This is for you, Dad

Does good food beat good comedy?

It’s funny you say that. Since becoming a restaurateur [Hills co-owns Freak Scene, a pan-Asian restaurant in London], I’ve found an extra level of satisfaction in people having not just a laugh, but an excellent meal. I can’t really explain it. I’m relatively quiet in public, almost introverted, whereas on stage a certain character comes out. In the restaurant, it’s a different part of me, more like Rocky Balboa in his later years when he owns a restaurant, chatting to people and topping up drinks. In ten years, I’m worried it’ll be me hanging around the restaurant, telling stories about The Last Leg.

Did being a restaurateur give you an unfair advantage in the Bake Off tent?

You know, at no point did it occur to me to get some tips from Scott [Hallsworth], the chef at Freak Scene. Partly because, I mean, it was more about baking and Freak Scene is more about Asian punk, bao buns and sashimi pizzas. But in retrospect I really should have got some tips from him.

Do you bake at home?

Our eldest daughter [with his wife, soprano Ali McGregor] is 13 and can whip up an amazing lemon drizzle. The younger one is ten and needs a bit of help, so we started baking together. One day she wanted to make pizza dumplings because she liked the idea of them. They were pretty good! I got a bit cocky after that.

Were you satisfied with your performance on Bake Off?

I think I gave good comedy… Paul Hollywood came over and said, “I haven’t seen you since you hosted Fifteen to One – I was the first celebrity knocked out because I got the hardest questions.” I said, “Are you carrying a grudge?” He just smiled, winked and walked off. He totally got in my head, but I was desperate to impress “Dad” with my Australian flavours. I didn’t even want Hollywood handshakes, all I wanted was for him to take a bite of something I’d cooked and say, “Yeah, that’s not too bad.”

So your expectations were sensibly low?

Oh, absolutely. What I tried to do was bring a bit of Australian flavour to the tent, partly because I just thought it would be a novelty, partly because it’d be in my comfort zone and because I thought, if I mess it up, it might be a dish that Paul and Prue [Leith] have never tasted before so they won’t know I messed it up.

It’s all in aid of Stand Up to Cancer — how has cancer touched you personally?

My dad was about 55 when he had stomach cancer. He went through chemo, radiotherapy, and had a stem cell transplant, then got leukaemia at 69 and had a bone marrow transplant. His body just couldn’t take it. [Fellow contestant] Rhod Gilbert survived throat cancer, but the treatment was horrific. Wouldn’t it be amazing to raise more money so the treatment isn’t quite as horrible or, in my dad’s case, doesn’t end up killing you?

Now I’m in my 50s, the list of friends and family dealing with cancer is getting longer. Sean Lock [who died in 2021] was a terrible shock, then a few months ago an Australian comedian called Cal Wilson was diagnosed with a very rare form and went really quickly. You think you’re getting on top of it, then another person gets taken out.

Did your dad’s death affect your comedy?

If anything, it made me more determined to do comedy. As a comedian, I’d always thought I should’ve done a proper job, but at the very end the doctor came in, looking helpless, and said, “There’s nothing else we can do.” I thought, “Well, I can still make my dad laugh.” We’d just done a pilot for The Last Leg and one of the last things he said to me was, “Good luck in London,” so whenever I do things for Stand Up to Cancer, I always think of him. Life is short and moments of joy are few and far between. I should try to create as many as possible.

Did you ever imagine The Last Leg would outlast the London 2012 Paralympics?

No, I thought that was it. I’d signed up with an American agent and was meant to be compering at a New York club, then Channel 4 said they wanted a pilot. After 12 years and 30 series, it’s still a dream job. The news is so bonkers, it feels like we’ve snuck a comedy writer into Number Ten to help us out. As long as we’re enjoying it and people are watching, we’ll keep doing it.

What has the team got lined up for the Paris Paralympics?

The joy of Paris is that we can bring over a different comedian every day. We’re also looking at sports like frame running, which aren’t in the Paralympics but could be. Then there’s the usual Australia-UK rivalry, which will probably come down to me doing a ridiculous bet and humiliating myself at the end.

How proud are you of your part in transforming the profile of the Paralympics?

Well, it transforms us as well. Sometimes we get bogged down in the news, a bit cynical

and snarky, but covering this celebration of humanity is like pushing the refresh button. One of my favourite things from 2012 was getting an #IsItOK from a member of the US wheelchair rugby team. It didn’t occur to us that this was the first time Paralympians could watch a comedy show about what they were doing. To think we’ve advanced the Paralympic cause, even a little bit, is really humbling.

What else is coming up for you?

I’m actually playing para standing tennis, which is tennis for people with disabilities who don’t use wheelchairs. We’re making a documentary about it. I’m playing in the World Championships in Turin in June, so most of my time is spent doing The Last Leg or playing tennis.

So have you knocked your rugby league hobby on the head?

Rugby league knocked me on the head. I tore something in my hip called an IT band a year ago – it turns out you can’t fix it by turning it off and on again. I have a feeling I’m just going to play milder and milder disability sports, the older I get. I started with rugby,

I’m onto tennis, maybe golf next. Chess is the logical endpoint.