MediaWorks TV are now on the lookout for contestants for a rebooted MasterChef New Zealand.
I can’t for the life of me work out whether food in this country is being eaten or worshipped. I recommend the eating part as it is a proven way to survive death.
What is it about food and food shows? Why do I even spend an estimated 40-600 hours a year watching cooking competitions?
Back in Form 2, we used to do a subject called Home Economics. It was like a crude early form of MasterChef, without the Skoda.
We’d enter the room, and the teacher would have spent 16 hours of her free time setting up whisks, stainless steel bowls, and two eggs.
It was surgical.
Like automatons, we’d roll into our stations. Today, it would be a chocolate log. Samantha, the tall pretty one, always cooked the best. She was a hit with the boys and this made it all the more likely that would continue.
We would manage to get our wet mixtures just right but then all hell broke loose when Sam tripped and tipped her mixture all over the floor. None of us laughed inside.
We all tried to undercook our logs in sympathy and then: the rolling. If your log split, you were fucked, and out of the competition.
The teacher would sneak out the back door for a stress fag (it was 1982) and we’d begin the 1/2 hour task of Jiffing the benches.
Our logs laid bare, we were finished; emotionally, spiritually and mentally.
There was no greater and more exhilarating experience than Home Economics.
Who will judge MasterChef New Zealand 2015?
Here is a tag cloud of possibilities: