Take a bunch of incompetent and, let’s face it, delusional ‘chefs’, then throw in a healthy dose of arrogance and/or misogyny. Add a cheeky ready meal on the sly, a pinch of culinary talent and the odd piece of “organic, locally-sourced and sustainably-grown” produce. Oh and lashings of alcohol – that’s a given.Let this concoction simmer for approximately half an hour and bon appétit – it’s everyone else’s favourite novice cooking programme, Come Dine With Me, of course!

But, alas, even the most fleeting of viewers knows that it’s the snide asides and brazen puns of the narrator, Dave Lamb, that make the show. Food? That’s merely an afterthought.

This is probably just as well, because I – along with a few (apparently) gastronomically inept friends – have decided to embark on a similar feat, all in the name of fun. Each pair or individual will prepare a course in the college gyp – sans an oven, weighing scales, and pretty much everything else you’d need to cook a decent meal.

To my mind this could result in one of two outcomes: food poisoning or a defeated trip to the ‘Chompers’ burger van across the road. I’m intrigued as to what the others are about to prepare, and as per usual, am ravenously hungry, so let the culinary car crash commence!

The starter: Pork-wrapped prunes with overfilled devil eggs

Yep, I’d planned for, and had intended, this to be a contest for novices too. Instead, this pair went all Ramsay on us! Based on first appearance, I was impressed, but more surprised. This was not what I’d been expecting. The standard had been set, and the pair claimed it had taken them over an hour.They’d definitely gone to town – paprika and parsley. My taste buds were re-awoken with all the seasoning. (Not to make a dig at hall food or anything.) And garnish, for God’s sake!

All praise aside, they hadn’t accommodated to the herbivore in me. Points deducted. Instead of a lone prune, I was given extra parsley. It’s a good thing I like parsley, really. Although, being a veggie, I eat leaves all day anyway… But admittedly, it was delicious. They scored well for originality and organisation.The same could not be said for the main.

Scored: 8/10

The main:  Risotto al Q (con funghi, pollo e pancetta)

No, unlike what we’d been assured by this chef, making risotto from scratch (chopping onions, frying meat, the works) does not take half an hour. No trace of any presentational effort by the looks of things. But you know what they say: never judge a risotto by its cat-sick-like façade!

This self-styled Mr Blumenthal had gone all out and bought, not just any old mushrooms but organic, shitake mushrooms. Funny words get extra points in my book. But unlike Heston, this one was all hair and no flair. I might have come across a sample of Chef Number Two’s very own DNA in my meal. Presentation aside, it was admittedly delicious. Creamy, cheesy, and the perfect way to whet the palate for another imminent ‘cheesegasm’. I scored it 7 out of 10 – it beat the starter on taste and, despite the few mishaps, this chef had put a lot of effort into his meal. Aww.

Scored: 7/10

The dessert: (No-bake) Lemon and raspberry cheesecake

Time for yours truly’s crack at the culinary whip. First, let it be known that I’m game for cheese all day, any day, and this baby had it in droves. A 300g tub, in fact. I don’t understand anyone that can’t stomach cheese in a dessert. But, each to their own; I’ll take their slice. However, trying to justify the use of a copious, Nigella-esque quantity of butter with the fact that I used ‘light’ Philadelphia was probably in vain. With a little help from our gyp’s freezer (or, our slightly-below-room-temperature-shoe-box) I was able to ensure that this beast congealed.

But back to what really counts: the taste. I may not have used a vanilla pod as the recipe specified (£2.50 for a single pod made the prospect of mimicking luxury ice-cream quite unlikely) but we polished off the whole thing. My fellow diners gave me an average score of 8, but they were probably just being kind. Feel the love.

Scored: 8/10

The result

After making individual score sheets with five separate categories (A Cambridge student’s gotta be thorough!) and tallying up the scores, the victor was revealed.

And, lo and behold, it was I! But I was put back in my box when it emerged that this was only because I’d competed by myself. Thus, I now reluctantly hand over my victory to the first pair.

All in all, it’s fair to say that this is not a menu for calorie-counters. Luckily, because summer is a whole year away, I can now disregard the “no carbs before Marbs” mantra, so beloved of our chums from Essex. The temperature’s dropped in Cambridge so, by my reckoning this calls for a little extra insulation, right?

Fancy trying to recreate this at home? Now you can, with the Microwave Masterclass Cam Dine with Me special!