You
know what?
If
I was going to enter a competition like Masterchef,
(kill me if I ever suggest the idea), I would ensure one thing: I was packing a
fully loaded arsenal of knowledge.
In
my view, you can’t go into a competition like this with limited knowledge. You’re supposed to be a Masterchef, after all, and your knowledge should be broad, if not
thorough.
So,
here are the top five things that I would ensure before I entered Masterchef:
One: Learn to fillet a fish.
Two: Get a grasp of as many different
cuisines as I possibly could.
Three: Be able to make pasta and bread.
Four: Be able to make sauces and
dressings.
Five: Learn to fucken bake.
It’s
funny how people write off baking. Just
because you can spew up some magnificently pretty, Asian inspired masterpiece
with pretty purple flowers on it and perfectly balanced flavours, doesn’t mean
you can fucken cook.
What
kind of cook can’t bake?
Baking
is like a foundation of all
cooking. Understanding balances of
flavours is one thing, but understanding the chemistry of a fucken cake is
another.
People
forget that baking is not just about pumping out beautifully decorated comfort
food that you throw in the kids lunch box or take to an afternoon tea. It’s about really understanding the way that
ingredients work with one another in an oven.
It’s
not like you’re cooking on the stove top, and can shift gears part way through
the process. Once that bun’s in the
oven, there’s no turning back.
I
am absolutely astonished at how many competitors on Masterchef are not competent bakers.
When
they’re given a challenge that requires baking, like last nights ‘Afternoon
Tea’ challenge, the majority of them outwardly groan.
This
really pisses me off.
Harden
the fuck up. You’re supposed to be the
top 24 amateur cooks in the country; you should not only be able to bake, but
fucken love it. Don’t complain when
you’re given a challenge; that’s the whole concept of the show, you lunatics.
Of
course, we have our stars that love to shine, and there are a couple of clear
front runners in the baking department.
My
buddy Filippo, who’s intensity still freaks me out, and Julia, who’s arrogance
makes me want to throw the remote at the telly.
The only thing that stops me is that it’s a $1500 telly that’s not worth
sacrificing for her.
So, when they’re told to create an afternoon tea
for like 100 people, I’m astonished at what they produce. Sure, they have to forage around for their ingredients;
that’s not the problem.
The
problem is that they looked pretty ordinary.
I would expect that cooks of their standards would produce things that
looked perfect. Tarts and éclairs that
were uniform. Jam filled biscuits that
were not the size of saucers with jam running everywhere. How fucken amateur. And little mini muffiny things that didn’t
look like something that a five year old had produced (apologies to all five
year olds that can actually cook).
The
only thing that looked decent were the melting moments, and I swear; if I heard
anyone bang on any more about Julia handing
over her precious recipe to Mario with strict instructions to not destroy it, I
would again throw the remote at the telly.
For
fucks sake: it’s a melting moment. Get over
yourselves *rolls eyes*
So
both teams think that they’re going to win and one get’s absolutely annihilated.
Gee, what a surprise.
Again,
I’m sitting on the couch feeling insulted because these ‘best amateur cooks in Australia
Maybe
the name of the show should be Masterbake,
because subjecting these numpties to a baking competition would sort the men
from the boys.
Watching
them freak out because they can’t continually spew out Mexican, Asian, Indian
or weird shit would be entertaining; possibly more entertaining than the
snore-fest we’re getting now.
However,
apparently Jamie Oliver and Rick Stein are coming in soon, so at least we’ll finally
get to see some people that can really fucken cook (and bake!).
Peace
out.
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