The first episode sees him in the Costa del Sol, trying to help an ex-pat eatery turn its trade around. It’s frightening stuff, with dog shit in the restaurant and reheated kebabs. The young proprietor is into a scary amount of debt, and yet despite his desperate situation, he takes a huge amount of convincing that his current business model is not the right one.

Episode two, and Ramsay “rocks up” (as he’s currently fond of saying) at a Lancashire pub which is a staggering £250,000 in the red. The sixtysomething owner/head chef has suffered numerous heart-attacks, while his penchant for fine dining and habit of collecting crockery on eBay are compounding the problems. And yet, again, it’s another case where our hero has to go to great lengths to convince the restaurateur that change has to happen.

In episode three, it’s a trip to Liverpool, and a former antiques dealer-turned-restaurant manager. There are some fantastic scenes here as Ramsay and the head chef nearly come to blows, and a great sequence where Gordon has to prep the restaurant for Sunday lunch himself because none of the three management staff show up.

In contrast to The F Word it did seem like Kitchen Nightmares was diminishing upon each return, but judging by the run of episodes so far, that’s stopped. A really sensational crop, which – let’s face it – are going to undeservedly get beaten into nothing up against I’m a Celebrity ….

On October 19, Gordon Ramsay held court at The Maze restaurant with a group of journos. Here’s a bit of what he had to say …

“This series of Nightmares has been harder, personally, because everyone’s trying to outsmart you – which is stupid, because they’re on their arse, and the place is struggling. But then they try to pre-empt what you’re doing. So we’ve gone in a lot more creatively in terms of how are we going to completely strip them of everything they know, and change it around so it’s more exciting for me. That means they don’t have time to be premeditated. 

“The biggest problem is where they want an on-off camera scenario. So they want to unplug their microphone and not really talk to you properly, because their next door neighbour thinks they’re great and keeps going to their restaurant. And that’s bullshit. So the minute that starts, I stop. And that’s happened on this series twice, where the contributor wishes for an off-the-camera scenario. It’s bollocks. I don’t do that. I don’t have a card from my producer saying, ‘Get into the fridge, check the milk, look at the fur and the mould on the gratin dauphinoise’. I’m like a fucking rottweiler. Let me off the lead, let me sniff them out, then we go through them one by one.”

He also spoke a little about what’s going to be episode four in the run …

“It was in Norfolk. I rocked up and the fucker kicked me out – locked me out! This was a former Michelin-starred chef. So Norfolk was harder than any of them because he’d had a lot of success. He was the local bigwig, who was a big star in a little pond. He was hard work. Very hard work. When he kicked me out, it was the first time I phoned up Channel 4 and said, ‘Fuck it’. You know what I mean? What’s the point of me going back in there if he’s not prepared to listen? There are other restaurants we could do. 

“But we were halfway through the shoot, so in terms of production value it would have cost a lot to go elsewhere. However, I wanted to make it clear to him that I’m not going to have an undercover scenario where he doesn’t want to tell me the truth. My discovery is going to be 10 times more intense unless he comes out with the truth and tells me. Don’t be so precious!”

Heavily trailed over the previous fortnight, Ramsay’s Kitchen Nightmares provided an hour of television so riveting it was difficult to watch, but impossible to switch off.

First in a four-part series, the main thrust is, as with all good formats, simple: take a failing restaurant, and send Gordon Ramsay in with a week to identify what’s going wrong, and do whatever he thinks to sort things out. This week focused on Bonapartes in Silsden, Yorkshire, owned by Sue Ray. This is a pub upstairs, with a basement restaurant offering a “fine dining” menu.

Following a fairly standard template, we start with Ramsay meeting the staff, and sizing up the problems facing the restaurant. Unfortunately, the place has such a bad reputation they have to offer a free dinner (which only 11 people accept) to get anybody in, so Ramsay can see the chef at work.

What follows is really a catalogue of ineptitude, enough to put you off eating out for the foreseeable future. The kitchen staff, comprising head chef Tim Gray, and his mate Lee, clearly cannot cope with cooking for 11 (their restaurant has capacity for 50), and at the end of the night it looks like carnage. As the reality of the situation sets in, Ramsay continually regresses to more basic steps, in order to find something – anything – to build on.

Attempts to cook Tim’s signature dish, which featured prominently in the programme trails, end with Ramsay being sick out the back, having been served rancid scallops. Tim’s excuse is that he didn’t realise. This prompts Ramsay to check out the other ingredients and leads to the discovery of a disgusting kitchen; fridges full of rotting, mouldy food, exposing the lack of training and leadership shown by Tim. Ramsay’s face, on being told that Tim has never cooked an omelette (again much trailed) is incredulous, and inevitably by this stage, we just know that he won’t be able to do it. Which he can’t – both chefs overcook them.

Desperate to establish some basics in Tim’s skills, Ramsay has to resort to baby-steps stuff; teaching Tim how to target the right market, buy stock, plan menus, taste his own food and make a profit. The finale of the week is Valentine’s night, for which they are fully booked (I can only assume because word got round that Ramsay was involved).

By the end however, all seems to have been resolved – Tim appears to have genuinely moved on, the restaurant does well on Valentine’s Night, and everybody’s happy. But instead of cutting to the credits, the programme goes into one last commercial break.

Somewhat inevitably we return within a month for a surprise visit. This is five minutes of difficult viewing, as Ramsay’s genuine enthusiasm to see how thing are going turns to near despair to find out that, within three days, everything had slid back to normal. He inspects the fridges and from what we are shown, it is hard to believe it could get in that state in just a month. Clearly under pressure, Sue decides to close the restaurant, and Ramsay suggests to Tim that he should resign. It’s a devastating tag scene to a remarkable programme.

Arguably, this format could have been cynically designed to exploit Ramsay’s foul-mouthed reputation, and a casual glance would certainly reinforce that opinion – he’s almost incapable of uttering a sentence that doesn’t contain at least several expletives. But watch, listen and think about what he is saying, and his genuine commitment to his profession in general, and the task at hand become abundantly evident.

Having studied under some of the most famous chefs in the world, Ramsay, who is only 37 years old, is a three Michelin star chef. Such is his commitment and enthusiasm for his profession and cuisine in Britain, that he’s set up his own scholarship to train young chefs. And it is this passion and concern which you can see in every pained expression, and hear in every frustrated utterance, as he desperately attempts to improve a business which many would believe to be a total lost cause.

When things are genuinely going pear-shaped, Ramsay is actually quite composed, and clearly focused on getting things going, getting organised and getting the food out. The real bollockings do not come during service – and it is this lack of self-indulgence which highlights his professionalism. Ramsay is there first as a chef and successful restaurateur, and second as a TV personality.

At this point, instinct would suggest Channel 4 have led with the “strongest” programme of the four, and this appears to have contributed to a certain backlash, with critics strongly suggesting that the programme is exploitative of its participants – which is only true in as much as all television exploits its participants. It’s a two-way relationship, and it very much depends on what you want to get out of it.

For a business that genuinely wants to learn, and gain from the opportunity to have a week of expert troubleshooting from one of its leading proponents, there may be a lot to gain. However, for those looking for some “free” publicity and TV exposure, there’s also a lot to lose.