Maybe it’s my obsession with food, but I’ve found myself anxiously anticipating each new episode of The American Baking Competition.
The contestants are simple folk with a love for baking. They’re likeable and there’s little fake drama for the camera.
And the food sounds downright perfect for expanding waistlines everywhere.
Master Chef is another fan favourite. Last season’s winner was a young blind home cook whose story was almost as enticing as the meals she cooked.
But not all is perfect puff-pastries and filet mignon. Every week, the expert judges on these shows introduce culinary delights we can neither spell nor replicate at home with ingredients you likely won’t find in your cupboard.
And every week, these bakers and cooks manage to produce a few gastronomical failures.
Uncooked dough, raw meats, missing key ingredients and even a few burnt offerings – and no contestant is immune to these catastrophic inedibles.
It’s not that I enjoy watching these failures. I really don’t. My vicarious thrill comes from seeing those beautifully plated sumptuous creations and decadent desserts that I’ve never heard of and will likely never taste.
But you cannot ignore the sheer volume of culinary crises coming out of those game-show kitchens. It’s no wonder so many really bad kitchen gurus audition for these shows. Even the ones who do make it don’t seem to know what they’re doing most of the time.
Fortunately, the eliminated contestants walk away touting how much they have learned and what better technicians they are now, than before the show. I’m not sure how that’s possible since this individual is going home for not knowing how to make something that tasted good.
Plus, these are not cooking classes. It’s sink or swim time for the contestants. And just how enlightening is it to have a judge spit your food out? What’s the “take home” from “I expected more from you?”
Of course, there is a take home. And this is where it gets … odd.
Definition of irony: After weeks of creating so-so samples and the occasional dietary disaster, the winner gets to write a cookbook for you and I to buy.
And we do. At least, that’s what the book sales are saying. Are we trying to capture some of that TV kitchen magic?
Or maybe it’s something more simple: if these chefs and bakers (who screwed up something as simple as cooking an egg or remembering to add the sugar) put together these recipes, anyone can make them successfully.
Of course, we may all just be really hungry after the show is over. But personally, I don’t bother with the cookbook. That’s what restaurants are for.
