Jamie Oliver divides people into two camps - those who find him admirable and inspiring, if a bit irritating, and those who find him just irritating.
I fall into the former group, but whatever your opinion of the man, you cannot argue with the scope of his work. The kitchen's likeliest lad has evolved into a campaigner for healthy food, a charity patron, an entrepreneur, and now in his latest guise, a food historian.
Jamie's Great Britain is not exactly gimmick free - it does, after all, see Oliver trundling around the country in a mobile pub called The Cock in Cider (oo'er missus). However, under the cheeky exterior lies a deeply serious, if increasingly portly man. And this is his quest to get to grips with our nation's food - not just stuff cooked by the natives, mind, but the contribution of more or less everyone who has settled here, including the Jews.
Oliver stopped in Leeds to sample chicken soup and kneidls prepared by three Leeds ladies, Dorrie, Sarah and Marcia.
