Have I told you guys about that time I made a guest appearance on MasterChef and got dragged to within an inch of my life on Twitter? https://twitter.com/202natt/status/1249795707365711872

Okay okay. So when I was at uni, MasterChef came to film an episode where the contestants had to cook for students at my college. I actually missed out on the initial ticket allocation, but managed to bribe my way in.

Something told me this would be an important day for me.

So the starters start coming out. It's a salmon trio (still remember), and it's supposed to come with a serving of chutney.

Unfortunately the contestant underestimated how much chutney she'd need. By the time I'm served - she's run out of chutney.

I am chutney-less.

TV producers being TV producers, they obviously want to hype this up and make it into a big drama. They ask anyone if they'd like to speak on camera about missing out on chutney.

Sensing this could be my big break, my shot at stardom, I volunteer and give it my all.

"The salmon trio starter was nice," I begin smiling.

My face drops.

"But it was slightly RUINED by the fact it didn't have any chutney."

The producers are obviously delighted. They film a few other students, but I know in my heart I've got the role.

Production wraps. I wait.

Months go by, and finally we get notice that our episode is due to air. It is a BIG event. Everyone gathers in the common room to watch.

I am so confident that I'll be featured on the show that I even pre-emptively make a Facebook status telling people to tune in:

Of course the producers have padded the episode HEAVILY with footage of stereotypically posh Oxford students, boys in blazers, sweeping shots of the quads etc. etc.

They've also suggested this is how we eat every day, which is a lie. The food in college was horrendous.

Basically they've gotten the public all riled up, and ready to tear down these posh Oxford gits.

And then I appear, complaining that my salmon trio, consumed in a 15th century dining hall with table placements and waiters in suits, doesn't have enough chutney.

Twitter loses it.

I start to realise that this might not be playing out quite how I'd wanted it to, as evidenced by the comments I begin to post on my initial Facebook status:

People aren't happy. Someone calls me "glassy-eyed". Someone else calls me a "shrew" (???). A friend of mine very kindly created a Twitter account to retweet all the abuse, which you can find here (he later pivoted to defending me): https://twitter.com/annobserver69 

Jack! Whitehall! tweets about me:

Anyway. That's pretty much it. I found it all incredibly funny at the time, and dined out on that story for months (years?). If you've enjoyed this then honestly you will love my memoir because it is full of petty humiliations just like this

Oh wait, that's not it.... I've found the footage.

Who wants to see it?

I can't heeeeear you? I SAID!

Who. Wants. To. See. The. Footage?

Here it is. I'm complaining about the lack of chutney at about 4.50, but if you really want to appreciate the full dramatic value of how the producers edited it, I'd recommend you start at 3.36, where John Torode says "You've run out of chutney guys"

Oh fuck I completely forgot about the Twitter account EYE created to try and turn the tide slash pivot to being a chutney influencer.