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🅁🄰🄳🄸🄾 🅃🄸🄼🄴🅂
𝕀𝕋𝕍, 𝟚𝟙 𝔻𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣, 𝟠𝕡𝕞

Join Taggie Campbell-Black as she shares her tips and tricks for a special, stress free Christmas from her home kitchen. With special guests Rupert Campbell-Black, Declan O’Hara and Lizzie Jones.

∘₊❅ ─── 𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕘𝕚𝕖'𝕤 𝕋𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 ─── ❅₊∘
𝚃𝚑𝚎  𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜  𝚂𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕

Taggie walked through the Penscombe entrance way, admiring the decorations. There was greenery everywhere, boughs of holly hanging from the ceiling, dripping in baubles. It was a little much for her taste, but the kids loved the sparkle, and the guests at the thousand events she was hosting over the season loved the glamour.

Not to mention, they looked fabulous on TV.

“Christmas is my favourite time of year,” Taggie said, shooting a smile at the camera. “It’s a time full of magic, and I have to say, festive fun is my favourite kind!”

She stepped into the dining room, full of friends and family, laughing and having a drink together. Right on queue, Rupert slid into shot next to her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders to press a kiss to her cheek. “Merry Christmas, darling.”

She shot him a smile, their domestic bliss perfect fodder for the cameras. “After all, what’s better than being surrounded by food I like, and people I love!”

Behind the camera, Taggie could see Cameron’s grimace at their saccharine sweet display, and had to suppress a laugh. The Taggie’s Table Christmas Special had become a holiday season staple for ITV, and nothing sold it like the excitement of getting a glimpse into the fairytale marriage of the society page’s favourite couple. 

Cameron called cut, and Rupert and Taggie fell away from each other. Around the room, people placed their glasses down on the table, wondering if they could get back to the nibbles Taggie had laid out for them. It was take four, and Cameron was being no more merciful than her usual self. “Please,” said Taggie, cheeks aching. “Tell me we got it.”

“We got it,” said Cameron, with not so much as a hint of a smile. 

A cheer went up, and the Venturer vultures descended on the trestle tables of food, settling themselves in to cozy corners. While Taggie and the others slaved away in the kitchen, an impromptu Venturer reunion would be taking place.

They moved through to the kitchen, and Taggie and Rupert lent against the counter as the crew rattled around, checking lighting and equipment and everything else that went into a shoot. Knowing from experience this would take a while, she slipped her shoes off, settling herself against Rupert’s chest for a well earned rest. 

“Are we having turkey this year?” Taggie asked. Rupert hummed noncommitally. “I know, it wasn’t great last year. I’d love for it to be something the kids actually ate too..”

A more positive hum. “You’re right. Cait liked lamb when she tried it, we could do that?”

“Sounds excellent, darling. But then, whatever you cook will be.”

She elbowed him lightly, and muttered a quick “shut up,” with a blush.

“Ready when you are, lovebirds!” called Cameron, bursting their little bubble. With a groan, Taggie slipped the heels back on, a necessity if she wanted to fit in close ups with her husband. 

“Ready?” asked Rupert. He pressed a kiss into her hair, then smoothed it down for her, well trained after years sharing the spotlight with each other.

“Of course,” replied Taggie. But in all honesty, she still felt a thrill of nerves before the camera got rolling, regardless of how long she’d been doing this. ‘Be fearless, and have fun’ she told herself. It was advice that had served her well so far.

“Ready, Cameron!” 

Cameron nodded, counted down from three with her fingers, and they were off to the races again. 

∘₊❅ ─── 𝔻𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕥 ─── ❅₊∘
𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚒  𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜  𝙲𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜
𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚙  𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎: 𝟹𝟶 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚜  
𝙲𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐  𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎: 𝟹𝟶𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚜-𝟷𝚑𝚛

“Now, let me tell you a little secret- always make your dessert the night before. The oven will be in high demand on Christmas Day, and I’m yet to meet a dessert that doesn’t keep well." 

“As long as she can keep us all away from it!” joked Rupert.

“Here at Penscombe,” laughed Taggie, flicking him with a tea towel, “We’re sticking to an old favourite- whose Christmas would be complete without a Christmas cake for the table?

“I normally spend a good few weeks in October getting mine ready, and let them marinate in all their rummy goodness until Christmas day. But for those of you who haven’t had time this year, here’s a quick way to run off enough for the whole family in time for tea!”

Taggie gestured to the miniature cakes she’d prepared earlier, knowing the B-roll would have some good shots to add in post. 

“So,” she said, tying her apron around her waist, “You’re wondering, how do we get that all important spicy flavour if we don’t let the cakes stew for the winter months? Well, the secret is all in this little jar.”

With practiced ease, she cracked it open, showing it to the camera before passing it to Rupert for him to perform a tasting. “Rupert, have a little taste, what’s in it?”

In rehearsals, this had been when Rupert would take a dainty teaspoon-full and give it a try, but instead, Taggie watched in barely suppressed horror as her husband gave the jar an exaggerated sniff, then dunked his little finger in like an absolute savage. Holding it up to the light, he gave it a considering look, then sucked it off with a pop. “Is that- hmm- is that mince meat?”

“Yes!” said Taggie, making brief, alarmed eye contact with Cameron.  “That’s right, darling, and it gives us such a lovely m-“

“I didn’t know you could put bolognese in Christmas cake!”

“CUT!” shouted Cameron. Taggie turned to Rupert with a glare, batting him over the shoulder. 

“Rupert!! You know full well that is not that type of mince.”  

“Well, I know that, and you know that, but maybe the audience doesn’t! What if you don’t tell them and some poor sod serves shepherd’s pie cakes on Christmas day?” 

“That’s- that’s- that’s why we publish the recipes!” said Taggie, incredulous. Rupert just shrugged, raising his eyebrows in a gesture that clearly meant you never know. 

“Let’s roll again, people! Preferably without the smart ass remarks this time!” said Cameron. 

“Well, Rupert,” tried Taggie once more. “If you grab that little jar, what’s in it?”

Rupert gave it another big sniff, and Taggie could feel Cameron’s twitch. Once again, he put some on his finger and wrapped his lips around it with a comical smack. “Is that- oh, it’s mince pie filling!”

If Venturer ever went down, thought Taggie, he could have an excellent career in panto.

∘₊❅ ─── 𝔸𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕗 ─── ❅₊∘
𝙻𝚒𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘  𝚂𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚣
𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚍  𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑
𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍  𝙶𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜  𝙱𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚜

“Since we got engaged in Italy, and it’s such a special place for us, we always like to bring a little Italian magic to our family festivities,” said Taggie as she opened the next segment. “This year, I’m treating us adults to a Limoncello Spritz, and the kids are getting some sensationally citrusy biscuits to go with it.”

There was a commotion beyond the kitchen door, childish squeals followed by the frantic voice of an adult.

“MUMMY,” yelled Ruaridh, sprinting in at full pelt. Taggie waved a hand in the air, and Cameron called cut once more. She was going to have to bake her a seriously impressive Christmas hamper to make up for the sheer chaos this shoot was turning into. 


She lifted up her baby boy, balancing him on her hip. “Are you here to help, munchkin?”

Ru nodded vigourously. This was supposed to be the kids section, she supposed. She put him down and ruffled his hair. “Go wash your hands, then.”

Lizzie came to the door with the twins holding her hands, offering a guilty smile. “Sorry, they heard you were doing the bit for the biscuits they made this morning, and wanted to join in.” 

“It’s alright Liz,” said Rupert, walking over. “Taggie folded quicker than a deck chair, Ru’s already getting washed up to help.”  

He sent his wife a fond smile, then bent down to get on Caitlin and Honey’s level. “Are you two going to show your little brother how it’s done?”

They both nodded in unison, letting go of Lizzie’s hands to be scooped up by their father, giggling as he spun around on the way into the kitchen. Taggie sent Cameron an apologetic look, but received nothing worse than an eye roll in return. Her producer was already barking out orders to rearrange the lighting while she scribbled out a new shot list. She'd never admit it, but Taggie knew Cameron had a soft spot for the Campbell-Black babies. Even if she had threatened to quit if any of them ever called her 'Grandma'.

Taggie fished out a mixing bowl from the cupboard, along with some spare ingredients, and they got some shots of Taggie helping the children mix together the dough, before rolling it out and using cookie cutters to punch little stars into the middle. Then, with a slight of hand Taggie was sure the children thought was actually magic, she switched the raw ones for the ones they’d made this morning, ready to be finished. 

Getting back into her earlier flow, Taggie smiled up at the camera from where she was crouched beside Honey.

“And even better, sugar cookies are a great opportunity to get the little ones involved- and, since they’re just an added treat, perfectly harmless if the little hands don’t do quite the job you had planned." 

Rupert joined them at the counter, hefting up Cait so that she could fish lemon curd out of the jar her mother held. Together, they filled the little holes in the biscuits, ready to be baked into stained glass.

Taggie let out a laugh of relief when the shot was done, knowing they’d need good pace now to get things back on track. So of course, Honey immediately turned around and buried her face in Taggie’s apron, covering her in sticky jam. 

“Friday!” called Taggie with a laugh. The set assistant’s head popped out from behind the lights. “Can you get me a fresh apron please! Thank you!”

“Right then, darlings, off you go!” said Rupert, nudging them away “Be good for Auntie Lizzie, or I’ll feed Rocky all of your treats!”

∘₊❅ ─── 𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕖𝕣 ─── ❅₊∘
𝙱𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚍  𝙷𝚊𝚖  𝙷𝚘𝚌𝚔  𝙿𝚘𝚝𝚜
𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚙  𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎: 𝟷𝟶 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚜  
𝙲𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐  𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎: 𝟸𝟶 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚜

Next up was the starter, and Rupert stayed by her side, ready to film this segment together. He really was her favourite guest, filming feeling much less like work when it was with him. That didn’t mean he made any less of a nuisance of himself than he normally did, however. 

“My mother always liked a good Prawn Cocktail for Christmas,” he said with his signature smirk. “But Declan’s a dear and can’t stand shell fish, so we buck tradition a little for this one, don’t we darling?”

“Well, I always think the most important thing at this time of year is to have the family around,” said Taggie, and kept the smile pasted on her face, knowing a little ribbing between the two of them was inevitable. It was half the reason she’d hesitated before agreeing to a ‘Venturer special’ this year. But franchise year was approaching, and every little helped.

“Are you slandering me on national television, Rupert?” yelled Declan from behind the camera.

“CUT!” shouted Cameron yet again, turning an furious eye to her husband. “Declan, keep your mouth closed. Taggie, Rupert, let’s go again.”

“Yes, Declan, you can’t interrupt the artistes at work.” 

“Rolling!”

“Now I know,” tried Rupert again, “That Prawn Cocktail is the traditional Christmas Day fare, but in our family, we have my spoil sport of a father in law-“

“That’s out of line and you know it!” called Declan.

“Cut!”

Taggie buried her head in her hands. So much for keeping to a tight schedule. These men ran a very successful franchise together, day in and day out. But of course, the minute they stepped into her kitchen, they were pulling on each others pigtails. At this rate, they would still be filming next Christmas. Rising with a groan, she left berating her father to Cameron, and turned an unimpressed eye to her own husband.

“Right, Rupert, shoo,” said Taggie. When he started to protest, she placed her hands on her hips and stared him down, in a move that never failed to send their children scrambling to follow an instruction. Sure enough, the words never left his lips, earning him a smug smile from his wife. “Go be useful somewhere.”

“I thought I was being useful here,” he muttered, but ducked out of shot all the same, hovering beside Cameron. Taggie addressed her father next, determined to get the show back on the road with maximum efficiency. 

“Daddy, you can help me with this one if you’ve got such strong opinions on it. Someone get some make up on him.”

Taggie checked the ingredients were laid out properly while they waited, pointing out what was what and talking Declan through what he would have to do. Finally, they were ready to start again.

“So help me,” said Cameron, pointing a warning finger at Rupert and Declan, “any more nonsense from you two, and you’ll be at the kids table on Christmas Day.”

Both Declan and Rupert turned to Taggie, expecting her to object to the harsh measure, but she just offered them a sunny smile. “This had best be the take then, hadn’t it?”

“Rolling!”

“Not everyone is a fan of the classic prawn cocktail-” said Taggie, thinking it would be for the best if she got them started this time around.

“I know I’m certainly not,” said Declan with a charming smile. 

“So this year, we’re making Baked Ham Hock Pots. Super simple to make, if not so easy to say!”

“Even a buffoon like me can manage it!” laughed Declan.  

“To get started, you want to get all your wet ingredients into the bowl and give them a good mix.” 

Her eggs were already cracked into a bowl, and she guided Declan through adding the cream and chives. “Then give it a good beating.”

Taggie would maintain to her deathbed that she had only looked away for a second. A singular second, to get the nutmeg, salt and pepper they needed to add. But that was all it took for Declan to demonstrate why she had learnt to cook at the ripe old age of eleven years old.

He was too rigorous with his mixing, attacking the eggs with very violent twists of the whisk, and sent the bowl crashing to the floor. It shattered with a crack, taking one of the kitchen tiles with it, and sending raw eggs and thick cream splattering across the surfaces. 

Taggie bit her tongue, and resisted the urge to kick them all out of her kitchen and film the rest of the special by herself.

∘₊❅ ─── 𝕄𝕒𝕚𝕟 ─── ❅₊∘
𝚃𝚞𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚢  𝙱𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚝  𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑  𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚜  𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚐
𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚙  𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎: 𝟹𝟶𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚜-𝟷𝚑𝚛  
𝙲𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐  𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎: 𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝟸 𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜

“I knew you’d want me back,” said Rupert as he waltzed back up into frame, pulling her in to press a kiss to her cheek. She pushed him away, in no mood to have to get her make up done again. 

“Only because I need someone to lift the turkey,” she said. “And I’ll get Cameron out here doing it if you so much as hint at any more antics!”

Rupert held his hands up in surrender, painting himself as the very picture of innocence. “I would never interfere with your work, angel.”

A very likely story. 

“Are we ready, Cameron?” 

“Ready!”  

The kitchen sprang to life again, the camera pointed at her and Rupert, ready to get them across the finish line. 

“Right!” said Taggie, clapping her hands together, showbiz smile out in all its megawatt glory. “It’s turkey time. Now, in our house, the trick to a successful Christmas is to make ahead as much as you can, and get as much done in the oven as you can. 

“Here’s my tip for making turkey prep a little easier, pop down to your local butcher and ask them to butterfly one for you. It saves you getting elbow deep as you’re trying to stuff it.”

Rupert snickered, and then had to fight a wince as Taggie’s heel found the tip of his shoe.

“We’ve already browned our sausage meat,” said Taggie, reaching over to the stove, “and I’m just going to add in our eggs, parmesan and breadcrumbs. Remember, this doesn’t need cooking off now, it will cook in with the turkey!”

She talked them through stuffing and basting the butterfly, only having to stop once to threaten Rupert with a skewer as he made an off colour joke.

“So, let that roast for a couple of hours, you want it to reach 75C when its done! And that’s us ready for our fabulously festive feast!”

She had Rupert lift the turkey into the oven for her,  and he did so with a wink to the camera. “She likes me to sing for my supper,” he laughed. Taggie gave his arm a grateful squeeze with her left hand, ring sparkling in the light for the world to see.

“Have we got it?” she asked Cameron, wiping sweat from her brow.

“Yes.”

“Thank God.”

𝚂𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚝
∘₊❅ ─── 𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕘𝕚𝕖'𝕤 𝕋𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 ─── ❅₊∘

Taggie circulated the room with the cocktail tray, encouraging people to help themselves. Spread across the room were all their friends and family, Patrick and his girlfriend in one corner with Lizzie and Freddie, Billy and Janey in another, entertaining the gaggle of kids that seemed to increase each year. Dame Enid sat holding court at the piano, surrounded by the rest of the Venturer board, Caitlin and her partner holding up the wall nearby. 

It was, in all fairness, a perfect Christmas composition, camera or no. She was so glad they all had the chance to come together, and she’d made sure that, unlike on most of her shoots, there was a full spread of the food they’d cooked ready to go for a sit down meal. 

“Okay, everyone!” she yelled over the crowd. “If you get sat down, we can get the closing shot, and we can all dig in!”

Taggie had known the people in the room for a terribly long time- and she could say with confidence that none of them had ever moved so quickly.

With a chuckle, she returned to Rupert as he positioned himself for a direct-to-camera shot. Cameron passed them each a flute of champagne as they took their marks, then set them off for the final take of the night. 

“I’ve been Taggie Campbell-Black-

“And I’ve been Rupert Campbell-Black-

“And you’ve been watching: Taggie’s Table!” they chorused together, clinking their drinks together in a toast to the audience. 

The pair turned and walked arm in arm towards the dining table, breathing a sigh of relief when Cameron cried Cut for the final time. 

“Thank fuck for that,” he whispered into her ear. She had to agree. Any more takes, and they might have had a drunk Venturer board to contend with. 

Turning to him fully, she buried her face in his chest, feeling the tension of the day drain out of her as Rupert ran his fingers through her hair. 

“Hey,” shouted Declan. Taggie groaned, and stubbornly refused to move. “If you two have had enough of each other, do you think we can actually eat some of this? Staring at it is pure torture!”

“Let’s go away, next year,” said Rupert, just for her to hear. “Or even better, let’s tell your father we’re all going away, and let him get on the flight on his own.”

She smiled up at him, her infuriating, brilliant man. “Sounds like a plan.”