Thursday, February 18, 2010


Recently I find myself talking about cooking as though it were a spectator sport. I'll have forgotten two ingredients for a curry dinner but only remember at the last minute. I come up with a pie that is equally satisfying, if not better, and after dinner I'll go to Josh 'That was a good save, wasn't it?' and he'll go 'Yeah, it was an awesome save!". I'll bake the chicken for quesadillas instead of pan-frying it to save the pan from two rounds of washing and I'll call it a 'brilliant move'. I'll applaud Josh's rare displays of excellent knife work on some fish and congratulate him on wonderful skills. Conversely when he tips ingredients into the pot in the wrong order I'll scream 'What are you doing? Arrrghhh!' and clutch my hair and jump up and down. I could be watching a terribly exciting football match for all you know. Should I now address a delicious and deeply skilled dinner as a 'goal'?
Now can I blame the ever increasing popularity of food media?; Masterchef, the lesser and even more appallingly scripted My Kitchen Rules taking up excessive amounts of air time and SBS seems unable to get re-runs of Japanese Iron Chef (please don't show the American version ever again. EVER.) off Saturday nights.
Or is it just because I have no life?

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