Au Rotten

When you tune into this show you can be certain of one thing – you’ll see hard-hitting competitors who don’t mince their words. And the highlight will come when one contestant says “Oh, sorry, I was just speed-dicing carrots. I didn’t mean to slip and stab you in the eyeball.” At which point the wounded contestant will reach across and batter the other one senseless.

Assuming you’re still reading this (a big if), and given the ridiculous number of puns I’ve used, you can probably tell that I’m not a big fan of competitive cooking shows. I just don’t get it. When and why did chefs become celebrities and cooking become competitive? How did peeling garlic become dramatic and exciting?

I see this show quickly ending up on the chopping block (last pun, promise).

Ya know what I’d like to see? A show called Top Plumber. Because that has relevance. I can eat mediocre food or even skip a meal without harm. But when I plug up my toilet, I want to know who’s the best commode-snaker out there.

I think my disdain for glamour-cooking came from my parents. Neither of them liked to cook (but Mom wisely kept us away from processed foods and soft-drinks, which seems more important). But I specifically blame my dad. One time he was at a party where the host was showing off his recently remodeled kitchen. The guy pointed out the granite counters, the copper hood above a gleaming six-burner grill, a high-end toaster that could handle twelve pieces of bread for the family of two. And then he nonchalantly mentioned the price: $80,000 (which in the ‘80s was a boatload).

Dad nodded his head and then said “So, does the food taste any better?”

The guy just stared.

Exactly. I’m gonna skip Top Chef Duels and keep looking for a plumber who’s man (or woman) enough to enter my bathroom.