Matt King

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.

Alan Davies - he's the curly-haired Arsenal fan who used to be a stand-up - stars in this new comedy drama about once-famous chef Roland White, who long-ago lost his pizzazz and with it his Michelin stars. Now's he's struggling to keep a country-house hotel afloat in the company of his long-suffering sous chef, Bib (Darren Boyd).

Their task isn't made easier by dozy waitress Kiki (Isy Suttie), ambitious apprentice chef Skoose (Stephen Wight) and sarcastic restaurant manager Caroline (Katherine Parkinson). There's a great moment in tonight's opening episode which involves Kiki telling Skoose what happened when she was caught short and had to go to the toilet behind a gravestone in the churchyard. "I thought I saw a ghost, but it was just wee steam." She also asks Bib for an eggless omlette, and is handed an empty plate sprinkled with parsley.

The cast trained in Jamie Oliver's Fifteen restaurant, so at least the chopping and plating-up look fairly authentic. So does the way the programme is filmed, using fast editing and handheld cameras to give a real idea of what life in a busy kitchen is actually like.

Writers Matt King and Oliver Lansley are said to have modelled the whole thing on the US hit Entourage, which isn't a bad template for a comedy drama. Looking down the cast list, it might be safer to say Peep Show is the inspiration: Suttie also plays the wonderful Dobby in the long-running Channel 4 comedy, while writer King (who also appears in Whites as wheeler-dealer Melvin) is better known as Super Hans.

How we made Whites

Oliver Lansley, describes how, with co-writer Matt King, the idea for the show came together...

Of course, for many of us, this week was not just some normal, ho-hum weeky week: as unremarkable as April 7-14, say, or, I dunno, February 19-26 inclusive. No. This week was Peep Show week. The return of the sitcom locked in a permanent, and fabulous, battle of champions with The Thick of It to be the definitive show of what we must, still, sighingly, refer to as "the Noughties". Peep and Thick are like the John McEnroe and Björn Borg of comedy - sometimes one triumphs, sometimes the other, but for miles and miles around there's no real competition. No competition at all. That one writer - Jesse Armstrong - works on both lends the very real possibility that he might be the funniest person in Britain.

I'm not in the habit of suggesting that the Government should forcibly take sperm samples from scriptwriters, and keep them in a cryogenic vault, in the event of a "comedy emergency" in which everyone funny dies, and we need to restock Britain's gag-writing ability with a concerted breeding programme. But, you know, it might be worth bearing in mind.

As series six starts, Peep Show's profile - once so "cult" that its future looked perilous - has never been higher. The inexorable rise of David Mitchell - thinking lady's beaky sex-penguin du jour - means that even the show's first trailer was subject to mass excitement on Twitter. When we last saw Jez (Robert Webb) and Mark (David Mitchell), they had just found out that either one of them might be the father of Sophie's (Olivia Colman) forthcoming baby. This is an usually "big" plot for the show - after all, even when Super Hans (Matt King) got addicted to crack ("That stuff is more-ish!"), it didn't really take up more than six or seven gags.

Within minutes of the first episode opening, more "big" stuff has happened - Mark has got the terminally feckless Jez a job at his company, JLB - but then JLB goes bust. The sexy business dick Alan Johnson (Paterson Joseph, playing one of the all-time amazing sitcom characters) comes to deliver the bad news: "I just got in from Aberdeen. JLB no longer exists. Thank you, Britain, and good night!" and then is driven away at top speed in a company car.

"That's the last Beemer out of Saigon," Mark sighs. The problem was that, as the episode went on, I noted, with mounting terror, that I wasn't really ... laughing. Yeah, there were a couple of nodding smiles, and the "Beemer" line got what would, on a Laugh Graph, be called "a snorty chuckle", but ... the usual, glorious, abandoned fug of a) borderline hysteria and b) intense emotional anguish, caused by minutely observed cases of total t***tishness, wasn't descending.

I was looking a cataclysm in the face: that Peep Show might have "gone off". We've all got to stop being funny some time. Maybe this was their time. Maybe it was all. Over. Or - maybe it was just a bad opening episode? So I rang people. I blagged. I cried. I sent a courier that cost £38. I got episode 2 sent over, and sat down to watch it in a state of pre-emptive tension rivalled only by the day before my C-section. And oh, thank God - episode 2 is one of the best episodes yet. Mark and Jez have a debate about the temperature setting on a boiler that is less like dialogue, more like an MRI scan of the idiot human brain. Then, later, Jez gets to deliver the line, "I'm a feminist - so I believe women should have any mad thing they want." It's all going to be OK. It's all still amazing. When The Thick of It comes back next month, the skies will be, once again, filled with the boom and clatter of their glorious rivalry.

Good on Channel 4 for keeping faith with Peep Show, despite viewing figures so small they can barely be seen with the naked eye. Now entering a sixth series, socially inept and emotionally stunted flatmates Mark and Jeremy (David Mitchell and Robert Webb) are trying not to think about the inescapable fact that one of them is the father of pregnant Sophie's baby. Wails Mark, "The baby is too big. You can't look at it. It's like the sun." It's up to the decrepit, drug-addled Super Hans (Matt King), who looks increasingly like a monster in a German Expressionist film, to keep the boys from one another's throats. But Mark's world turns to ashes when there's a fire drill at his office and the egregious Johnson (Paterson Joseph) makes an announcement in the car park. If you know little of Peep Show, then probably nothing short of the offer of a free cruise will persuade you to watch it. If you love it, rest assured, age has not wearied writers Sam Bain and Jesse Armstrong's perfect little blackly comic gem.

BBC2 green lights Alan Davies chef comedy

BBC2 has greenlit Whites, the kitchen comedy penned by Peep Show star Matt King and featuring Alan Davies as a lacklustre celebrity chef.