Knives

I really really can’t help myself.

Last night, a furious, frustrating, but ultimately fruitful editing session had to be interrupted for the the greatest TV event since the historic last episode of M*A*S*H;

Top Chef is back.

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For fear of being referred to as a disgusting sexist pig, some near-pornographic pictures that come up when you do a Google image search for Padma Lakshmi will NOT be appearing here. Even though I love her, almost as much as I love the ladies of Ace Of Cakes.

Drama, lesbians, alcohol, souffle, and that disgusting invention of the Midwest known as deep-dish pizza came out to play. It was magical.

Which brings me to my main point…why the fuck do I watch this show? Why the hell do I love cooking shows in general and will drop everything to see if Simply Ming or Iron Chef is on? I can barely cook pasta and mostly subside by putting anything and everything that isn’t meat in a soft taco shell, throwing cheese and salsa over it, nuking it, and calling it “dinner”. Once, I managed to utilize teriaki sauce on some fake-steak with pre-cooked/frozen vegetables in a skillet, but that event was a once-in-a-lifetime happening that came together with day-old white rice and may never happen again.

I think…it’s a desire to live vicariously through Tom Colicchio and just eat delicious-looking shit while wanting to gawk at Padma Lakshmi all god-damn day. Or, alternately, it’s inspiration. I sure as hell am not gonna be able to create a some of the works of art that just end up eaten I see on these shows, even incredibly simple dishes other cooking shows whip up sans drama. I’m just not, unless real miracles happen.

But I can try…I can stretch my imagination a little bit and attempt something different on even the crap I throw together to eat, and who knows, it might even work sometimes.

So far though, not that much.

Oh, and see you assholes tonight.

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About Costa

Writer. College professor.
This entry was posted in blogging, Bluestockings, books, food, random, Top Chef, tv. Bookmark the permalink.

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