Esther McCarthy: Nigella Lawson does something filthy in bed and it's too much for me

You would not find me eating in the sheets

Perhaps it’s just me, but I feel that eating a bed bowl is not a treat

I like a bit of filth in the bedroom as much as the next person, as long as the next person isn’t Nigella Lawson. She has taken it a step too far.

In a recent interview, my favourite domestic goddess has revealed something so disturbing, so disgusting, so grubby, that I don’t think I can ever look at her the same way again.

Are you ready for this?

She casually revealed to The Times, that she is, and I quote, “very pro eating in bed”. Nigella! You dirty birdy.

“I will eat absolutely anything in bed except something that needs a knife and fork. It has to be either fingers or a spoon,” she said.

This is hard for me to wrap my head around. What kind of sheet-staining insanity is this? Maybe she is being provocative and is leaning towards creating a specific sultry image of foodie sexiness in the readers’ mind?

You know the sort of thing. Food is an aphrodisiac, right? Culinary cuisine is a lot of people’s love language. I’m up for feast fest any time sweet cheeks, but don’t expect me to eat it half propped up in the leaba, trying not to get sauce on the duvet. I’m a messy eater at the best of times. I once found a piece of popcorn wedged in my bra at work. Who knows how long it had been there?

But this is Nigella, queen of the perfectly timed lip lick. It’s not a stretch to imagine her looking sultry in silk, propped on satin pillows, playfully dangling a grape into her luscious gob, right?

But honestly, all I can envision is her in a hair net using her mouth as a hoover to get those last biscuit crumbs off her dressing gown.

She says that the meals she cooks for herself “are not often actual recipes”.

“They’re just cooking in a pan and building up a feast for this little bowl. I often just eat out of a bowl with a spoon,” she says.

Perhaps it’s just me, but I feel that eating a bed bowl is not a treat. It hasn’t ever really worked any time I’ve tried at home anyway. Hotels and holidays don’t count, obviously.

At home, it’s uncomfortable, and I don’t know, it just kinda feels lazy to me.

Aside of course, from the wonderfully well-meaning Mother’s Day mornings involving trays offering scraped toast, suspicious ‘tea’ with unidentified floating bits and one memorable year, an entire plant that was pulled up from my flower bed and smooshed into a vase, I will not consciously choose to consume food or any types of beverages in bed.

Well, glass of water by the bedside table is acceptable. As is downing a bedtime Dioralyte in a desperate bid to get ahead of a hangover the next morning. That falls under the self-care column rather than the ‘I-may-attract-rodents’ side of things and doesn’t count.

I once witnessed a mouse dance across my headboard, like a little furry Flatley, he was. It wasn’t anything to do with crumbs in the room, and it was decades ago at this stage, but it haunts me still.

There are plenty of other places, upright places, with napkins and utensils and sturdy surfaces to do your dining. Snacks on the sofa? Fine. But come on, you wouldn’t put a tele in the utility room, or shove a desk in toilet, so just let’s keep it civilised, shall we? Let’s keep the bedroom as nature intended. In our house, my husband and I use ours strictly for sleeping, hiding on the kids, and on Valentine’s Day, anniversaries, and birthdays… a lie in.

What did you think I was going to say? Dirty birdy yourself.

Nigella published her first cookbook in 1998, How to Eat, and I don’t remember it saying anywhere in that transcendental tome about slurping pasta in the scratcher.

I’m just sad it’s come to this. This is the woman who has inspired legions. We look to her for culinary creativity. Who amongst us hasn’t been enchanted by her flirty instructions as she devises her decadent chocolate puddings, who can deny a dreamy sigh as she coos to us about her buttery thighs for the Coq au Riesling? Not me.

And let’s be honest, based on her TV shows, you couldn’t fault the lady’s hosting skills. She knows how to throw a dinner party, that one.

I wouldn’t be surprised if she was in the pocket of Big Fairy Lights though. The twinkle in her eye is only barely beat by the thousands strewn around her patio. Anyway, I read the rest of the interview, turns out Ms Lawson has a new campaign with Ocado coming up. They are a British grocery home delivery service and she is helping them promote their solo suppers. So you know what? Good on her for using those come-to-bed eyes on herself. She knows better than most that sharing your bed with something that is guaranteed to make you feel satisfied is the healthy choice to make.

Postscript: May it be noted I didn’t make any sausage references, and there were so many opportunities. It really shows me growing as an individual.