A seemingly harmless food vote on Saturday Kitchen ignited a spectacular on-air eruption, leaving viewers stunned and set designers scrambling. Comedian James Acaster, known for his quick wit, unleashed a surprising fury after losing a culinary showdown with fellow comedian Ed Gamble.
The contest wasn’t about food heaven or hell, but a direct comparison of their chosen dishes: Gamble’s tapas versus Acaster’s Panatone Tirimasu. When the results revealed a 46% victory for the tapas, Acaster’s reaction was anything but graceful.
A primal scream ripped through the studio as Acaster launched himself from his chair. He immediately targeted a decorative wreath, sending it flying, then turned his attention to a nearby polar bear, delivering a swift punch. But the chaos didn’t stop there.
The studio’s Christmas tree became the final victim of Acaster’s frustration, swaying wildly as he attacked it. Host Matt Tebbutt and Gamble dissolved into laughter, while the audience watched in a mixture of amusement and disbelief.
Social media exploded with reactions, quickly labeling the moment a contender for “TV moment of the year.” Viewers shared clips and memes, captivated by the unexpected outburst. One user declared Acaster would be “famous forever.”
However, not everyone found the spectacle humorous. Some viewers expressed discomfort, labeling Acaster’s behavior “atrocious” and calling for him to be banned from the show. The incident sparked a debate about the line between comedic performance and unacceptable conduct.
This wasn’t an isolated incident. Acaster’s history includes a memorable meltdown on The Great Celebrity Bake Off in 2019. Attempting cherry bakewell flapjacks, he produced a disastrous, gooey mess and famously declared, “Started making it, had a breakdown, bon appetit.”
While the Bake Off breakdown was initially perceived as performance art, Acaster later revealed a hidden factor: severe jetlag. He had been suffering for 36 hours during filming, contributing to his on-screen struggles.
He’s openly admitted to being easily overwhelmed by high-pressure situations, stating he’d likely quit a show like Strictly Come Dancing before it even aired. The intensity, he explained, would simply be too much to handle.
The Saturday Kitchen incident, however, felt different – a raw, immediate reaction to a playful competition gone awry. It served as a potent reminder of the unpredictable nature of live television and the surprising depths of a comedian’s competitive spirit.
