It’s also nice to see a new generation of chefs competing as the years go by and, given the show’s impressive lifespan, it seems likely that by now we’ll begin to see even more bright young competitors who have trained under chefs who competed in the first few series – rumour has it the head chefs from Daniel Clifford, Marcus Wareing (my custard tart senses are tingling) and Jason Atherton’s restaurants, all already highly respected chefs in their own right, could be competing this year.

There's no question that each and every chef in the competition is extremely talented, but the pressures of a competition can get to anyone – especially when you factor in television crew buzzing about the kitchen zooming in to catch every drop of fear. With this in mind, there are bound to be some mistakes made in the heat of the moment which (to the viewer) seem absurdly amateur and (for the chef) result in some nervous bleeped out swearing and a tea towel being flicked dramatically over their shoulder. 'What, she forgot to set the right vacuum time on the chamber sealer?!' we cry from our armchairs, takeaway cartons and crisp packets stacking up by our feet. 'He tried to make a mackerel snow without using maltodextrin? Em-barrassing!' This is all part of the viewing process, and the show wouldn't be the same without it.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed that a royal feast is on the cards for the sheer wealth of punning opportunities, offering some respite from Wendy Lloyd's voiceover saying 'the pressure is on' and 'no room for error' ad infinitum. Shall we start taking bets now on how often something will be described as ‘fit for a queen’, a disaster referred to as ‘a royal mess’ or the inevitable O’Hare cameo dubbed ‘Princess Michael of Leeds’? (Okay, fairly long odds on that last one I admit.)

It’d probably be more out-there of us to say that we think plates will be used this series, as the trend for ‘alternative’ ways of presenting food continues on and off our screens. To be fair to the competing chefs, though, there’s a big difference between creating a conceptual piece around a theme and serving some chips in a bucket and spade. Great British Menu brings us the former, and over the past few years we’ve seen pint-sized picnic benches, mess tins, canvases and however it is you’d want to describe the smoky, moss-strewn landscape that was Colin McGurran’s Quail in the woods, all of which add atmosphere and context to the dishes they’ve created. What can we expect from the competitors this year if they're given a regal theme to play with? Cheese soufflé served on a throne? Mackerel pâté balanced on a live corgi? A Duke of Edinburgh carved out of venison? I simply cannot wait.

On the subject of creative presentation, it seems fated that at least two chefs will land on the same interpretation or concept for their dishes (fingers crossed for a venison Prince Philip double up, then). What will be this year's version of the WI-themed savoury sponge cakes and afternoon tea starters served up at every opportunity? Time will tell.

Ahh, another Great British Menu tradition which the show would feel incomplete without – some shaky-voiced showboating in the kitchen. As a visibly sweating chef plates up against the clock, firefighting unexpected disasters and, occasionally, actual fires, his peers hover nearby. ‘Nervous, mate?’ one will helpfully call over. ‘No, mate,’ the sweating chef will reply. ‘Not nervous.’ These exchanges are particularly enjoyable when a chef has completely reinvented a dish based on the initial scathing feedback and are sending a completely untested recipe off into the judging chamber. Nervous? Now why should they feel nervous…

What do you think this year's series of Great British Menu holds? Which chefs would you like to see returning, and what have been some of your favourite kitchen moments over the last ten years?