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Chloe Banks takes a good look at BBC2's Bristol restaurant reality show

Some months ago I noticed that a restaurant just down the road from my flat had suddenly and mysteriously changed its name to 'Barrington and Badger's'. The reason for this surprise name-change was given to me by a friend of mine who invited me to dine there on its opening night, explaining that it was one of six establishments being used to film the BBC reality-show 'The Restaurant'. I was unable to join them for their two-second appearances on television and their after-dinner chat with Raymond Blanc, so contented myself instead with watching the shenanigans on the beeb’s iplayer.

The Restaurant is the culinary equivalent of The Apprentice with a few crucial differences. Firstly, how the contestants perform in a task actually seems to have a bearing on who gets knocked out. Secondly, the contestants do not list “being nasty” as one of their greatest skills – that's not to say some of them weren't fairly repugnant characters, they just didn't write it on their CV. Most importantly, The Restaurant is far superior to The Apprentice because it is set in Bristol! This means that we are privy to the extra excitement of recognising all the establishing shots and smugly pointing out to those not in the know that actually two scenes shown back-to-back are nowhere near each other, and it is only the BBC’s devious editing that has placed Quaker's Friars next to the Waterfront.

The basic idea is simple: after a few preliminary tasks – including charmingly inept attempts at running chain restaurants in Cabot Circus – six couples are given their own restaurant to run, based on a concept of their choice. Each week they have additional tasks, such as selling local produce at a farmer's market or making a celebration cake, and each week one of the restaurants is closed down. The eateries were supposedly spread throughout the city, though not spread all that well as at least three were within a ten minute walk of where I live.

Some of the contestants got lucky with their locations, like Daisy and Nadine whose “Westernised Nigerian Cuisine” could not have been more suitable for Stokes Croft. Some were less lucky, like Lucy and Frances who ended up with a tiny building on the docks. This could have been the reason that they were the first to leave. I suspect it might have been more to do with the way they wandered round the centre of Bristol advertising their restaurant, The Cheeky Pig, by trying to force-feed teenagers toast covered in goats cheese and shallot marmalade. Cheese on toast might have gone down well, but shallot marmalade? Not in Bristol, love.

The owners of the particular restaurant where I just missed my big break into Hollywood were next to leave, which was a great shame because they had probably provided the most competent service of anyone. I have it on great authority that Badger, manning the front of house, was “lovely, really friendly” and that the food was “very tasty”. However, a lifetime in the army had left him feeling out of his depth and as he cracked under the pressure, dragging Barney with him, there was no choice but for them to go. They were swiftly followed by Daisy and Nadine whose downfall was hastened by their attempt to serve the Bristol rugby team potato salad, flat bread and pasta... when their coach had specified that they weren't to be given carbohydrates.

Which left us with the slightly bizarre situation where the semi-finalists consisted of Rebecca and Stephen, a lovely married couple who were clearly besotted with each other and produced reasonable food, but who collapsed if anything went wrong; James and JJ, two of the most arrogant people you could ever dread your daughter dating, who couldn't cook anything; and Nathan and Chris who could cook but appeared to hate people. And between them they provided us with some fine moments.

Who can forget the tea dance at the Victoria Rooms where Nathan and Chris resorted to ordering cakes from Nandos and James collapsed with dehydration? Or their attempt to cook with local food... picked from the side of an A-Road leading into Bristol? Maybe your most memorable moment was Stephen attempting to make a cake in the shape of an aeroplane taking-off, or alcohol expert JJ being unable to provide even the simplest information about a bottle of wine?

Perhaps the most interesting task was when the competitors were required to hold a singles night at their restaurant, resulting in the rather awkward situation of Nathan being left with a room full of heterosexual woman and gay men all hoping to meet Mr. Right. There was one success though; Stephen and Rebecca may have had only three women to entertain eleven men at their evening but they did end up match-making one couple. This didn't save them however, as Stephen's assurance that he would “rather have an in growing toenail” than do a cookery demonstration in front of 100 people proved that they were really not cut out to work under pressure.

The loss of Stephen and Rebecca meant that there was no longer any need to worry about who won the final, as I no longer cared. Would it be cocktail maker JJ and his slimy companion James, or would it be misanthropic Nathan and his over-defensive chef Chris? What a choice Raymond and his two assistants, Sarah and David, had left themselves with. I think I would rather have joined Stephen in the hospital ward nursing a toenail myself, than work with any of them, but of all the finalists it was Nathan that got my back up more than anyone.

I am sorry to say it but I have witnessed his attitude to people in more than one Londoner before – the opinion that anyone from any other city is in some way inferior. His constant little snide comments about “people round here” and condescending manner to everyone around was all the more grating because he was probably the worst front of house that has ever worked in a restaurant anywhere. He seemed unable to smile or even be civil to people, even when that was the only thing required of him. On being given ten dead rabbits and a handful of pigeons for Chris to cook, Nathan's considered opinion was that “dead pigeons will go down well, they like that sort of thing here.” That's right Nathan, in fact don't even bother to cook them; here in Bristol we just gnaw on the flesh of dead animals. At midnight. By the light of the full moon.

In the end though, no one was watching The Restaurant for the competitors, not when there was a bigger star to fall in love with. Monsieur Raymond himself was the real hero. His softly-spoken manner and that devastating French accent could have made even James and JJ's food palatable. Which of us did not shed a tear when Raymond stirred a terrified Stephen into taking the stage for his cookery demonstration with the urge to “win your demons!”? Which of us will now be able to watch The Apprentice without shaking our heads sorrowfully at Sir Alan's abrupt manner and grumpy demeanour? Lord Sugar, you would do well to take some notes from the real master of reality television.

So, in the end, after a disastrous final where they did nearly everything wrong, JJ and James were declared the victors and will be opening a restaurant with Raymond Blanc and his partners. A slightly surreal outcome but, after much intense debate, my husband and I decided that they probably were the right choice (not at all influenced by the fact that their restaurant – selling picnic food of all things – was in the place where we went on our first date). They may not be able to cook but they can at least be nice to the customers and then make them cocktails to apologise for their rubbish food and slow service. So that's alright then. Mission accomplished Raymond?

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