Reviewed: The Food Programme on Radio 4

Turn on, tuna in.

The Food Programme
Radio 4

An episode of The Food Programme (21 April, 3.30pm) considered the eating habits of lorry drivers. “Truckers are fussy,” claimed an interviewee at dawn on a stretch of the A3 referred to as “suicide alley” because of the lack of good places to stop and eat. “They want vegetarian, they want low-calorie, they want carrots.”

At a one-time kebab stand, now selling tomatoes from its own poly tunnel, someone ordered a tuna roll with “lots of cucumber” while another kept fruit in a pristine fridge in his cabin, destroying the cliché that truckers go around in dented white bread lorries feasting on Yorkies.

But while the show tried to be about what drivers eat, it kept pausing and ruminating on the lack of safe truck stops specifically in the UK and the dangers of a night spent pulled up in a lay-by – new draconian timesheets force drivers to sleep wherever they can park.

One man spoke about waking to find a hole cut in the side of his lorry and thieves quietly removing 50 cases of milkshakes. Newer vehicles now have microwaves, fridges and hobs, which mean drivers are expected to cook for themselves and rarely leave their cabs. The word “lonely” was uttered just once, but it was all the while heavily implied.

Surely a series about what lorry drivers listen to on the radio is a must? And particularly about the infamous CB channel 19 – the truckers’ channel. Recently Ofcom announced that AM on CB radio will be made legal by the end of this year, allowing foreign drivers to join the conversations: radio gold. CB is a life-saver, especially if, like me, you are eager to talk and like your personal information shouted.

Ah, I can just hear it now. “Alors, you ordered quoi?” “Tuna with lots of cucumber.” “Quoi?” “Tuna. With cucumber. On the A3. Delicious.”

Tuna. Photograph: Getty Images

Antonia Quirke is an author and journalist. She is a presenter on The Film Programme and Pick of the Week (Radio 4) and Film 2015 and The One Show (BBC 1). She writes a column on radio for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 29 April 2013 issue of the New Statesman, What makes us human?

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Hillary and the Viking: dramatising life with the Clintons

August radio should be like a corkboard, with a few gems pinned here and there. Heck, Don’t Vote for Him is one.

Now is the season of repeats and stand-in presenters. Nobody minds. August radio ought to be like a corkboard – things seemingly long pinned and faded (an Angela Lansbury doc on Radio 2; an adaptation of Charlotte Brontë’s The Professor on Radio 4 Extra) and then the occasional bright fragment. Like Martha Argerich playing Liszt’s Piano Concerto No 1 at the Albert Hall (Prom 43, 17 August).

But on Radio 4, two new things really stand out. An edition of In the Criminologist’s Chair (16 August, 4pm) in which the former bank robber (and diagnosed psychopath) Noel “Razor” Smith recalls, among other memorable moments, sitting inside a getaway car watching one of his fellows “kissing his bullets” before loading. And three new dramas imagining key episodes in the Clintons’ personal and political lives.

In the first (Heck, Don’t Vote for Him, 6 August, 2.30pm), Hillary battles with all the “long-rumoured allegations of marital infidelity” during the 1992 Democratic primaries. Fenella Woolgar’s (brilliant, unburlesqued) Hillary sounds like a woman very often wearing a fantastically unhappy grin, watching her own political ambitions slip through her fingers. “I deserve something,” she appeals to her husband, insisting on the position of attorney general should he make it to the top – but “the Viking” (his nickname at college, due to his great head of hair) is off, gladhanding the room. You can hear Woolgar’s silent flinch, and picture Hillary’s face as it has been these past, disquieting months, very clearly.

I once saw Bill Clinton speak at a community college in New Jersey during the 2008 Obama campaign. Although disposed not to like him, I found his wattage, without question, staggering. Sweeping through the doors of the canteen, he amusedly removed the microphone from the hands of the MC (a local baseball star), switched it off, and projected for 25 fluent minutes (no notes). Before leaving he turned and considered the smallest member of the audience – a cross-legged child clutching a picture book of presidents. In one gesture, Clinton flipped it out of the boy’s hands, signed the cover – a picture of Lincoln – and was gone.

Antonia Quirke is an author and journalist. She is a presenter on The Film Programme and Pick of the Week (Radio 4) and Film 2015 and The One Show (BBC 1). She writes a column on radio for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 28 July 2016 issue of the New Statesman, Summer Double Issue