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The View from My Kitchen

Benvenuti! I hope you enjoy il panorama dalla mia cucina Italiana -- "the view from my Italian kitchen,"-- where I indulge my passion for Italian food and cooking. From here, I share some thoughts and ideas on food, as well as recipes and restaurant reviews, notes on travel, a few garnishes from a lifetime in the entertainment industry, and an occasional rant on life in general..

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Showing posts with label Food Network. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Food Network. Show all posts

Monday, October 20, 2025

Food Network Cans “The Kitchen.” But Wait: Does Food Network Really Still Exist?

Food Network Descended Into Obscurity Years Ago

A headline caught my eye this morning: “The Kitchen” Canceled At Food Network After More Than 10 Years.

I think I've watched “The Kitchen” maybe once. It's got a decent panel of hosts. I've especially always liked Geoffrey Zakarian. Jeff Mauro can be a bit tedious and I can take or leave Sunny Anderson and Katie Lee (when did she add “Biegel?”) But the reason I am not mourning the loss of the show is the same reason that I never watched it in the first place. It's on Food Network and for the most part Food Network no longer exists. It descended into obscurity years ago.

Somebody (user-gbidhgb5a8, to be specific) commenting on the impending (December 13) demise of “The Kitchen”, went to great pains to do some pertinent research. He discovered that in a given week – the week of October 20 through 26 – the once vital, exciting, innovative and relevant channel was devoting a scant nine percent of its programming time to actual cooking shows of the type it once pioneered and was noted for.

Back in the day, the day being almost any day in the early 2000s, I sat and absolutely absorbed the likes of Emeril Lagasse, Mario Batali, Giada De Laurentiis, Bobby Flay, Michael Chiarello, Ina Garten, the late Anne Burrell and a host of other people who could actually cook and who could show you how to cook like they did. Alton Brown and his often offbeat “Good Eats” was must-see TV. About the only competition-style show aired by the network in those days was a takeoff on the classic Japanese cooking show “Iron Chef” called “Iron Chef America.”

Back then, by the time you watched a week's worth of high-quality, information-laden programming on Food Network, you could almost credit yourself with week's worth of culinary school education.

But now? As user-gbidhgb5a8 notes, out of a total of 168 programming hours, the so-called “Food Network” offers 144 hours of absolute and nearly unwatchable dreck. I'm sure Guy Fieri is a nice guy, but you can only watch “Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives” so many times before your eyes begin to bleed and your brain turns to mush. And Chopped, Guy's Grocery Games, Beat Bobby Flay, Halloween Wars, Wizards of Baking, Worst Cooks in America, Alex vs. America, Bobby's Triple Threat, Wildcard Kitchen, Last Chef Standing and others on and on ad nauseam to the tune of 118 mind boggling hours is just insane. And don't forget the nine hours of time featuring early morning and/or overnight paid programming that I would be astounded to find anybody actually watching. That's five percent, by the way, compared to the nine percent they give to cooking shows.

“The Kitchen”, which premiered in 2014, just as the onrushing wave of mindless game shows was taking hold, was the last bastion of the old-style “dump and stir” shows. True, its panel of hosts spent a good deal of time talking about food and cooking, but they also presented recipes and techniques that you could take into your own kitchen. Not quite as hard core as some of the earlier cooking shows, but still – technically, at least – a cooking show in its own right.

And now it's gone. Unnamed sources say that “The Kitchen” has been canceled as a result of Food Network “evaluating resources and its priorities” ahead of the new year. Yeah. Right.

I don't know what they'll replace it with. The creativity well at Food Network has long since gone dry, leaving only a murky wet bottom from which to scrape new lows in quality programming. Maybe something featuring a knock down, drag out fight between the Chick-fil-A cows and a bunch of chickens. That would be compelling viewing by current standards. (And if something like that shows up on the air in the future, let this serve as my notice that I want creative credit for the idea, dammit.)

So addio Geoffrey et.al. I'm sure the fans who followed your show weekly for ten years will deeply miss you. And even though I never really watched you because your show aired after I had relegated your network to the dustbin of relevancy, I'll miss you, too. Or at least I'll miss what you represented: a clear note of a real cooking show amid the blaring, cacophonous brass of dull, boring, repetitive, colorless, insipid, lackluster and uninspiring effluvium currently being foisted off on a diminishing viewership by a once respected source for decent culinary programming.

Tuesday, November 26, 2019

Review: Giada, The Cromwell, Las Vegas, Nevada


A True Gem Among Rhinestones

Okay, anybody who knows me knows that I'm a particular fan of Giada De Laurentiis. I became a fan during her “Everyday Italian” days on Food Network, back when the network was actually worth watching. In addition to being a talented chef, I've always found her to be a nice person. I've actually met Giada, spoken with her, spent time with her and have frequently defended her against shallow detractors who criticize her for her appearance. Is there a more absurd reason to “hate” a person?

Anyway, I was excited when Giada made the announcement in 2014 that she was opening a restaurant in Las Vegas, joining the ranks of many other “celebrity” chefs with eponymous eateries there. And I was even more excited when I finally got the opportunity to dine at her signature place.

I don't much like Las Vegas in general. It's just not my scene. In the first place, with apologies to Elvis, the “bright light city” doesn't so much “set my soul on fire” as it just burns up my wallet. I'm not fond, for example, of shelling out ten dollars for a Coke and a candy bar. I don't gamble, I don't like crowds, I don't like noise, I don't like drunks, and I especially don't like crowds of noisy, gambling drunks. And I object to being accosted by grubby pornslappers who pop their smutty little cards at me every ten feet as I walk along The Strip. After all, why should I patronize them when I can, as the numerous rolling billboard trucks proclaim, have girls delivered “direct to your room” just like a pizza? Thank you. No.

I do, however, appreciate the vibrant Vegas food scene. Just about every “famous” chef I know either personally or through various media has a place in “The Entertainment Capital of the World.” Tom Colicchio, Gordon Ramsay, Emeril Lagasse, Masahara Morimoto, Buddy Valastro, Joel Robuchon, Guy Fieri, Wolfgang Puck, Jose Andres, Robert Irvine......the list is extensive to say the least. But it was on Giada's place at The Cromwell that I was focused this trip.

We had a 9 p.m. reservation, but between being seriously jet lagged and frankly tired of all the throngs crowding The Strip, we showed up early with the intention of just sitting quietly at the bar until nine if necessary. Fortunately, it wasn't: thanks to a very friendly and accommodating staff, we were seated within about thirty minutes. But our relatively brief sojourn at the bar was quite comfortable and pleasant. We were attended to promptly and settled in to enjoy a nice Pinot Noir (hers) and a cool glass of Peroni (mine). When we were seated, we were quite well seated, thank you, at one of the coveted window tables overlooking The Strip below and the adjacent fountains of the Bellagio. The restaurant's huge retractable windows were open on a pleasant autumn evening, enabling us to take in all the dazzling sights and cacophonous sounds from a nice safe perch on the hotel's second floor.

The ambiance and décor are very much reflective of Giada, including works by her artist friend, Darren Quinn. Giada fans and viewers will recognize his “Amore” from her TV show set. There are also some wonderful portraits of her, her grandfather, Dino, and her beautiful grandmother, Silvana Mangano displayed near the bar. It's an elegant and sophisticated vibe that is at the same time quite understated and soothing in the midst of all the surrounding glitz and faux glamour.

I don't know where Giada (the restaurant) found Fred, but I wish he could be cloned or at the very least loaned out to train every server at every eating place in the country. Friendly, personable, efficient, and knowledgeable, Fred was a joy. He was perfectly professional without being the least bit pretentious or stuffy. He never hovered, but he was never far away. His familiarity with every dish was impressive, although I do wish he'd learn to pronounce “mascarpone.” The flat, American-accented “mahs-car-POHN” was a bit grating, but that's just the annoying purist in me. Fred's recommendations were spot on and he seemed genuinely pleased when we were genuinely pleased by them. Obviously somebody who enjoys his craft and is not just collecting a paycheck.

Whoever was running the kitchen the night we were there (I know it wasn't Giada) also obviously enjoys their craft and is extremely good at it. The food was absolutely delicious. Giada features a unique fusion of Giada De Lauretiis' personal “authentic Italian meets modern California” style. By and large, it's lighter fare that doesn't necessarily sacrifice any of the traditional Italian taste.

My wife was especially amazed by her ravioli with Brussels sprouts and brown butter. She has never met a Brussels sprout she enjoyed – until now. Her fulsome praise of the cook on the vegetable and her equally enthusiastic enjoyment of the delicately unctuous brown butter were the talk of the evening. My bucatini pasta dish was also enjoyable, with a sweetly tangy pomodoro sauce and perfectly cooked pasta. Well, the al dente texture was perfect. The pasta itself could have benefited from just a teensie bit more salt. I know a lot of places have to cook to the lowest common denominator of misinformed patrons who are convinced that the slightest amount of salt in their food will lead them straight to hardened arteries and an early grave, but I was somewhat disappointed that the cooks at Giada would fall into that. Giada knows, as every Italian does, that salt – in what some consider egregious amounts – is the only way to flavor pasta. There was a little dish of flake salt on our table, placed there to compliment some incredible bread, and I crushed and sprinkled the tiniest pinch of it over my dish to immediately discernible results. The minuscule addition made the tomato flavor in the sauce pop even more. But again, I'm a purist and a cook. Others may not have noticed or appreciated the difference.

And these were porzioni veramente italiane, truly Italian portions. No huge overflowing platters of food. These were perfectly plated individual portions, not great piles designed to feed ravenous hordes like you usually find in “Italian” places.

Speaking as I was of the bread, a complimentary plate of ciabatta and an olive oil rosemary bread was absolutely to die for when combined with a selection of condiments that included the aforementioned flake salt, some capers, some peperoncino, an herbed olive oil, and an insanely good lemon mascarpone butter. I'm definitely stealing that last one.

I'd also like to steal the hot cocoa souffle that capped our incredible meal. A fresh-baked hot chocolate souffle that was deflated tableside and filled with rich chocolate sauce and served next to a scoop of creamy marshmallow gelato. Buonissimo! Perfetto! Delizioso! And a whole bunch of other Italian superlatives.

Did this heavenly repast come cheap? Oh, hell no. My credit card went straight to ICU. But you know what? The food, the service, the atmosphere, the entire experience was worth every penny and I'll eagerly do it again next time I'm in town. Just don't think you're going to Olive Garden when you cross the threshold at Giada. The food is obviously superior to anything you'll ever get at such a place, but be aware that you'll get a lot less for a lot more.

Giada is located on the second floor of The Cromwell Hotel & Casino at 3595 S. Las Vegas Blvd. They serve a weekend brunch Friday, Saturday, and Sunday and are open from 9 a.m. to 10:30 p.m. those days. Monday through Thursday hours are 5 p.m until 10:30. Parking? Yeah, right. This is Vegas, baby. Reservations are not strictly required but are strongly suggested. Dress is golf course or business casual. But again, this is Vegas: don't be surprised by anything you see. Allow at least an hour to an hour-and-a-half for your dining experience. Call (855) 442-3271 or visit the website at https://www.caesars.com/cromwell/restaurants/giada .

Wednesday, June 28, 2017

Five Food Network Chefs Haters Love To Hate

“There's Always Going To Be Haters”

Since it signed on in 1993, Food Network – or the “TV Food Network" as it was called in those days – has presented us with quite a variety of food personalities. “Celebrity chefs” we call them, although many are not chefs at all. Some are “celebrity cooks” at best. But whether “chef” or “cook,” all are certainly celebrated in popular culture. And like most pop celebrities, they are either beloved or hated.

“Hate” is a strong word. Webster defines it as “intense hostility and aversion usually deriving from fear, anger, or sense of injury.” Honestly, how many TV chefs do you really fear? I think the Urban Dictionary does a better job of describing a “hater” as “a person that simply cannot be happy for another person's success. So rather than be happy they make a point of exposing a flaw in that person. Hating, the result of being a hater, is not exactly jealousy. The hater doesn't really want to be the person he or she hates, rather the hater wants to knock someone else down a notch.”

That definition resonates. So here, in no particular order and presented along with my own personal approbation or excoriation, are five “celebrity chefs” haters love to hate.


Giada De Laurentiis

Giada has a lot of haters. There are websites and blogs dedicated to hating on Giada De Laurentiis. It's almost a subculture. Some haters think she's pretentious and some haters think she's a poser and a fake. Some say, “She looks like she's afraid to get her hands dirty.” People hate on her because she smiles too much. People hate on her because she shows off her cleavage. People hate on her because they think her head is too big. A bunch of haters call her “man hands.” The hater media went nuts a while back with a story about Nicole Kidman “spitting out Giada's food” on TV.  One of the biggest reasons people cite for hating Giada is her “over-enunciation” of Italian words.

(Sigh)

I'm not claiming to be a personal friend, but at least I have met Giada. I've been in a room with her, spoken with her, spent time with her – which is more than most of her detractors can say. You want my two cents? You'll get it anyway. Calling another human being a “bobble head” is a strong indicator of your level of maturity. You want to hate on her because of her smile, her figure, her head, her hands – fine. I think hating somebody because of the way they look is the depth of shallowness.

Ignorance is also a poor excuse for hating someone. For instance, on the subject of her “over-enunciation” of Italian words, food blogger Brooke Newberry says: “Giada is totally from California. So what’s up with the Italian food pronunciation?”

Mi dispiace, tesoro, ma sei un idiota non informato. (Google it if you need to.) Giada is not “totally from California.” She's “totally” from Rome and hardly spoke English when she moved to California as a child. Funny, when Texas-born Mexican-American chef Aarón Sánchez “over-enunciates” Spanish words, nobody bitches. Why does Giada get the hate treatment for correctly speaking her native language?

Lest you think me a completely uncritical fanboy, there is one thing Giada does that drives me to distraction: she “grabs” everything. She grabs a bowl, she grabs a pan, she grabs a spoon, she grabs an onion. Please, Giada, grab a thesaurus!

As for the rest of the ninny-whiner BS, back off on all the “hate” and do a little research on Giada's background. You might find some holes in your bigotry.

Giada is philosophical about the whole thing. I asked her about it once and she said, “There's always going to be haters and there's always going to be people who like you and you just can't please everybody.”

Bobby Flay

One of the most common “hater points” about Bobby Flay is that he's cocky and arrogant. “Jerk” and “dick” are some of the more common epithets hurled in his direction. People think his shows “Throwdown” and “Beat Bobby Flay” are just vehicles to reinforce his arrogance by allowing him to beat down and lord it over lower level cooks. It's television, people. The Food Network execs are way more responsible for Bobby's image than Bobby himself is. And besides, he does lose now and again.

Muhammad Ali is credited with saying, “It's not bragging if you can back it up.” Bobby can back it up. He's been a linchpin at Food Network almost since Day One. He's had fourteen shows and specials on the network, eight of which still air regularly. He's also made crossover appearances on many of the network’s other programs as well as guest shots on shows like The Early Show over on CBS. Add in a half-dozen Daytime Emmy awards and three citations by the James Beard Foundation, including Rising Star Chef of the Year in 1993, a dozen best-selling cookbooks and a sprinkling of other television and movie roles, and I think maybe the cockiness is a little justified.

Based only on what I saw on TV, I used to think Bobby was a jerk, too. But after I met the man, spent some time talking with him, and watched his interaction with an awestruck young fan who had just won some sort of local cooking contest, my opinion completely changed. Isn't it amazing what a little education and information can do?

Guy Fieri

Boisterous, bleached, bowling-shirted Guy Fieri rubs a lot of people the wrong way. I'm one of them, but not really because of anything personal against Guido. I just don't like the way Food Network packages and markets him by shoving him down my throat 24/7/365. There is such a thing as too much of a good thing. But again, that's television. Find a good vehicle and drive it to death.

Guy is one of those “not a chef” celebrity chefs. He started his food career in grade school selling pretzels and washing dishes. After developing a more defined food focus as an exchange student in France, Guy worked in restaurants and wound up with a degree in Hotel Management from UNLV. The rest of his meteoric rise is Food Network history.

Never one to mince words, Anthony Bourdain describes Guy as “silly,” but also bears him grudging respect. "I look at that and think what a lot of people think: ridiculous and painful -- even insulting. But I also think 'That’s one hard-working man, glad I don’t have to work that hard.'”

Guy's over-the-top personality is not my cup of tea. I don't relate to man caves, hot rods, and hard rock. I've never met Guy. I don't “hate” him. I just don't think we have much in common. I could be wrong. Maybe the opportunity will arise for him to change my mind someday. It happened with Bobby.

There is one thing that endears Guy to me, though, and that's his attitude toward his name. His great-grandfather was one of thousands of Italian immigrants who changed the family name to “fit in” and “be more American.” To honor his family and his Italian heritage, Guy changed his name back from the Americanized “Ferry” to the original “Fieri.” And he properly rolls the “r” when he says it, too. Uh-oh, he'd better be careful; somebody might accuse him of “over-enunciating” an Italian word.

Sandra Lee

Sandra Lee has almost as many haters as Giada and for many of the same reasons. There's a lot of hate over Sandra's cleavage-baring outfits and her painted on smile. The main difference is that Sandra's haters aren't as vocal and virulent about it. Well, most of them anyway. Anthony Bourdain alone more than takes up the slack. "Pure evil. This frightening Hell Spawn of Kathie Lee and Betty Crocker seems on a mission to kill her fans, one meal at a time. She Must Be Stopped. Her death-dealing can-opening ways will cut a swath of destruction through the world if not contained." See what I mean?

A lot of haters think Sandra Lee is a plastic princess. She's bashed on a regular basis on hater websites like “Semi-Horrible Cooking” and YouTube channels like “Sandra Lee Sucks.” New York Times critic Amanda Hesser slams Sandra for seeming “more intent on encouraging people to create excuses for not cooking than on encouraging them to cook wholesome simple foods.”

I don't know Sandra Lee, so I can't “hate” her, per se, but I can disagree with her “Semi-Homemade” culinary POV. I'm an elitist fresh food snob and unrepentantly proud of it. Whereas Sandra's philosophy revolves around using thirty percent fresh ingredients and seventy percent canned or packaged dreck, my methodology runs in exactly the opposite direction. Except thirty percent might be a little generous. Bourdain further rips her signature style, "All you have to do is waddle into the kitchen, open a can of crap and spread it on some other crap that you bought at the supermarket. And then you've done something really special." That said, Mario Batali, himself no stranger to the fresh vs processed battle, opines, “She gets people out of fast-food chains, and that’s a good thing. At least she gets them in the kitchen, even if they are using frozen berries.” You can't disagree with that.

Sandra Lee came to Food Network about the time the network execs were turning away from actual trained chefs and bringing in more “relateable” cooks. She never actually wanted to do a “cooking show,” preferring the realm of home and garden. The network wonks basically said, “Fine. Do decorating and tablescapes if you want to. As long as you find a way to cook, too.” So, drawing on her two-week cooking course at Le Cordon Bleu in Ottawa, “Semi-Homemade” was born.

Aside from all that, Sandra has had a difficult path in life and I admire her pluck and courage. Like I said, I'm not a “hater” but neither am I a fan.

Paula Deen

Speaking of not being a fan, I've seen Paula Deen, the woman who advocates frying butter, in person and I remain largely unimpressed. Her “live cooking” demos are usually just excuses for her adoring dupes to gather and listen to and hoot about her tales of adult diapers and her husband's feet while her faithful and overworked assistant does all the actual cooking. Without an ounce of culinary training, Paula Deen employed enormous grit and determination to elevate herself from her “Bag Lady” days preparing bag lunches for office workers in Savannah to a successful restaurant in that city and then on to a national television empire. That much is admirable. Her empire crumbled, however, when some of her less admirable personality traits began to manifest themselves.

My wife and I watched some of her early televised efforts. They were.......cute......in a crazy Southern aunt sort of way. But even then her personality made something in me itch. I've lived in the South for more than forty years. I've resided in Virginia, Florida, Tennessee, Alabama, and both Carolinas and I've traveled extensively in Kentucky, Georgia, Mississippi, and the rest of the South. And I will tell you one thing most emphatically: in all my years and all my travels, I've never met anyone who says “y'all” as much as Paula Deen. Even my wife, born and bred in the “Heart of Dixie,” whose family tree has Southern roots that extend beyond “The Recent Unpleasantness” all the way back to before the founding of the republic, says there is not one leaf on even the remotest branch of that tree that sounds or acts anything like Paula Deen. My wife thinks she's an insulting stereotype. And I think that's also the source of my itch. I knew a woman in East Tennessee who sounded just like average folks most of the time; until she went to New York or Chicago and wanted to get something out of a Yankee. Then she became more country than Dolly Parton's left shoe. She stopped just shy of wearing a festive frock and a big floppy hat and saying, “fiddle-dee-dee.” Makes me wonder about Paula's “moonlight and magnolia” personality as well. As the country folks say, there's just something that doesn't gee-haw about that woman.

Apparently, I'm not alone in that assessment. TV personality Clinton Kelly, who was crudely insulted by the butter queen on his own show, says, “I find her shtick more annoying than a hangnail.” He adds that upon meeting her, “her good old-fashioned ‘charm’ struck me as artificial.”

Even though I have seen her in person, I don't know her personally so I can't “hate” her. But neither can I stand to watch her, live or on TV.

Well, that's five, I guess. But I have to give honorable mentions to Rachael Ray.

Another “non-chef” celebrity chef, she has obviously gained the affection and approval of her peers. Anthony Bourdain simply adores her: "We know she can't cook. She shrewdly tells us so. So, what is she selling us? Really? She's selling us satisfaction, the smug reassurance that mediocrity is quite enough." And Emeril Lagasse once said, “[She] doesn't know anything about food. I would not put her on.” With endorsements like those, how can you go wrong?

I've seen her described as “a chattin' n' chewin' machine fueled by sheer annoyingness.”

What Giada's and Sandra's smiles and cleavage and Guy's spiky hair are to some people, Rachael's voice is to me. Two minutes' exposure and my ears begin to bleed. I've heard it described as a “hoarse bark, bark, bark that sends me up the kitchen wall. She sounds like a dog left out in the rain.” And I am among legions of intelligent, well-spoken people who absolutely cringe over her cutesy additions to the culinary lexicon. “Delish?” “Yum-o?” “Sammie?” I'm sorry, my sandwich does not need a nickname. And if you really want to piss off any worthwhile Italian cook, just call extra-virgin olive oil “EVOO.” That annoys the crap out of me whenever and wherever I see it used.

To paraphrase an old Dean Martin hit, everybody hates somebody sometime. I've had my share. A commenter on this blog once called me a delusional idiot for a stance I took, throwing in “demented” and “long-winded” for good measure. I was leaving one of my radio shows for an acting gig once and my listeners were being effusive with praise on my last broadcast. Except for one caller who ripped me a new one on the air and hung up with a sarcastic “goodbye and good riddance.” All I could say after he hung up was, “Why in the hell did he ever listen in the first place?”

And that's my advice to haters of any stripe. We live in the land of the free, after all, and if you don't like Giada or Bobby or Guy or Sandra or Paula or Rachael or Food Network in general, you're free to not watch. You notice I didn't say anything about personally “hating” anybody on my list. I just don't watch the ones I don't like. Similarly, I don't watch anything with “Housewives” or “Kardashian” in the title and that decision just fills my life with sunshine and happiness. I don't “hate” because I don't care.

William Shatner once got a lot of hate for his SNL “get a life!” diatribe. But you know what? It's pretty good advice.

Tuesday, May 23, 2017

Is Anybody Else Sick Of Kids On TV?

What's Next? CSI Junior?

You know the old adage that says, “Children should be seen and not heard?” It seems television these days has really taken the first part of that saying to heart and, at the risk of sounding like the crusty old curmudgeon I am, I'm frankly sick of it.

You can't turn on the blasted boob-tube these days without seeing passels of precocious little pollywogs parading around in some sort of competitive contest. Okay, so maybe the first couple of these programs were mildly entertaining when they hit the airwaves because they were unique. But in its classically derivative, brain-dead, creativity impaired way, television has turned the unique into the ubiquitous, thus destroying any entertainment value the concept might once have possessed. It's like the people who pitch ideas to the networks have decided that slapping the word “junior” on any and everything is a guaranteed sale. And, unfortunately, they appear to be right.

It started with food shows. Somebody got the bright idea that pairing MasterChef's notoriously profane chef Gordon Ramsay, his dour partner Joe Bastianich, and jolly Graham Elliot with a bunch of callow kiddies was going to be “must watch” TV. Who knew? MasterChef Junior became a hit. Apparently there was an itch that just needed to be scratched among American viewers to see a trio of world-class chefs and restaurateurs take a pie in the kisser. And, of course, if Fox could have a hit with a cadre of culinarily clever kids, you know the reigning king of derivative drivel known as Food Network would have to give it a go. So up popped Chopped Junior, and Rachael Ray's Kids Cook-Off, and Kids Baking Championship. There was one entry I (thankfully) missed on FYI called Man vs. Child: Chef Showdown. And I can't quite tell if a You Tube offering called Little Chef, featuring a be-toqued blond moppet named “Tommy Little,” was a serious attempt to cash in on the genre or just a bad parody.

Now get ready, world, because the cooking competition you've all been breathlessly awaiting, Top Chef Junior, is coming to a television screen near you. Oh. Boy. More cute kids in chef coats. Pardon my general lack of enthusiasm. Somebody at Bravo must have a tight grip on poor Curtis Stone's tender parts to get him to host yet another Top Chef spinoff. I would like to say I can hardly wait to watch this one, but actually I can. Eternally, in fact.

And because it's been proven that kids can drive ratings in the kitchen, the next logical step would be to move them out into the ballroom, right? That's apparently what ABC believes as they foist off Dancing With the Stars Junior upon an undemanding world. The pastiche will feature celebrity kids and kids of celebrities paired up weekly with young professional dancers to perform those wonderfully choreographed routines we've all come to love on the original DWTS, or, as I sometimes call it, “Hoofing With The Has Beens.” Count me out from the get-go on this one.

I mean, really! What's next? “CSI Junior,” in which an elite team of underage forensic evidence investigators solve cases at their local high school? The venerable old Survivor series has been in something of a slump. Think of the fun CBS could have with “Survivor Junior!” How about “The Amazing Race Junior” in which teams of tots deduce clues, navigate city streets, interact with locals, and perform physical and mental challenges all while mounted on tricycles and scooters? And wouldn't “Hells Kitchen Junior” be a hoot? I might actually watch that one, if just to see Gordon Ramsay tell a ten-year-old to “piss off.” Or to see how many “bleeps” a prepubescent potty-mouth can fit into one sentence. That's entertainment!

It's gotta stop somewhere, right? No, it really doesn't. Take a look at the unending procession of prequels, sequels, and “reimaginings” being churned out for our consumption on screens both large and small and you'll understand that the people who produce this dreck don't consider derivativeness to be a bad thing. So look for them to keep pushing precocity in our faces until long after today's “junior” stars have become grandparents. I'm afraid we're only seeing the tip of the iceberg. The ice chips, as it were.

I guess part of the problem for me is that I don't get all soft and squishy over every little doe-eyed, dimpled darling I see, on TV or elsewhere. Admittedly, some of the kids on these shows are simply adorable, but at the same time, there are others that are simply deplorable. Their antics may be seen as “cute” by some, but all they do for me is set off my brat detector, making them very hard to watch. Don't get me wrong; I'm not a “kid-hater.” I raised two of my own and I now have a delightful bunch of grands to enjoy. But too much of even a good thing is still too much, and by forcing ever larger boluses of kid-centric programming down our throats, the TV execs are rapidly approaching satiety.

And then there's the creeping sense I get of being played. Producers would have you believe these wunderkinds are just average kids plucked off the streets and thrust into circumstances under which they perform like seasoned professionals. Come on! If this is “reality TV,” let's get real. When I was twelve years old I could make a mean meal for my family – as long as they liked grilled cheese sandwiches and frozen French fries. Or maybe Kraft Macaroni and Cheese or Minute Rice. My eldest son could whip up a nice spice cake from scratch when he was ten. Both of us have since gone on to run food service operations but I doubt that either of us, even today, could construct some of the elaborate dishes these pint-size “home cooks” toss off with such effortless panache. What? You mean your eleven-year-old can't just whip up an almond-crusted Chilean sea bass with wilted spinach and baby eggplant and a curry yogurt sauce? You say they can barely manage fish sticks and tater tots? Where did you go wrong? If a pan seared filet mignon with sauteed shrimp, glazed carrots and mushroom cream sauce is out of your kid's wheelhouse, you've obviously got an underachiever on your hands.

What they don't show you – and I wish they would – is that these kids are getting massive amounts of off-screen instruction from teams of culinary experts who spend all the hours the child labor laws will allow covering ingredients and going over technique, safety practices, plating and everything else a person of any age would be taught in culinary school. Supposedly, the kids aren't actually coached on particular dishes, but they are given access to tons of cookbooks and resources to help them achieve those “restaurant quality” results. And what would be wrong with letting the viewers see some of this? I, for one, think a few “behind the scenes” vignettes would be much more entertaining and would show us more about the real kids than those dreadful interview segments. Sometimes these kids seem more like budding actors than future chefs. They're all too smooth, glib, and witty for my taste. In fact, one MasterChef Junior alum, Oona Yaffe, landed a continuing supporting role on Fox's Sleepy Hollow. How about taking some real kids from real circumstances, kids who can hardly string three words together in front of a camera and who can barely boil water, and letting us watch them grow and learn as people and as cooks? That would be “reality TV” worth watching.

Oh, well. The channel selector on my remote works very well and I'm a firm believer in voting with my eyes. For my part, when I want to watch kids on TV, I look at videos of my grandchildren. They can't make a perfect Beef Wellington and their paso doble leaves much to be desired, but they're all the kid-centric entertainment I need.

Wednesday, February 8, 2017

TV Cooks Set Bad Examples For Health And Food Safety

Don't Try This At Home

I used to watch a lot of food TV. Not as much anymore since Food Network became nothing more than a useless collection of mindless game shows, but I suppose I still watch more food programming than most. It's part of what I do. And I've been a little concerned by what I see: TV cooks setting really bad examples for health and food safety.

It's surprising because, theoretically at least, these people should know better. Anybody who has been through culinary school or run a restaurant should have a thorough working knowledge of food safety. But considering the caliber of “stars” Food Network is turning out these days, maybe it isn't so surprising after all.

I've run a couple of restaurants and I've done some catering, so I'm quite familiar with health codes. The average consumer would not believe the standards to which the people who prepare and serve their food are held. State, county, and local health departments establish incredibly strict policies and practices aimed at making sure the food you eat away from home is handled as hygienically as possible. Health inspectors enforce these regulations. Most restaurateurs will tell you that some of the enforcement borders on the ridiculous. But whether restaurant management and staff like them or not, the rules are there for public safety.

As many as one in six Americans are exposed to foodborne illnesses every year. Sometimes the results are nothing more serious than a little “stomach bug,” but oftentimes “food poisoning,” as it's commonly called, can be much more serious, even fatal. And it's up to us, the people who cook for other people, to make sure that kind of thing doesn't happen on our watch.

It's not just the responsibility of professional cooks. Home cooks have to be just as diligent in following health and safety rules in the kitchen. If I screw up in a restaurant kitchen, I could sicken or kill a customer. If you screw up in your home kitchen, you could sicken or kill your kids. And that kind of brings me back to my point: a lot of home cooks look to the pros for examples. But it's not just recipes they're copying. They're also looking at the way the professional TV cook conducts him or herself in the kitchen. And some of that conduct is pretty scary.

For example: you almost never see any form of hair restraint on TV. Let's face it, hairnets look dumb. Hats, bandanas, skull caps – it's hard to look like a TV star while wearing stuff like that. Some TV chefs, like Mario Batali, wear a ponytail. Then there are the guys who sport those curly locks and big bushy beards on TV. Bet they kept 'em covered in culinary school. Guy Fieri might look super cool rockin' that spiky 'do on TV, but he'd have to keep a lid on it in a real restaurant. Of course, guys like Michael Symon and Tom Colicchio don't have to worry about it. But I can't recall the last time I saw a female “celebrity chef” wearing anything that would resemble something the health code for her restaurant would require her to wear. I know these ladies spend lots of time and big bucks maintaining their stunning coiffures, but a health inspector in my county would throw the likes of Anne Burrell right out of the kitchen. Sometimes contestants on “reality” shows like “Top Chef,” “Chopped,” or “Hell's Kitchen” make an effort to reflect actual reality. But the scripted shows? Almost never.

And it's not just hair covering. Have you ever noticed TV cooks touching, brushing back, or just generally fussing with their hair? I promise you, if a health inspector saw that in a restaurant kitchen, he would make the cook stop what he was doing and go wash his hands. Same goes for scratching your nose, wiping your eyes, or touching your face in general.

It's not just me noticing these things. Separate studies conducted last year by the University of Massachusetts Amherst, Kansas State University, and Tennessee State University all reached similar conclusions: that TV cooks are failing to demonstrate proper safety and food handling techniques. In the Kansas State and Tennessee State studies researchers watched a hundred TV cooking shows featuring twenty-four prominent celebrity chefs. The results yielded numerous instances of unsanitary food preparation practices. The study noted, for instance, that twenty percent of the TV cooks viewed touched their hair or dirty clothing or other dirty objects and then touched food again. The same study found twenty-three percent of the cooks licking their fingers. Nasty. Other egregious findings included not changing out cutting boards between prepping raw meat and vegetables, and not using a meat thermometer to check meat doneness.

Okay, so every chef I know can tell the doneness of a steak by touching it. There's a little trick you learn that involves touching the heel of your palm and touching the meat and comparing the feeling. But that doesn't really take the place of temping a piece of meat with a thermometer, especially when you're trying to demonstrate proper food safety. There are tons of little kitchen short cuts that every chef knows. And every chef knows the health inspector will bust him if he gets caught using them.

Another thing cited in the studies was improper handwashing. It was noted that some TV chefs washed their hands when they started cooking something but failed to do so again at times when they should have, like when handling raw meat and then picking up other foods or utensils. Some chefs didn't seem to wash their hands at all. Technically.......technically they should be wearing gloves when working with food they're going to serve to other people. That's they way they work in restaurant kitchens. I can show you loads of citations issued to restaurant workers around my area who violate that regulation. I even saw one the other day where some doofus washed his hands while wearing gloves. Needless to say, that one didn't get past the inspector. Does that mean you have to wear gloves at home? No, of course not. But you should exercise hygienic handwashing procedures, and if the people you're watching on TV aren't doing it, you likely won't do it either.

See, there's the problem: the balance between entertaining and educating. Intentionally or not, these people are setting themselves up as teachers. In our current era of government mistrust, it shouldn't be surprising to learn that only thirty-three percent of recently polled consumers said they trusted the government for food safety information. An astonishing seventy-three percent of respondents said they got their food safety information from the media, with twenty-two percent of that figure saying they used cooking shows as their primary source of food safety information. Wow.

But in order to be successful, you've got to be glamorous and attractive on TV. It's all about personality and hair and makeup and sets. You've got to be witty and entertaining. You've got to make it look so easy and appealing. TV cooks have everything laid out for them. They just smile, assemble and stir. You seldom see the hours of work the prep cooks behind the scenes go through in order to make the “star's” work look effortless. And that's a shame because proper prep is more than half the battle. I'm not saying the people in front of the cameras aren't real cooks because most of them certainly are. With the exception of the current crop of talentless “talent” produced by “Next Food Network Star,” all of them have paid their dues and have the chops to show for it. But when you take them out of real kitchens and put them on kitchen sets, they become less professional cooks and more TV personalities with greater concern for the camera, the lights, and the clock than for actually teaching you how to cook.

One of the study authors feels that the TV chef's purpose should be not only to to entertain but also to educate about food preparation techniques and helpful kitchen hints, including proper food safety practices. And some of them do. Although none of the chefs studied had a perfect record, a few were seen saying things like “remember to wash your hands” or “don't forget to change your cutting board.” Some even did it onscreen. But most weren't going to squander valuable air time walking over to a sink and spending precious seconds washing up several times during a segment. And according to those conducting the studies, that's setting a bad example.

The U.S. Department of Agriculture, the Food and Drug Administration, and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention sponsor a program called “Fight Bac!”, a campaign that encourages home cooks to properly clean, separate, cook, and chill to help prevent foodborne illness. (www.fightbac.org) It was by the standards of this initiative that the TV chefs were judged by Kansas State and Tennessee State. Researchers at U Mass Amherst developed their own nineteen question survey adapted from the Massachusetts Food Establishment Inspection Report. The survey measured hygienic food practices such as use of utensils and gloves, protection from contamination, and time and temperature control. A panel of state regulators and food safety practitioners participated in the Massachusetts study, viewing a total of thirty-nine episodes of ten popular cooking shows. Like the studies conducted in Kansas and Tennessee, researchers found a lot of problems. Safety practices were out of compliance with recommendations in at least seventy percent of the episodes viewed. Worse, appropriate food safety measures were only mentioned in three episodes.

Look, let's be real. In my home kitchen I'm generally only cooking for my wife and myself. So do I wear gloves and keep my hair covered? No. When my wife cooks or bakes does she remove her nail polish as the local health code would demand if she were in a professional kitchen? Of course not. But we do adhere to the same basic standards in our home kitchen that we use in restaurant cooking. We wash our hands as required by whatever we're preparing. We have a spray bottle of the same kind of chlorine sanitizer used in restaurants and we spray down countertops and cooking surfaces as necessary. We keep our utensils and appliances clean, sanitized, and in good condition. And we practice good technique. I made sauce the other day. Like Julia Child famously said, I was alone in the kitchen. Could I have just stuck a finger in the sauce to taste it? Sure. Who would have known? But I used a tasting spoon and I got a clean one the next time I tasted the sauce. I find it's easier to maintain a higher standard if I just do it all the time. And if I'm cooking for other people – like if friends come over for dinner or something – I ratchet that standard up even higher. I actually do have gloves in my home kitchen and hats are hanging with the aprons on the back of the door. I like it when guests sit in my kitchen and watch me cook. They can observe what I'm doing and sometimes they even ask why I'm doing it. Those are called teaching moments, and if I can do it in my kitchen for a handful of guests, the TV chefs who make the big bucks and have huge audiences should certainly do it in theirs.

Study authors have thoughts regarding opportunities for improvement in televised food programming. One of the ideas put forth is to require food safety training for TV chefs and guests on their shows. That's okay, but most real chefs already have such training. It was part of their culinary school curriculum and it's a daily factor in the restaurant world. Another idea involves changing the structural environment to support safe food handling. That'll be a hard sell among the bean counters and suits, I'm afraid. But one suggestion that might actually work is to include food safety elements in the shows' scripts. That one could fly because it wouldn't cost anything and it would enhance the chef/host's image as a knowledgeable source.

Bottom line? As with most things you see on TV, don't try this at home. There are numerous sources and resources available to home cooks seeking to improve their health and food safety knowledge. Local health departments and community colleges often offer courses and classes. There are scads of websites that provide tips and tricks. Don't put your health and the health of your family and friends in the hands of some TV cook, no matter how “famous”, who's primarily being paid to entertain you. Salmonellosis, listeriosis, hepatitis, and hemorrhagic colitis are awfully high prices to pay for a little entertainment. Cooking is not a clean business. It's full of blood and guts and dirt and raw meat and smoke and grease and lots of other unpleasant things. A major part of learning to cook is learning to cook safely. Don't rely on TV for that vital education.

Wednesday, January 13, 2016

Food Network's “Worst Cooks” Revisited

Even More Unbelievable

A few years ago, I wrote about “Worst Cooks In America,” a program that airs (errs?) on Food Network. At the time I thought maybe they were just going for ratings by presenting a “reality” show that was simply unreal. Now, as the pastiche enters its eighth season, it's even more unbelievable.

I once performed in a live show wherein we brought up a guy from the audience to participate in the proceedings. He was supposed to be just an average guy suddenly thrust into the spotlight and put in an uncomfortable situation. He turned out to be as dense as a mud brick and the comedy that ensued centered on making him look inept and foolish. He was, of course, what we in the business call a “plant” or a “shill.” He was an actor on the payroll to perform the role of an exceedingly naïve “common man.” And I'm sorry, but the producers of “Worst Cooks” will never convince me that the same thing isn't going on on their show. Why else would there be questions about acting experience on the audition form? “Have you ever acted, performed or appeared on a TV show (scripted, non-scripted, series, game, talk, documentary, etc) or in a film?” “If YES, please list the last three most recent appearances you've made and when.” Season 6 “winner,” Alina Bolshakova, is an experienced actress with a full resume on IMDb.

Last night, I watched a woman have a spasm over measuring ¼ cup of liquid. She claims to not even own a measuring cup and couldn't fathom the concept of “one-quarter.” She wound up measuring out 1 ¼ cups instead, to predictably disastrous results. Really? If this supposed simpleton can't grasp the concept of quartering a whole, I want to be around when she's divvying up the dollars. Then there was the brain trust who couldn't figure out “finely chopped”; she kept saying “FIN-ly” and blamed it on her poor command of English. When “FINE-ly” was finally explained to her, she still didn't understand the concept. Nor was she able to understand “halved.”

Things like “I can't read a recipe” and “I don't understand the words” are the common excuses employed among contestants to explain their abject stupidity. Guess they have a real problem with “some assembly required,” too, huh? Better keep them away from IKEA.

Then there's painful ignorance. When asked to get a plantain from the pantry, the “truck driver” says, “What the hell is a plantain?” And when he's shown one, his response is, “Well, why didn't you just call it a banana in the first place.” Don't tell me it's an honest mistake. He wasn't asked to explain what a plantain was, where it came from, and how it would be used in a recipe. He was asked to pick one out of a limited group of foods. Has he never been in the produce section of a grocery store? I don't know the first thing about an intake manifold, but I can point to one at Auto Zone.

No, I think the producers of “Worst Cooks” deliberately coach these people to be as dumb as humanly possible so that people like me will sit there screaming at the TV and cringing at the antics of apparent idiots who would dump an entire jar of seasoning into a single dish. Even if these folks aren't all professional actors, they are being coached to play to extreme type. The geek, the nervous nellie, the wannabe sexpot, the gay flamer, the clueless blonde, the hunky-but-dumb guy – they're all there every season. To those of us who know how to cook, it's kind of like watching a horrible train wreck week after week. And I think that's the point.

I started cooking when I was seven. I say “cooking,” but there was a lot of Minute Rice, Kraft Macaroni and Cheese, and frozen French fries involved in those early efforts. It took me years to graduate to more complex and sophisticated dishes. And yet, here we have these alleged kitchen hazards who can barely boil water watch a chef prepare a dish even I, with fifty-plus years of experience, would be reluctant to attempt. They watch one demo and then replicate the dish on the first try in sixty minutes or less. Uh-huh. I believe that one.

Just like I believe that cadres of kids and amateurs on all the myriad cooking competition shows that overpopulate the airwaves these days just instinctively or perhaps miraculously know how to whip up a perfect Bearnaise sauce from scratch. You see it all the time; they are turned loose in the pantry and they know exactly what to pick out and exactly how to use it. No recipes, no cookbooks, no instructions. The average twenty-year-old grocery clerk or ten-year-old grade-schooler just naturally knows how to turn out duck a l'orange, don't they? Or steak au poivre? I've lived in the South. Everybody there knows how to prepare a perfect clam chowder without ever once looking at a note, and beef wellington is something anybody can fix, right? C'mon! In the past few years it's been revealed that shows like “Master Chef,” both the junior and senior versions, actually give intensive cooking lessons to all the “amateur” contestants before they go on the air. You can't tell me the same thing isn't happening over at “Worst Cooks.” Except there they are being instructed to look just stupid enough to be real – or unreal – to be in keeping with the theme of the show. Then, after just a few weeks of stumbling and bumbling around like hopeless stereotypes, they are suddenly able to pull off a five-star Michelin dinner that fools a panel of high-powered food experts. Ri-i-i-i-i-i-i-ght! You know, it is said that it takes a good singer to sing badly. The same holds true for actors, and the actors on “Worst Cooks In America” are among the best.

You do know, I hope, that there are websites out there pandering to people who want to be “reality” TV stars? They instruct wannabes as to the ins and outs of getting on a “reality” show. That just makes it all seem that much more “real,” right? And when the producers put out a casting call, they don't pick the boring average people. I mean, who wants to watch somebody normal? No, the entertainment value is in the oddballs and the extremists, the ones who often pay a service to put them out there in front of casting directors. You don't honestly believe that the fifty-something woman who can't figure out a measuring cup is for real, do you? She's as real as the producers and directors want her to be.

Go ahead. Watch “Worst Cooks In America.” I do. It's set up on my DVR every Sunday night. I'll likely keep watching and screaming and staring in disbelief because that's what I'm being programmed to do. We're all being programmed to lower our standards. But remember, it's nothing more than theater of the mindless. I'll never believe it, and neither should you.

Tuesday, December 15, 2015

Leave Giada De Laurentiss and Bobby Flay Alone!

They're Just a Couple of COOKS!

The tabloid media is at it again. This morning's newsfeed contained no fewer than five headlines screaming claims about the alleged relationship between Giada De Laurentiss and Bobby Flay. From the moment Giada broke up housekeeping with her fashion-designer husband and Bobby called it quits with his actress wife, the gossip mongers have been trying to tie the two of them together. The pair are longtime friends and longtime coworkers and the fact that they were seen together soon after their respective divorces obviously indicates that they are off mattress pounding somewhere, right?

The parasites that make money from prying into other people's lives got their noses tweaked when, despite their predictions, Giada and Bobby failed to materialize as a bona fide couple. Instead, she turned up with a new boyfriend. Well, the sleazeballs tried to generate heat out of that by claiming that she knew him while she was still married. Yeah? So what? He's a TV producer and she's on TV. Network execs were trying to get him to produce a project that would feature her. So, yeah, I would expect that they knew each other. And now the latest from the garbage dump is that Giada's new boyfriend is just a red herring. That she's just using him as a decoy because she and Bobby are still secretly planning to get married. Uffa!

Well, I don't know either of them well enough to be involved in their personal lives.....and neither do you. I've met both of them and spent time talking about food and cooking with each of them, but the subject of their sleeping arrangements somehow never came up. And you know what? I. Don't. Care! And neither should you. And the reason none of us should care is quite simple: it's none of our damn business!

Thanks to “reality” television and its Internet offspring, our society has carried the cult of celebrity way too far. It used to be that “celebrities” were the people who personified our fantasies, dreams, and ambitions on the stage and the silver screen. They were the “glitterati.” We wanted to see them so we could be them. When Clark Gable took off his shirt onscreen and revealed that he wasn't wearing an undershirt, undershirt sales plummeted. When Lana Turner wore a sweater, sweater sales soared. Musicians like Frank Sinatra, Elvis, and The Beatles inspired intense scrutiny and generated screaming hordes of manic followers desperate for the merest scraps of association with their idols.

Fast forward to today and the people who currently personify our fantasies, dreams, and ambitions. Frankly, I could not possibly care less about the goings on between Mama June and Sugar Bear. I don't care if he wears an undershirt and she wears a sweater. I wouldn't care if she wore the undershirt and he wore the sweater. And their offspring, Honey Boo-Boo, is a brat. I don't care if the Robertson family has its ducks in a row and the “Real Housewives” of any particular place can just stay home. I. Don't. CARE! Kim Kardashian can run naked and Miley Cyrus can run amok and I still don't care. If I want to observe drama on a daily basis, I have in-laws! If I want pathos and bathos – or maybe Porthos and Athos, for that matter – I have family and friends. I don't need reality on TV: I'm up to my ass in it in real life.

And that's why I don't care what Bobby and Giada may or may not be doing. Because, in the final analysis, they're not celebrities. They're just a couple of cooks, for Pete's sake! Twenty or so years ago, Bobby was a high school dropout who was working his way up the New York City food ladder and Giada was the not-at-all famous granddaughter of a famous movie producer who was slogging it out in the restaurant trenches in LA. Would you have cared two whits about whether they were cheating on their spouses and screwing around with each other back then? So why should you care now? I don't. I care a lot more about what they put on the plates than I do about what they do under the sheets. Because what they do in the kitchen matters and what they do in the bedroom doesn't. Hey, I hear my plumber's wife has been getting it on with the husband of the woman who cuts my hair. Do you suppose I should call the National Enquirer?

I know, I know. “Public figures” are fair game. But who made them “public figures,” anyway? The public, that's who. Or, at least, the element of said public that has no life of its own and has to live vicariously through others. The defining line between real “celebrities” like Gable and Elvis and manufactured “celebrities” like Bobby and Giada is that the former actively sought out celebrity. They wanted to be “stars.” Giada and Bobby didn't. They never aspired to be “public figures.” When Bobby was working for Jonathan Waxman and when Giada was working for Wolfgang Puck, all they ever wanted to be was good cooks. Giada had an obvious leg up in the entertainment business, but she didn't want it. She just wanted to cook. When they were offered the chance to cook on TV, it wasn't a “star vehicle” they saw; it was just the next step up the ladder to success in the kitchen. Get on TV and get some exposure for your restaurant or get a boost for your career. We made them public figures: they just wanted to be cooks. In our obsession to idolize and glamorize and deify anybody who puts their face in front of a camera these days, we decided that we had the right to build them up and to tear them down. But we don't. They're still people. People just like us. “Enquiring minds want to know”? Maybe we should just mind our own business.

So leave Giada and Bobby alone. Let them cook. If they both got kicked off TV today, never to return to the public eye again, that's still what they would do. So watch their TV shows and try their recipes, or visit their restaurants and eat their food. Don't make them celebrities and they won't be celebrities. Then the only reason you'll have for being involved in their personal lives is if they up and start screwing on your table between the salad course and the entree. Otherwise, butt out.

Friday, November 6, 2015

Rachael Ray Says She's Not A Chef: A Lot Of People Aren't

But She Plays One On TV

Food celebrity Rachael Ray has reiterated her longstanding objection to being called a “chef.” In a recent Huff Post interview she states that she prefers to be called “a cook.” Why? “I have pause when people refer to me as a 'chef' because I'm simply not.” She says she didn't go to the CIA (Culinary Institute of America) and she thinks that calling her a “chef” would be “disrespectful of people who did.” But let's think about that one, Rach. There are certain distinctions to be made.

In the 21st century food and entertainment world, anybody who cooks on TV is called a “celebrity chef.” And sometimes the inaccuracy really grinds my gears. Wolfgang Puck is a chef. Mario Batali is a chef. Cat Cora is a chef. Emeril Legasse is a chef. Bobby Flay is a chef. Like her or hate her, Giada De Laurentiis is a chef. On the other hand, Sandra Lee is not a chef and former “Bag Lady” Paula Deen is definitely not a chef. (That's not a pejorative: when she started out in the food business making bag lunches for office workers in Savannah, Deen called herself “The Bag Lady.”) Her sons aren't chefs either. “Pioneer Woman” Ree Drummond is not a chef. Neither is the ubiquitous and vastly annoying Guy Fieri, although he at least has a degree in hotel management. Nigella Lawson may be a “Domestic Goddess,” but she's not a chef. And yet the undiscriminating public lumps them all together as “celebrity chefs.” Emphasis, I think, on the “celebrity” part.

Let's look at the word “chef.” Literally translated from French, it means “chief.” It refers to someone who is the head or the leader of a group of people. Old French-Canadian records indicate that all my male ancestors were chefs because that was how they were designated on the census forms. In that instance, the word related to their status as heads of their households. In the food world, the “chef” is the head of the restaurant staff. At it's most basic form, the position of “chef” is merely an indicator of the person who oversees the kitchen. The “chief cook.” And that certainly does not require an extensive and expensive culinary education. In simple terms, a “chef” needs to be able to cook to a degree that enables him or her to lead other cooks.

But, alas, we no longer live in simple times. The reality of life today lends itself to specialization. Everybody has to have a very specific job that includes a very specific title. And so it is with chefs. Most people define a “chef” as the person who creates the menu and oversees all back of the house functions like ordering and scheduling. They have to be up on food costs and they need to know their way around health codes and regulations. According to some purists, a chef has to meet the stringent criteria of the American Culinary Foundation. They have to be certified in nutrition and sanitation. There are exams and practical skills tests involved. They have to take management courses and have at minimum a two-year degree from an accredited culinary school. And, oh yeah, it helps if they can cook.

On the flip side, there are just a hell of a lot of chefs out there who never saw the outside of a culinary school, much less the inside. Their exams and practical skills started with washing dishes and working their way up. Let me be there when you tell Tom Colicchio, Jamie Oliver, or Thomas Keller that they aren't really “chefs” because they didn't go to culinary school. Certainly the world renowned Ferran Adrià is a classically trained chef, right? Surely he met all those stringent educational criteria before basically inventing molecular gastronomy, right? Nah. He dropped out of school and worked as a dishwasher in a hotel restaurant. Then he learned his trade from a bunch of other people who probably didn't meet the criteria for being “chefs” either.

Want to know who else doesn't qualify academically as a chef? How about the aforementioned Wolfgang Puck? His education came through apprenticeship. Does anybody debate the inclusion of Alice Waters among the pantheon of American chefs? She has a degree in French Cultural Studies, but no culinary school. Internationally recognized chef Jacques Pépin started out in his family's restaurant and later apprenticed in Paris. But no “Le Cordon Bleu” or other “formal training.” Similarly, French legend Paul Bocuse studied under Eugénie Brazier, the first chef to attain six Michelin stars. She also had no “formal training.” Daniel Boulud was a finalist in France's competition for Best Culinary Apprentice at age fifteen. No culinary school for him; he apprenticed his way to culinary stardom. Hunky Aussie chef Curtis Stone worked his way up ladder. Lidia Bastianich may head a restaurant empire now, but in her first eatery in Queens, she copied recipes from successful Italian restaurants and hired an Italian-American chef to execute them. No culinary school for her. And the late Cajun and Creole king, Paul Prudhomme, was entirely self-taught.

And, by the way, do you know what one of the highest culinary prizes in America is? I'm referring, of course, to the James Beard award. And did you also know that James Beard, the Dean of American Cuisine, never spent a day in culinary school? He was an unsuccessful actor who started up a catering business that ultimately led to cookbooks, speaking engagements, and to the establishment of his own cooking school. Not bad for someone who was never certified in nutrition and sanitation and all the other fal de rol that some people associate with chefdom. James Beard was nothing but a cook, and yet all the hoity toity chefs want his name associated with their restaurants. Strange, huh?

There are four generations of food professionals in my family. My grandfather and a couple of uncles were restaurateurs. I do what I do as a cook and a writer, and my son has worked his way up from fast food to management of a couple of pretty nice upscale places. My grandfather and my uncles cooked. My son and I cook. Despite the fact that we've all had a hand in creating menus, ordering supplies, supervising operations, and, oh yeah, preparing food, do any of us qualify as “chefs?” Meh.

The people for whom I cook often call me a chef. And for lack of a more comprehensive term, I sometimes bill myself as a “personal chef.” All that means is that I cook for people who pay me to do so. Perhaps “personal cook” would be more accurate, but such a term does not exist in the industry, so I go with what works. I do not, however, delude myself or others into thinking that I am a classically trained chef. Sure, I'm a better than average cook. If I weren't, people wouldn't be paying me to cook for them. Yeah, I know a lot about food and technique because I've taken a gazillion classes and read a gazillion books. And I've been cooking for a gazillion years. But am I a “chef?” Like Rachael, the word makes me squeamish, largely because I know my limitations.

Here's why I'm not a chef: Give me some basic, everyday ingredients and a decent kitchen and I'll whip up some unforgettably good food for you. A gas stove, some good pots and pans, a handful of tools and utensils, a few tomatoes, some onions, garlic, herbs and spices and I'll have you drooling over a delicious tomato sauce mixed with some of my handmade pasta. And you can sop up any leftover sauce with some of my fresh-baked bread. It'll be good, I promise. As long as I'm working with ingredients and techniques that fall within my comfort zone.

Now...drop off somebody like Mario Batali in the middle of the woods with nothing but a knife and a box of matches, and in ten minutes he'll make you a feast. THAT'S a chef! Oh, and did I mention that Mario dropped out of culinary school? He never got that minimal two-year degree that qualifies him as a real “chef.”

I mean, I watch “Chopped” and “Iron Chef” and “Top Chef” and similar shows and I sit there, mouth agape and eyes glazed over, as people throw together real, honest-to-goodness, edible dishes made from weird things, some of which I didn't even know existed. C'mon! Cactus flower buds, rose water, quince paste? Goat brains? Sea cucumbers? My wife and I are are like, “what the hell is that?” And then Ted Allen explains it and we're still like, “what the hell would you do with it?” And then the competitors do something wonderful with it in twenty minutes. Things that I couldn't conceive of in twenty hours. No, I'm not a chef. I'm a really good cook, but those people, the ones who can make something out of anything or nothing, are chefs. And some of them never went to culinary school either.

So what it really comes down to in the final analysis is the ability to walk the walk and talk the talk. Like James Beard, I came to the kitchen by way of the theater. There's another place where ability often trumps education. There are a lot of bad actors out there with good educations. A diploma does not make someone with no talent into an actor. You either are one or you're not. Same thing applies to being a chef. Give me somebody with raw talent and gut instinct any day. The old joke goes, “you know what you call a med student who finished last in his class? Doctor.” Just because you got a piece of expensive paper that says you went to school for two years doesn't mean you're any good in the kitchen. I've probably logged a thousand hours in online and hands-on cooking classes. In more than fifty years of standing at a stove, I've thoroughly tested my practical skills. I've even studied the ServSafe exam for food professionals. So I'm a chef, right? Nah. Not once you take me out of my comfort zone. I know a lot about food because I've studied it inside and out. I can make a phenomenal American breakfast and I can handle myself well in an Italian kitchen because those are the things I know and understand. The things with which I have great experience and familiarity. Take me out in the woods with a knife and a box of matches and I'll cut myself and burn down the forest just before I starve to death. So, no, I'm not a chef. And a whole lot of people who call themselves “chefs” aren't either. They're nothing more than over-hyped and/or over-educated cooks. Or celebrities.

Kudos to Rachael Ray for recognizing her limitations. That's the real difference between a cook and a chef.

Friday, June 12, 2015

“Caramelize”: An Annoying Culinary Buzzword

What's Wrong With Plain Ol' “Brown”?

To my increasing annoyance, I notice that a lot of people cooking on TV these days appear to be educated beyond their intelligence. It's a common failing among those who feel compelled to demonstrate a higher level of erudition than they actually posses. The most common example of this compulsion is the employment of “big words.” I'm sure you're familiar with the phenomenon. Everybody knows somebody who tries to impress with excessive grandiloquence. As one who frequently uses “ten dollar words” when fifty-cent ones will do, I am quite familiar with the practice. The difference, however, is that I know what the big words mean and I use them appropriately. I would much rather sound supercilious than stupid.

The particular focus of my ire today is the ubiquitous culinary buzzword “caramelize.” “Caramelize” is a great word. When pronounced properly, it has four syllables rather than three and it means one of two things: either to change sugar into caramel by cooking it, or to cook something containing sugar slowly until it becomes brown and sweet. It is not, however, simply a synonym for “brown.” And anybody who has ever opened a textbook at a culinary school should know that.

For example, here is a quote from Cooking at Home, a book published by one of those culinary schools, the Culinary Institute of America: “The first step in many braises or stews is to brown the surface of the meat or poultry quickly in fat over high heat.” Later in the paragraph; “Brown the meat in batches without overcrowding.” Still more; “After the meat is browned, remove it from the pot and sauté a mixture of aromatics in the same fat.” “Brown” and “browned,” not “caramelize” and “caramelized.” Did you catch that, CIA graduate and rampant caramelizer Michael Symon?

The only way one can “caramelize” meat is if the meat has been glazed or coated in something containing sugar. Only then can the surface of the meat “caramelize.” Otherwise, it browns through the Maillard reaction. I refer to the well-respected Harold McGee, whose exhaustive work On Food and Cooking: The Science and Lore of the Kitchen is almost an industry Bible. On page 688, McGee states, “Caramelization is the cooking of plain sugar syrup until it turns brown and aromatic. It is similar to the browning or Maillard reactions that give color and aroma to roasted meats, baked goods, and other complex foods, but unlike the browning reactions it proceeds in the absence of amino acids and proteins. It requires higher temperatures than the browning reactions, and produces a different mixture of aromatic compounds and therefore a different flavor. Cooks have spoken of “caramelized” or “carmelized” meats for better than a century, but this is not really correct.”

Are you listening, Rachael Ray, Lidia Bastianich, and a host of other caramelizing TV cooks? Maybe this will bring home the point: On page 299 of his excellent book, What Einstein Kept Under His Hat, food scientist and former Washington Post food columnist, Robert L Wolke, writes: “Much confusion exists between Maillard browning and sugar browning or caramelization. Both a sugar molecule's carbonyl group and a protein molecule's amino group must be present if Maillard browning, also known as sugar-amine browning, is to take place. Heat accelerates the Maillard browning reactions, but they can take place at temperatures as low as 122° F (50°C). The reactions can even proceed slowly at room temperature, such as when foods turn brown from age. In contradistinction, the browning of pure sugar or other carbohydrates at temperatures higher than about 250°F (120°C) – in the absence of an amino acid or other nitrogen-containing compound – takes place by a completely different set of complex chemical reactions, called caramelization. Many chefs seem to love the word caramelize, and use it indiscriminately to describe any food that turns brown upon being cooked. But meat, poultry, fish, vegetables, and other protein-containing foods do not caramelize. They simply brown. Not as fancy a word, perhaps, but accurate.”

Let me reiterate that last line: “meat, poultry, fish, vegetables, and other protein-containing foods do not caramelize. They simply brown. Not as fancy a word, perhaps, but accurate.”

And therein lies the crux of the issue, the education beyond intelligence to which I alluded earlier. “Caramelization” is a “fancy” word. “Brown” is not. So in order to sound more erudite and brainy and perhaps more authoritative, TV cooks toss “caramelization” around at every turn of a spatula, even though by any and all standards it is quite incorrect. And once one TV cook starts doing it, they all jump on the bandwagon because nobody wants to sound dumber than the next guy. And that's how a perfectly legitimate cooking term becomes a meaningless buzzword.

I will promise you this: in 99% of professional kitchens, you will find chefs “browning” meat. They graduated from the same schools that some of the TV cooks attended, but they are not out there trying to impress people sitting in a studio or in front of a TV with their extensive vocabulary. I deliberately laid on some big words throughout this piece because I wanted to illustrate a great old philosophy that says, “If you can't dazzle 'em with brilliance, baffle 'em with bullshit.” And that's just what many of these TV cooks are trying to do. You're just a little ignorant home cook. You should be impressed by them because they “caramelize,” while you merely “brown.” Don't be intimidated. Just because you don't make duck confit as a regular thing doesn't mean you are any less than the TV whiz kids. When it comes down to it, we're all just cooks. “Chef” and “star” have become almost meaningless. And if you need proof, just look at any of the "chefs" competing on “Food Network Star.”

You just keep on browning, home cooks. Brown long, brown loud, and brown proud! Because you're entirely right and those caramelizing kooks on the boob tube are completely wrong.

Thursday, June 4, 2015

The Next Food Network Stars Could Be Chimps

Chimps Can Cook! Get Brooke Johnson On The Line!

Food Network has become such a trite, boring, uncreative, repetitive, derivative shadow of its former self that I have long since given up hope on a network that was once my “go to” source for food information and entertainment. There are exactly two shows left on Food that I still follow and “Food Network Star” is not one of them. I'm not even bothering to look in on a show that is in its 11th season and has not produced a “star” since Season 2. Hell, the “winners” of two of the last three seasons didn't even get their own shows. These are “stars”?

But there's a bright glimmer on the horizon. Chimps. That's right. Chimpanzees.

Research out of Harvard has revealed that chimps have the cognitive ability to cook. Apparently, our primate cousins even prefer the taste and texture of cooked food over raw and are willing to wait for it. In a series of experiments at the Jane Goodall Institute's Tchimpounga Chimpanzee Sanctuary in the Democratic Republic of Congo, wild-born chimpanzees were given the opportunity to prepare food using a “cooking device.” It wasn't really a “cooking device,” of course. It was actually two plastic tubs that fit closely together with pre-cooked food hidden in the bottom tub. But the chimps didn't know that. When a chimpanzee placed a raw sweet potato slice into the “device,” a researcher shook it, then lifted the top tub out to offer the chimp an identical cooked slice of sweet potato. The chimps resisted eating raw food and put it in the “device,” waiting for cooked food. They would store up raw food and bring it from one side of a cage to the other in order to put it in the “device.” And they put different kinds of food – like carrots – into the “device.” Subjects were given a potato and a piece of wood at the same time. They only chose to put the potato into the “cooker.” Researchers say the experiments show not only that chimps have the patience for cooking, but that they have the “minimal causal understanding they would need” to make the leap to actual cooking.

OMG! Somebody call Brooke Johnson! I think there's an opportunity for Food Network to ride a real ratings rocket here. Call it “Iron Chimp: America.” Alton Brown could provide witty commentary as teams of chimpanzees scurry around Kitchen Stadium shaking plastic bowls. The chimps would then present their creations to a panel of celebrity judges comprised of winners of past “Food Network Star” shows (at least it would give them something to do) who would then decide on a champion. It's gold, I tell ya! And it would be infinitely more entertaining than anything currently airing on Food Network. Cheaper, too. All Scripps would have to shell out would be a few bucks for plastic bowls and some slices of potato. And maybe some cute chef coats for the competitors. Bob Tuschman? Are you listening?

Oh, and they could amp it up by giving the chimps food-related names. Remember the first chimp in space? His name was “Ham.” And maybe Susie Fogelson could work a marketing tie-in with Animal Planet. I'm sure the makers of “Gorilla Glue” would jump aboard for a sponsorship. And it goes without saying that when the next “Planet of the Apes” movie comes out.......

And the cross-over possibilities are endless. Think “Chopped: Chimps” or “Restaurant: Chimp Possible.”

Oh, PETA would probably protest the exploitation of the chimps and would want to oversee their working conditions. But that's okay. Publicity like that drives ratings. And the network would likely catch flak from hundreds of line cooks working under similar circumstances in restaurants all across the country wondering why they couldn't compete, too. But, hey. That's show biz.

Of course, if it all fell flat,  Ken Lowe and the Food Network gang would look like a bunch of monkeys, but no more so than they already do.

Cooking shows with chimps. Gold, I tell ya. And remember, you heard it here first.