Confessions of a food freak.
Those who have experienced my savory skillz first hand know me as the Snack Master. King of Condiments. The Minister of Pork. To be prepared for any situation, I carry a utility belt that is equipped with a fresh pepper mill, kosher salt, Old Bay seasoning, Parmesan cheese, chili powder, minced garlic, Dijon mustard and wasabi paste. If I were a rapper, they’d call me White Pepper. In fact, from now on I’d prefer that everyone call me White Pepper.
It’s not just the taste of food that I like, it’s also the way it looks. I will stare at the plates on people’s tables as I enter a restaurant in the hope that I spy something I might not have picked off the menu. I crane my neck to see what is on the trays that servers carry past me. Basically I will ogle food like some guys salivate over strippers. I read about food in newspapers, buy the occasional cooking magazine and think a cookbook with awesome pictures of food dishes is almost a good as looking at Penthouse. It’s not a fetish though, so there is no need to hide the mashed potatoes. It’s not that kind of party anyway.
I also watch an astronomical amount of the Food Network—so much that I see re-runs. Re-runs of re-runs. I’ve only had Food Network for the past 2 years, but have wished it was part of my cable package since the early 90s when I heard they had a show called Grillin’ & Chillin’. Grillin & Chillin’! That could be the title of my auto-biography.
They have over 50 different shows and I get sucked into more than one person should. You get to see other cities all over the country and their indigenous dishes, learn some killer recipes and pick up some cooking tips along the way. Besides, where else are you going to get to see up close the type of people who compete in a vermin cooking contest? I’m talking squirrel, possum, rabbit, ‘coon—the works. You can’t beat that with a rolling pin.
Rachel Ray is the host of two shows on the Food Network, 30 Minute Meals and $40 a Day. She was just featured on the cover of The Washington Post Food section, stars in a Burger King commercial, has 2000 people show up for her book signings and a girl I went out with told me that her step-father has a huge crush on Rachel Ray. Frankly, her enormous popularity surprises me a bit.
She was even asked to do a photo spread for FHM magazine, where she sexes up her down home, darn tootin’ image by wearing very little and licking a large spoon covered in chocolate, along with other allegedly provocative poses. It doesn’t really work. A temptress, she is not. At least not to me—comfort food pudgy, enthusiastically hokey with a touch of cute is a more like it. If you watch her shows, you’ll have to put up with a lot of big-smiley comments like, “I’m gonna get dessert rockin and rollin” or “gee willickers, you can really smell the lemon zest working it’s magic!” Despite having a loaded arsenal of cornball mannerisms and expressions, a lot of the menus she prepares look pretty damn tasty. I tried a variation of her recipe for a tuna burger and it would have turned out better if I hadn’t overcooked it.
Another show I catch a fair amount of is Everyday Italian, even though I’m not wild about a lot of the recipes featured. But the hostess, Giada De Laurentiis—yowza. Hmmm, how can I say this without using a shish-ka-bob reference? And don’t even bring up tossing salad because that’s just plain rude. But I can’t help it. I’d…um…like to fondue her. Sakes alive, she is scrumptious! Let’s move on before my banana does a split.
If I had a complaint it would be Giada’s over enunciating of the Italian pronunciation of words. Mozzarella becomes moootserrrrellllllllla and proscuitto morphs into prrrrrrrrotshootzo. It’s not that big a deal, except that despite her exotic name—I’d lay good money she was born and raised in America, so dialing down the faux accent couldn’t hurt.
She did, however, destroy the Unintentional Comedy Meter (copyright: Bill Simmons) during one of her episodes that I happened to catch with my friend Potatoes (it’s a nickname—his older brother is Meat). After making a risotto dish, she combined some of the leftovers with bread crumbs and rolled them up to be cooked in oil. Then, as the camera zoomed in, she looked earnestly into the lens and said with a warm smile, “After the break, I’m going to finish frying my balls…and then I’m going to EAT them!” Potatoes and I looked at each other to make sure we heard the same thing and then giggled uncontrollably like 8-year olds. It was like that Alec Baldwin “Shvetty Balls” skit on SNL come to life. Dear God, we could have pissed laughing. I’m glad I had a witness for that one to confirm just how preposterously funny that was.
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