Watching
a cooking show is like watching a porno.
Eventually I have to turn the TV off and make do with what I have.
Food
used to be fuel for the world to live. It’s now a form of entertainment. If
you’re not sure Americans are obsessed with eating, there’s a network called
FOOD.
I’m
not including Mr. Potato Head in this. He really is entertaining. But it seems
these people want to be served a Broadway musical on a plate. Don’t order Cats.
The
rest of the world doesn’t have the luxury of food boredom. The only useful cookbook I can think of is one that can be eaten.
“100 Ways to Cook A Cookbook”
would be useful. Maybe “The Joys of Not Starving”. Or
“Which Wines go with Empty Plates”
Not
even the best chef in the world has a recipe for a strawberry. Good luck with
your pineapple right-side-up cake without a pineapple. The difficult part has
already been done. Thank you nature.
The
only chef who ever understood how to feed the masses was Boyardee.
The
ingredients to most cooking shows are sun drenched kitchens, bronze tipped cooking
ware and diamond edged cutlery Jeffery Dommer would envy.
I
might be interested in watching a food show that gives practical ideas. Such
as:
“How
to Cook with No Indoor Plumbing”
“Turning
Urine into Soda”
“Creating
Dumpster Delights”
or
“10 Recipes of Bus Stop Pop Tarts”.
It’s
not enough that we have cooking shows. Now we shows that allow us to watch
someone eat. How do we judge an eating show? Fork agility, napkin dexterity,
and chewing abilities.
Is
it fun to watch a pretentious foodie dine on glazed coconut encrusted Malaysian
monkey shrimp?
Not
while I eat a leftover burrito and Bottom Ramen Noodles. (I can’t afford the
Top Ramen)
If
it were entertaining to watch someone eat, I’d have dinner in front of the
mirror.
What’s
after the Food Network? Maybe it’s time for The Digestion Network. An entire
channel dedicated to what happens after! With a new series called Plexi-Glass
Plumbing: A show that begins at the end.
