A Taste for Murder review: This picturesque new crime drama is in danger of losing its flavour
I've been learning Italian on one of those teach yourself a foreign language apps, but judging by crime drama A Taste for Murder (ITV, Weds, 9pm), I needn't have bothered.
That's because all the characters in this pastel-hued show speak fluent English, even though it's set in Italy – on the island of Capri, to be exact – and populated mainly by Italian actors.
That doesn't necessarily matter here though, as reality is not a pressing concern.
Our hero, DCI Joe Mottram (Warren Brown) is a Met Police detective who has taken time off with his truculent teenage daughter Angelica (Beau Gadsdon) following the death of his Italian wife Sofia in a hit-and-run accident.
Joe heads off to Capri, where Sofia's mum and dad run a restaurant, perfect for some R&R for the grieving copper.
This being a TV crime drama, the restaurant isn't some back-street trattoria, but a cliff-top haven, all white table linen and beautiful stemware, with a terrace placed just so to catch those Mediterranean sunsets.
And, again this being a TV crime drama, it isn't long before Joe is allowed to help the local police with their knotty murder cases, and by the third episode this week he's been taken on as a paid consultant.
Work visas, Brexit and the views of his bosses back at Scotland Yard seemingly don't matter a jot here, such is Joe's incredible facility at solving crimes.
Although, it's really his intuition and ability to extrapolate case-breaking theories from seemingly innocent chats with his family that hold the key to his detecting abilities.
As Lara (Cristiana Dell'Anna), the beautiful Italian copper Joe ends up working with, says: “I'm starting to think you're a jinx. A trail of dead bodies wherever you go.”
It's all another iteration on the Death in Paradise template – take fish-out-of-water cop with personality flaws to sunny, picturesque location, drop in some English-speaking guest stars and improbable set-ups and add in some misunderstandings with local traditions and you've got a light-hearted caper perfect to snooze on the sofa in front of.
Where's the difference here, then?
The difference is in the title – A Taste for Murder, you see, shoehorns in some cooking along the way, whether that's a simple way with eggs, a pistachio-studded sponge or a griddled parrot fish.
Each comes with a little homily about family, or fatherhood or grief and if Joe picks up another clue along the way, so much the better.
All very cosy, and I wait for the tie-in cookbook. Just in time for Christmas, no doubt.
But on occasion you feel that the makers want to be a bit less cosy, a bit less twee.
Drugs loom large, as does the possibility of gangsterism and protection rackets moving across the bay from Naples and Cosa Nostra.
Every so often, an F-bomb gets whispered into a conversation, while Joe's daughter is getting increasingly close to a local ne'er-do-well who's in with the local pill-dealer.
Meanwhile, it would be a surprise if the death of Joe's wife Sofia and the whereabouts of the unknown driver who ran her down don't loom large later in the series.
It's nothing we haven't seen before, and if you're willing to suspend your disbelief at the language skills of the local plod and the outlandish murder set-ups, it's an easy hour's viewing, demanding little more than a gawp at the beautiful scenery and the urge to eat big bowl of cacio e pepe while watching.
But that might prove to be its downfall – if you don't have to make an effort, solve the riddles, read a few subtitles, even, A Taste for Murder really doesn't make a compelling case for its defence.
Now I need to get back to that app. Un caffe e un cornetto, per favore.