Maggie Steed

Few people would dream of casting mild-mannered QI dunce Alan Davies in the role of a fiery gastronomic hellhound à la Gordon Ramsay or Marco Pierre White. But it is one of the many delights and revelations of this enjoyable new comedy that Davies so excellently fleshes out the role of Roland White, a fictional, once-pyrotechnic chef now fizzling out his days at a country house hotel. He's accompanied by his loyal and long-suffering sous chef, Bib (nicely played by Darren Boyd), flame-haired (and tongued) restaurant manager Caroline (Katherine Parkinson of The IT Crowd), sinister wannabe genius Skoose (Stephen Wightp) and clueless hotel owner Celia (Maggie Steed). It's co-written by Peep Show's Matt King, and much of the comedy is based on his pre-fame experiences of working in restaurant kitchens. Enhancing the ring of truth, the cast spent days training at Jamie Oliver's Fifteen restaurant in London. Despite the infernal kitchen setting, this is mostly gentle character-based comedy, but with an edge of sharpened steel that keeps the laughs coming all the time. Roland gets a lot of the best lines, though in the great British comic tradition he also manages to be the butt of most of them - as in tonight's opener, in which he records his never-to-be-commissioned memoirs. A very welcome addition to Tuesday nights.

Talk about a sitcom whose time has come. Thanks to series like Hell's Kitchen, The Restaurant, Kitchen Nightmares and MasterChef, restaurant kitchens are now as familiar to us as the inside of our own fridges.

We know they're all run by shouting egomaniacs who hate vegetarians and love the sound of their own voices, so we need no further introduction to the world of Whites. Whites (as in chefs' whites, as opposed to Marco Pierre) is written by Oliver Lansley and Matt King - best known as the sublimely surreal Super Hans from Peep Show. It's based on King's own experiences working in a Michelin-starred restaurant and he also appears briefly in this episode as a delivery man. It's just a pity that he's not in it more.

It's hilariously well-observed but, because it isn't straining for belly laughs every single second, characters also have room to breathe and just be themselves.

Alan Davies is perfectly cast as head chef Roland White, (again, no relation to Marco) who is too busy to help out during service because he's dictating his memoirs. Sample, genius quote: "If God didn't want us to eat animals he wouldn't have made them out of meat."

White's put-upon sous chef Bib (Darren Boyd), who is left to soldier on alone, is initially delighted when Roland takes on an apprentice to help out. But his happiness quickly dissolves into panic when the newcomer, Skoose, turns out to be a borderline sociopath.

Also in the mix are The IT Crowd's Katherine Parkinson as front of house manager Caroline, the excellent Maggie Steed as eccentric hotel owner Claudia, and Peep Show's Isy Suttie as terminally thick waitress Kiki.

Watching this, you're reminded of why good chefs bang on about only using topquality ingredients. This recipe brings out the best in all of them.

Joan Of Arc really loves the cows she looks after for a living, so when those b*****d English put them to death by fire she's on the warpath. And she's going to save the whole of France as well. Dawn French plays the Maid of Orleans with a Jam and Jerusalem West Country accent and there are constant references to her large girth. She's in her comfort zone, but so are we.

Written by Patrick Barlow and co-starring Anne Reid, Maggie Steed and Jim Broadbent, this play's comedy credentials are impeccable. But when events turn more serious, the sound effects conflict, trial and fire are full-on and genuinely moving. As Joan trips towards her famous fate, she loves and loses not just cows.

A brand new game for Friday nights: spot Joanna Lumley. She's absolutely unrecognisable as a bonkers bicycling pensioner in Jennifer Saunders' gentle rural comedy set in Clatterford in Devon - one of those imaginary villages where you can't step out of your cottage without tripping over a dozen or so gurning eccentrics.

But what this lacks in laughs it makes up for in star names. As well as Saunders playing a rich, horsey, friend of Madonna-type, there's Pauline McLynn from Father Ted, Sally Phillips from Smack The Pony, Maggie Steed as the leader of the Women's Guild, a bubble-permed Dawn French as the village idiot, and David Mitchell of That Mitchell And Webb Look.

The piece was actually written for Sue Johnston who plays Sal Vine, the practice nurse whose doctor husband rather thoughtlessly keels over and dies.

Perhaps because of the huge cast, and the way slapstick comedy runs alongside sadness, this first episode feels like a patchwork quilt knocked up from leftover wool.

But some scenes, such as when Sal is visited by a hopeless grief counsellor (the brilliant Rosie Cavaliero) suggest it might be worth giving it a chance to find its feet.