Gregg Wallace: The British Miracle Meat review – this look at eating human flesh is a total curveball

Gregg Wallace: The British Miracle Meat begins in the usual way – with me reaching for the volume button, checking the running time (only half an hour – hurrah!) and wondering, yet again, why this man is shouting at me. This time it is about “THE COST OF LIVING CRISIS! NOW IT COSTS A PACKET JUST TO BRING HOME THE BACON! AND DON’T GET ME STARTED ON EGGS!”

Off we go with GREGG to a guarded processing plant in Lincolnshire belonging to a food technology firm which houses a production line and clinical facilities, that for the last eight months, have been producing meat made from human cells. Line manager Mick Ross explains that it is a relatively new process. “Under EU law we couldn’t possibly operate machines like this.” We see little shavings of flesh (donors are paid about £250 a time, which as Wallace points out is enough to cover an average fortnight’s energy bills) hanging in a nutrient-rich vat and quickly developing into huge slabs of meat (“STUNNING!”). They can yield up to 100 steaks which – according to taste tests carried out with men and women in the street by co-presenter Michelle Ackerley – are remarkably fine substitutes for the real thing and at a fraction of the price. Could this be the answer to part of the cost of living crisis?

Wallace takes three steaks from different donors to Michel Roux Jr at Le Gavroche to see if their provenance makes a difference to the quality. Is human terroir a thing? The third steak is by far the best, but that is part of a premium line, the details of which are still under wraps.

Now, at some point in this description or when viewing the programme the penny will have dropped. It took a shamefully long time for me to work out what was going on, but I am never at my best when Wallace is on screen. I flinch, I cower, I basically experience him as some form of minor assault. But for anyone even more gullible than I am, and especially if they have read their Swift, the next twist leaves no room for doubt about what is – quite unexpectedly on a weekday evening from mischievous Channel 4 and writer Matt Edmonds – actually happening.

The CEO of the company, Tamara Ennett takes him to the donor facilities, where fearful 67-year-old retired receptionist Gillian is being prepared for her extraction surgery. “Will it hurt?” asks Wallace. “It’s pain-subjective,” replies Tamara before ushering him smoothly into the boardroom to reveal the secrets of their new premium line.

Have you guessed it yet? Yes – it’s babies. Well, under-sevens anyway. Tender, unstressed meat, there for the taking. Toddler tartare canapes are on the table. Wallace – uniquely, as far as I am aware, in the annals of television history – falls silent. And then asks quietly and uncertainly if they are expecting any moral objections to be made when the product goes public. “It’s testing very positively,” says Ennett.

He is given a tour of the children’s facilities (“Like livestock on the way to the abattoir, any stress could affect the quality of their meat”) and meets Gillian’s grandson, who is about to make his contribution to the family finances, too. He is nervous, so Tamara crouches down to reassure him. “Have you heard of inflation, Jimmy? Price spikes? The cost of living crisis means that decent people like you don’t have many options. This is an amazing opportunity for you to do your bit and make your nana proud.”

No, Gregg Wallace: The British Miracle Meat is not subtle. And it gets even less so with Wallace’s outro (“No wonder the state is behind their sacrifice 100%! The Trussell Trust says a future without food banks requires a benefits system that works for all and secure incomes so people can afford essentials. So it’s no surprise eating children seems a more likely path for our country!”) though it gains something from being delivered in his trademark bluff, mansplainy, unhinged tones. He was the right choice for the part.

It is a neat idea, cleverly executed in the half hour and has the attraction and value of novelty. It could have been more pointed, more vicious, or packed more in to satiate those who are already aware of the issues it raises, but that isn’t what it is aiming to do. Rather, it is a nice little curveball thrown into the schedule to capture the attention of a slightly different demographic, perhaps, those who wouldn’t necessarily sit down to watch a documentary about the food crisis, or poverty or politics.

I’d just keep a close eye on any suggestions for solving the cost of living crisis that the Tories come up with in the next few months after broadcast, that’s all.