You have three days to scoff a box set.
Greg Bruce has matched food with the perfect TV show so you needn't get up from the couch.
Les Revenants/The Returned
An unlikely story about people who have died and returned to live among their grieving families, this French drama is one of the most prodigiously bingeable television series of recent years.
A fairly dark and chilling tale, its opening scene is a killer and the entire opening episode has at least as many hooks as your entire collection of Now That's What I Call Music CDs.
Make sure you're watching the brilliant original French series, not the inferior American remake from Lost's Carlton Cuse.
If you start watching it tonight, you will easily be finished its eight episodes by breakfast tomorrow.
Food match: French onion soup: Earthily French rather than pretentiously French, but with a depth that makes it vastly more enjoyable than the sheer pleasure of viewing it seems to suggest.
After the creepiness of The Returned, or maybe alongside it, or interspersed throughout it, you will almost certainly be seeking laughter. Dave Chappelle, one of the world's biggest comedians in the early 2000s, disappeared from public view during production for the third series of his brilliant self-titled comedy show, which featured sketches, some stand-up comedy, and other weird stuff.
He walked out on the show in a blaze of controversy, describing some of his own material as "socially irresponsible", and saying that he was feeling "like some kind of prostitute".
There's been hardly a peep from him since then.
Now Netflix have released two new stand-up comedy specials he performed in 2015 and 2016, and are due to release a third, which he is recording specifically for Netflix, at some undisclosed point in the future.
At his best, he's one of the funniest men on the planet, but he's been straight back into the controversy, slammed for making jokes about gay and trans people, described as being in a time warp.
Food match: Hot potatoes. (Just hot chips, really, but that doesn't work as a pun)
Seasons 1 and 2 available on
Season 2 available on
Easter, like Christmas, is a holiday that invites us into the past.
Through its autumnal long weekend wormhole, it takes us back through all the years of glory and struggle, right to the seemingly endless childhoods we spent in front of the box while outside it rained for four days straight.
You could do worse, this Easter, than honouring that nostalgic impulse by harking back to the late 1970s via arguably the greatest sitcom of all time.
The steadily accelerating farcical spiral of each episode, the dynamic loathing and contempt at the centre of all Basil Fawlty's relationships, his self-destructive impulse, the seemingly endless shots of the hotel's astonishing retro reception area: these are all good reasons to go hell-for-leather right through the two meagre seasons of this comedic nugget this weekend.
Food match: The prawn cocktail, that stalwart of late 1970s dinner parties, at which impressions of Basil and Manuel would no doubt have run rife if anything ever went wrong.
This love letter to the buddy-based, Goonies-influenced scary television and movies of the 1980s blew up last year when it was first aired on Netflix.
It's appeal is evident from the first episode, which features the following key ingredients: the disappearance of a young boy in mysterious circumstances, some kind of supernatural force or forces, and a nefarious, shadowy corporation. From there, a bunch of brilliant child actors, some troubled adults, Winona Ryder, and some increasingly weird events take you ever closer to something called "The Upside Down".
The whole thing is so comically, compellingly watchable that it's like the decision to watch has been entirely taken out of your hands.
Food match: This is TV you watch wide-eyed, and wide-mouthed. Fill that mouth with popcorn, preferably scary popcorn.
In a weekend where you've already spent a lot of time lying around eating and watching TV, the next obvious step is lying around eating and watching TV about eating.
The latest series of Chef's Table launched two months ago on Netflix and is as small, thoughtful and beautiful as each of the previous series. It features just six episodes, in which our exposure to world class chefs, their kitchens and their lives is so intense and extensive there is no real subsequent need to eat at their restaurants.
This is excellent news because there's no chance of getting a table at any of them anyway.
Food match: The diversity of food on display and the absolute embarrassment you will feel trying to produce something befitting that which you see on your screens is such that there is no good match. Just cook a roast. Can't go wrong.