oooooooh! There is a second season of Nigella’s Christmas Kitchen! Huzzah. Every night this week! Huzzah again! OK, it’s on BBC2 and I live in the U.S. but such trifles never stopped me before and they will not stop me now.

OK, it is no more realistic than the last series. None of us really buy Nigella hauling a massive Christmas tree through the streets and into the house all by her white wool coat-wearing self. With nary a needle out of place. I don’t care.

I don’t care if it’s her real day to day kitchen. I don’t care if she doesn’t really have vodka wrapped in red sequins in the freezer.  I don’t care if she really knows the people swarming around her “house” or not. I don’t care if that lump in the freezer really is left over ostrich meat from her more adventurous phase or something left over from Bruno’s last science project. No, don’t care a whit. I just want to be tucked in with phrases like ‘luscious Eastern promise’ (the lamb tagine) and ‘plumptious beauties’ (the cranberries). Sure, it’s gastroporn but so what. At least it’s high-brow gastroporn.

The food looks fab. She looks fab. In fact, I am relieved to tell you the truth. She was teetering towards frowsy in a few episodes of Nigella Express. (Teetering, mind you. Not all the way there. But I was worried.) The food not only looks fab, it sounds fab – her presentation is, as usual, over the top with adjectives, warmth and coziness. It is ALL Nigella should be.

If it’s all a lie – I don’t want the truth.  Go on, lie to me.  Tell me a story. I just want to curl up with this program like I do a good book and put myself in the holiday mood.

And look! A Nigella drinking game. Hilarious. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that. I must try it next time I have friends round.