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January can only mean one thing: The Traitors is back. For those of you who haven’t been initiated into this cloaks-and-daggers drama, the premise is simple: the traitors attempt to remove players by ‘murdering’ them, while the faithfuls try to work out who the traitors are. Each night the group votes someone off after a round-table discussion. It’s real-life Cluedo, with extra high-camp theatrics – hooded robes, crossed-out portraits, handwritten messages, crocodile tears and croissants in the breakfast room – all under the watchful fringe of Claudia Winkleman. The show lives and dies on the likeability of its cast and their relationships The first two series were an unexpected success.

In theory, I don’t care for actors – all that pontificating about climate change while taking private jets – but in practice, I find them great fun. One of my dearest friends, a small-screen siren, loves regaling me with tales of her shockers, like an American mini-series with a huge budget but an appalling script. ‘we were being housed in fabulous hotels, dined every night on fine food and wine so we shut up and took the coin. If you agree to do a job, even if you realise halfway through that it’s a pile, do it with good grace – learn from it and move on. But sometimes you

Last year a friend who lives in Lyon came to visit me in London. It was only her second trip to the UK and she was determined to venture deep into our indigenous food culture. ‘So, where can I get good fish and chips?’ she asked me. Now, if I was a citizen of Vienna and she was asking me where to find really good sachertorte, I suspect I wouldn’t struggle to reel off myriad cafes. If I lived in Athens and was questioned about where to get decent souvlaki, I would probably have a list as long as Hercules’s personal meat skewer. But fish and chips? In London? I

On a recent trip with my daughter to Trieste, the north Italian seaside city on the border with  Slovenia, I thought it would be nice to take her to Café Sacher for some sachertorte, which has been in culinary fashion since its creation in 1832. Trieste, once a thriving Austro-Hungarian port, is as reminiscent of Vienna as it is of Italy, and to eat this famous Austrian cake in the establishment of the same name would, I thought, be an experience my chocolate-loving daughter would remember. Sachertorte is nothing fancy compared to other Viennese cakes – merely a dark sponge with some apricot jam filling and coated in a layer

The ground staff at Kempton lost their battle against the elements this morning which was a great shame as there would have been a fine card on offer tomorrow if the freezing temperatures had subsided. So, with Kempton abandoned and with the Cheltenham Festival just two months away, I am going to turn my attention today to three ante-post bets, all the suggestions at tasty prices. James Owen is a dual-purpose trainer going places and horses such as Burdett Road have already put him on the map. Owen has a nice bunch of young hurdlers this season including East India Dock, one of the favourites for the Triumph Hurdle on