‘n’ bass, nu-skool something or other… it’s a big fat stinking rave! In fact, that leads me neatly to a point. Even though this show is aching to show how hip it is, it’s actually quite amazing to see what Masterchef has become. Think of it years ago. An expansive sterile soulless kitchen with Lloyd Grossman sniffing around square plates and the like. Now, the show is vibrant and modern. Okay, it takes itself very very very seriously, but it’s watchable and pretty pleasing viewing. I remember thinking (years ago) that Masterchef was snobby and boring… now, it’s more inviting and friendly on the eye. There’s more Masterchef tonight (BBC Two, 8.30pm), so why don’t you kick your shoes off and join in the fun?