We Need More “Chefs” Who are Mute

I think this blog is becoming very specialized. As in, I mostly only complain. And in particular, I often complain about things that are food television related. But that's too bad. I like to bitch, I love food and I really like watching TV. Combine those elements with my acerbic wit and blinding charm, and the product is irresistible, no? Okay, probably not. But that's not stopping me.

So, I was watching something the other day. It was probably “America's Next Semi-Homemade Top Hell's Kitchen Iron Chef in Thiry Minutes a Day Featuring Paula Ray Lee Flay.” That is my FAVORITE show! I love how the contestants put a stick of butter in everything, always find a way to use Bisquick in inventive ways, I REALLY love all the cursing, and I can't get enough parsnip foam. Plus, I love the nailbiting competitive elements. Oh, and I thought Mark Summers would never have another job after “Double Dare” went off the air. Darned if he isn't the wittiest television host out there since Louie Anderson!!!

Anyway, as much as I love this show, something really distressed me the other day. The chefs started calling for me to use ingredients I have never heard of. “Chipoltes”, for example. Hmmm, I thought to myself. I have heard of chipotles, but this “chi-pole-tay” they speak of, it must be an exotic cousin! Where can I get it?!? Then another chef spoke of a delicious, creamy Italian cheese known as “mars-cap-ohne.” Again, I thought…well, I have often cooked with mascarpone, but this must be some expensive, hard-to-find item that I must run out and purchase to enhance my tiramisu! Finally, one chef mentioned an enticing salad she was making out of “mescaline”. That one just scared me.

Now here's the thing, I know some of the people on these food entertainment shows are there for just that, entertainment. But some of them are actual, trained chefs. Aren't they supposed to know their own craft? And I know that some people, like Paula Deen, try to pull off that George W. Bush, “golly-gosh, I'm a hillbilly and just like y'all” kind of attitude, but damn it all to hell, it's really fucking annoying when these so-called food experts can't pronounce their own ingredients correctly. The food isn't even SPELLED that way, so where are they coming up with this shit? And they are just perpetuating the moronics that led to George Bush becoming our president in the first place. Of course, those moronics also led to these “food experts” getting good ratings and high paychecks, so I don't see it changing any time soon.

Tim Gunn, May I Rouche This Garment?

I got terrible news last week. Really devastating. You all may have heard by now, but the Weinstein Co. has sold “Project Runway” to Lifetime. So now the greatest reality show on television will be nestled in between “The Golden Girls” and movie classics such as “Mother, May I Sleep with Danger?” (greatest movie title ever and the inspiration for this week's blog title). Apparently the Weinsteins are pissed at Bravo for copying PR's genius format and using it in many of its shows from “Make me a Supermodel” to “Top Chef.” Well, as Tyra Banks would say, “Kiss my fat ass!” Err, I mean, “SO WHAT?!”

Because the fact of the matter is, Bravo's shows kick ass! Who cares if they are copying “Project Runway's” format? Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, right? Furthermore, “Project Runway” and Bravo are a perfect fit, what with all the flamboyant fabrics and colors and gayery abound. Lifetime, though? What the hell?! Lifetime's current reality “hit” is “Your Mama Don't Dance” which, I must declare, I have never seen, but from the clips I have seen on “The Soup” make me cringe at its sheer existence (Joel McHale recently noted that this show is “the number one reality show for people who are legally required to introduce themselves to their neighbors.”) So what the hell would “Project Runway” do on this channel?

I'm not cool enough to like David Cook or think of a clever title for this blog.

I think I only blog about shit that pisses me off. Does that make me a complainer? I see it as a service to my husband…see, the more I get this stuff off of my chest here, the less he has to hear me bitch about it at home. But who am I fooling. I still do bitch at home. A LOT!

Anyway, for some reason, I watch American Idol. Not obsessively, like that crying girl in the audience last season. But enough to know about that crying girl in the audience. I don't know why I watch it. I don't listen to the kind of music that anyone on AI would ever record. I do like to make fun of them and get angry when they suck, so maybe that's it. Anyway, it's nowhere near the most embarrassing thing I watch (see: “Rock of Love 2”, “That's Amore”, or “Cake” for my true shame.)

So this season, what's really got my blood boiling is the adoration of the judges and audience alike for David Cook. As a fellow Missourian, he should be a hometown favorite, but I really don't give a rat's ass about supporting Missourians (see: John Ashcroft, Rush Limbaugh and Kimora Lee Simmons.) Instead, I feel like poking my eyeballs and eardrums into permanent non-functionality every time he appears on screen.

Case in point:

Can anyone explain why he got rave reviews for that garbage? Does he know what that song is about? Because the last time I checked, it has nothing to do with “sexy” gyrating and winking. Every other performance I have seen of his has been the same crap. Emo/rock hairstyle, a “clever” arrangement of a well-known song—all resulting in an ear-piercing product that made me wish Kevin Covais would be voted back on the show. But the more he does it, the more people rave about how original he is.

You know what else is original? This chick, from Bulgarian Idol. And I think she's a zillion times more entertaining and talented. What do you guys think?

Yo Quiero Upscale Cuisine

This blogging this is hard. I think I decided it's hard because I talk SO much that by the time I sit down to write about whatever it is I thought what was blog-worthy, I've already dispelled all my wittiest pearls. But I am going to try not to let that stop me. But more likely, you'll hear from me again on this thing in 5 months.

The other night we were watching “Top Chef”. This is, in my opinion, the best reality cooking show on TV. The Food Network has just become food porn catering to the Appelbees-loving crowds out there who are likely to clap their hands in glee when Paula Deen deep fries a stick of butter and then stuffs it in a pizza cheesecake hamburger; therefore, their 17,853 reality shows suck. Unless you count “The Ultimate Recipe Showdown”—that is not actually television programming. It is some sort of Al Qaeda terror device. “Hell's Kitchen” is good, of course, but it's not really about food. It's more about what it would be like to work in a place where, if you made a mistake as minor as, say, dropping a pencil, your boss would immediately humiliate you in front of everyone you care about and then chop off your testicles. Good entertainment, but not really about cuisine.

Anyway, last week on “Top Chef”, the guest judge was none other than Rick Bayless. As a foodie, I immediately know him as a Mexican cooking guru and also as the winner of “Most Effeminate Heterosexual of All Time.” His cookbooks are amazing—he really knows how to put an amazing, authentic, top-notch Mexican recipe together (which explains his many James Beard awards). However, he did lose a few cool points with me when he did his Burger King commercials. For a guy whose focus is all about fresh, local ingredients, that was a pretty big sell-out.

That being said, the Top Chef contestants could learn a lot from Bayless. So when giant, balding, tattooed Erik whose plating represents what might happen to someone after a bad Mexican meal told Bayless to “go screw himself” I was already turned off. This proclamation came after Erik was called out as one of the worst in a challenge to create an upscale taco. So, Bayless doesn't like your chicken taco? Go cry in your guacamole. But that wasn't enough for Erik. He then went on to say that Mexican food can't be upscale. WOW! What an asshole! An entire country's cuisine, incapable of anything more than low-end, street food status? But I guess he's the expert!

When he made such a sweeping statement about the food of a country I love and have had the opportunity to travel and enjoy, I was offended in a way I seldom am. But even if it had been made about a place whose food and culture I knew nothing of, I still would have been incensed. A statement like that is ignorant and based in racism, in my opinion. I certainly wasn't sad to see him eliminated at the end of the episode. I just wish someone would have called him out for his ignorance. Instead, as is often the case with these shows, contestants moronic or hateful remarks made in confessionals are glossed over. I guess I'll have to hold out hope for something at the reunion episode, when a band of four-star Mexican chefs drown him in a vat of pico de gallo.

Battlestar Galactica—Now the REALEST show on TV

First of all, wow, I have slacked on this blogging thing. I would like to say it's because my life has been so filled with interesting events that there was no time to sit and write about it, but really, I have just been sitting on the couch watching “America's Most Smartest Model” for the last month. Mandylynn TOTALLY could have eaten that piece of cake, and don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. Of course, I could have eaten the ENTIRE cake, so whatever.

Speaking of reality television (and what's more real than a bunch of “models” living together, doing challenges, being quizzed, and then systematically kicked out of their house, all the while sharing their catty, moronic thoughts with the general public?), there has been quite a backlash lately against reality shows for playing around with the facts. Of late, no show has been more criticized for playing with what's true than MTV's megahit, “The Hills”. Cast and crew have been spotted re-filming airport arrivals days after they supposedly actually occurred, just so there's footage of the number-one most hated reality boyfriend ever, Spencer, greeting his asshole girlfriend, Heidi, after a long, hard business trip that may or may not have even occurred. The star of the show, Lauren, has been caught with, without, and then with nail polish on the “same day”, suggesting that producers piece several days' clips together to craft a storyline that works better than what really happened. Lauren has lashed out at these and the zillions of other reports saying it's all real, real, real, but we aren't stupid. No one's hair looks that good all the time. And Heidi, no matter how stupid and evil she is, couldn't ACTUALLY date a lecherous hosebeast like Spencer unless there was some cold, hard cash and manipulation at work.

And it's not just “The Hills”…Discovery's “Man vs. Wild” came under attack recently because while the show claims to chronicle a super-gruff guy toughing it in the wilderness using only his survival skills to make it back safe from whatever hellish terrain and tasks they throw at him, it turns out that he was getting help along the way and staying at the Hilton here and there when things got too rough. The most recent cycle of “Big Brother” was suspected of heavy producer involvement so that the father-daughter dream team of Dick and Daniele would make it to the final 2, even though they should have been out more than once.

But the manipulation isn't all that heavy-handed. The other day I was watching “The Real World”. It was, of course, for research purposes only, so that I would have fodder for this blog. I do not, in any way shape or form, find it entertaining to watch a bunch of self-involved assholes drink themselves into a stupor…okay, well, who am I kidding? I am really not that evolved. That being said, on this episode one of the housemates was explaining his problem which involved hallucinations that have come about due to his longtime use of acid. These result in him seeing birds when they are not there. At this point, the producers felt it necessary to insert a few fancy graphics of some CGI birds. Now, this, I am sure, is not reality television. At the same time, they are trying to give you some insight into this stoner's reality, so maybe it is. Should they have done this? I don't know…it looked kind of cool. But it didn't really happen, so some people would say if they are gonna call this reality, then it was way too much editing. “Reality” probably shouldn't be edited at all.

Here's the thing: I can't think of one “reality show” that is actually real . All of them involve some kind of manufactured set up that wouldn't happen were a bunch of producers and cameramen not involved. That doesn't inherently make them bad, it just inherently makes them not real. But honestly, do we want reality? Because most people, even really fabulous and beautiful people, are boring. Whether you want to admit it to yourself or not, Paris Hilton poops and all of the people from “Laguna Beach” spend hours and hours a day watching TV, reading magazines, sleeping and talking on the phone about boring stuff. All while looking like regular people. And I don't know about you, but I'd rather watch this:

Rupert Murdoch Corrupted my Granny

The other day we were sitting around watching the news and of course one of the top stories was Britney Spears losing custody of her kids. “Thank heavens we aren't at war, I thought, and that there are no children being denied important health care!” Come to think of it, Britney's own children are probably being denied health care, but I digress. Now, don't start thinking I am all holier than thou, because as I am sure you have come to see, I love celeb gossip as much as the next guy…maybe more. However, I like my celeb gossip where it belongs. For example, tell me where Britney was flashing her cooter at www.bricksandstonesgossip.com but don't report it at www.cnn.com .

Anyway, as the news piece ended, one of the people watching with me commented that K-Fed actually probably isn't all that bad of a guy but that she has heard that he may have used drugs at some point. She also mentioned that although he had a couple of kids with that Shar What's-Her-Name, he supposedly was taking care of them. Now this conversation would have been pretty normal if it had not been taking place WITH MY 90-SOMETHING-YEAR-OLD GRANDMOTHER!

Please understand, my grandmother is not the kind of person who is “with it”. She would probably be surprised to know that you can burn CDs or that people huff paint thinner—and know that I am not providing these as examples of the coolest things a person could do, only that they are pretty commonplace pieces of information, about which she is almost definitely completely clueless. My father once had to explain to her what the word “necrophiliac” meant after my friend mixed up that word and the word “narcoleptic” in front of her, much to my friend's horror and my delight and amusement. So given that my grandmother is so adorably clueless, why the hell does she know intricate details about Britney and K-Fed's family tree and living situation? I'll tell you why—because you can't avoid hearing about it as long as you are a hearing, seeing person!

So what's my point? I guess what I am saying is, at the least, can't we try to remember what's “news” and what's “entertainment”? I think there's typically a clear separation and I believe there are plenty of outlets for both. I'm pretty sure the average person doesn't spend their days patrolling www.pinkisthenewblog.com , and so if we try to keep at least the most trivial information about Britney's life off the major news airwaves, maybe all of our IQ's will increase a little. Because if the next time I see my grandma she's completely informed about the status of the Lindsay Lohan-Michael Lohan relationship, I'm predicting apocalypse.

I should be the top chef

So a few weeks ago I ranted about Rachel Ray and her wishy-washy attitude about her recipes: “These shish kabobs are really versatile. I am using swordfish, but you could use goat cheese, or Glad Press n' Seal wrap. Whatever you have on hand!” And it's not just her. Just about every “chef” on the Food Network gives the home cook every option under the sun so their vichyssoise quickly becomes veal piccata.

But then I started to think, maybe I am being too bitchy. After all, not every home cook is as skilled as I. In fact, most chefs with multiple Michelin stars aren't as talented as I am in the kitchen and so probably need 8 zillion suggestions for substitutions. Then, last night, as I was watching “Top Chef”, I was vindicated by none other than Eric Ripert, chef and owner of what many consider to be America's top restaurant, Le Bernadin.

Ripert ripped cheftestant Brian Malarky a new one for not choosing and being firm about his own ingredients. Admittedly, there were a couple of other issues with the coffin-sealing dish, but Ripert couldn't get over the fact that Brian served the dish and asked those he was serving to choose between gorgonzola or Roquefort as a topper. He asked Brian, “Why couldn't you choose between the cheeses yourself?!” and clearly had an issue with a chef not understanding the issue of integrity of ingredients and instead asking his clients to be responsible for determining the final product.