The Urban Dictionary authoritatively informs me that "Trust me, I'm a doctor" is "a versatile phrase that can be used to reassure anyone to the point of no doubt, in any situation". That cornucopia of streetwise lingo also suggests that men employ the saying when persuading women of easy virtue to indulge in a spot of group groping. While he may be partial to exposing a little silver chest hair above a casually unbuttoned shirt, I'm pretty sure sex party connotations weren't what Michael Mosley had in mind when he named his television series Trust Me, I'm a Doctor . Mosley's show (starting tomorrow at 9.30pm) kicks off TVB Pearl's Well Being series, and its presenters will be answering important health questions through simple, scientific experiments. Mosley, a medical journalist who has been studying health and the human condition for more than 25 years, is joined by doctors and human guinea pigs who help him get to the bottom of questions such as: can you be fat and healthy? Does coffee really give you cancer? Will laying in bed for an extra hour a day help shed the pounds? And how many millions of germs are really on our hands? Trust Me, I'm a Doctor is both informative and wondrous and, as with all of Mosley's shows, it will make you think twice about your so-called health regime. Now, pass me the handwash. Having opened his first Hong Kong eatery, Bread Street Kitchen & Bar, last month, gobby restaurateur Gordon Ramsay returns to our screens this week. Thankfully, Gordon Ramsay's Ultimate Home Cooking (TVB Pearl, Wednesday at 8pm) sees the foul-mouthed chef in a relaxed and humble mood. Each episode of this practical home-cooking series follows a day in the life of the Ramsay family as they cook and eat together. The series offers a rare glimpse of the chef having fun with his children, as he concocts simple, modern versions of the dishes he loved as a child. While this domestic Ramsay is a joy to watch, you can't help anticipating the moment his mini-me son, Jack, drops something, provoking a tirade of obscenities from his father. You can't fool me, Gordon, you won't be able to keep up these niceties for a whole f***ing series. Now, I'm not wild about edge-of-the-seat horror movie-type tension, but The Secret of Crickley Hall (BBC Entertainment, Friday at 9pm) - an adaptation of author James Herbert's supernatural thriller - had my spine tingling just the right side of pant pooping. As with many a haunted-house tale, an unsuspecting couple (Suranne Jones, above, Scott & Bailey, and Tom Ellis, Gates ) and their children take up residence in said property and think nothing of exploring the dungeon-esque basement and spooky attic. Only when they begin to hear the voice of their missing son and start dreaming of the mansion's tragic past do they get a little freaked out. It may take longer to get going than my old moped but, when it does, The Secret of Crickley Hall gets the balance of character-driven plot and sheer terror just right. I imagine I'll be peering at the final two instalments of this three-part thriller through my fingers. Nice, clean, germ-free fingers.