Acknowledging that TV isn't really my thing, nor are reality shows - unless you're going to remodel a house or cook something interesting. My objection comes from the use of the word 'reality'. In no way do I believe reality shows reflect any kind of reality at all. They're carefully choreographed and scripted to give the appearance of some kind of Jerry Springer-esque slant on reality. Not to mention that most of them feel mean-hearted to me and my life's to short for that nonsense. Got no time for mean. Snark? Hell yes. Mean? Nopitynope.
But. IF I were to be on a reality show, it would have to be one of those foodie shows. I'd get my ass tossed out the door in short order because anyone yelling at me while I'm in the kitchen with access to really big knives takes their life in their own hands. But yeah. It would be food. I like to cook. More to the point, I like to experiment while I'm cooking. I like making up recipes. I like looking for the most complicated dishes and recipes I can find just so I can try them out. It was in the process of experimenting that a family tradition called Christmas Brunch was born.
Each year, I search for new, never before attempted recipes for a multi-course meal. No one is allowed to know the menu. I'm looking for fancy here and each time, I'm actively trying to close the gap between good food and really excellent food. That goes better some years more than others. My downfall on any cooking reality show, though, would be the fact that I'm not fast enough. Christmas Brunch is generally a 72 hour cycle of prep and cooking for the actual event. There isn't a reality show out there in the world that could withstand filming me while I read the recipe for the bajillionieth time. You know. Just to be sure.
Did you know that one of the cooking magazines in the US does a yearly rating of all of the cooking chocolates on the market? They do it yearly, just prior to the holidays, because the crop changes that often and the brand that was on top last year may not be the best tasting brand this year. That chocolate report matters when you're making chocolate raspberry molten lava cake. Cooking is chemistry and I've learned the difference between actually building layers of flavor in a soup and just tossing all the ingredients in a pot, turning it on and letting it simmer for hours. I sound all snooty about this stuff, don't I? I suppose I am. My grandmother (for whom I am named) taught me to cook. Then my mother. These ladies are some really tough acts to follow. To tread in their footsteps, I have to seriously up my game.
Just don't put me on one of those shows where some judge or famous chef comes into my kitchen to enumerate my cooking sins. One of us will die a messy death.
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