I am a food porn addict

I have to stop my obsession with cooking shows on television. I recently subscribed to that nonsense of paying for television just so I could have my food porn. I blame Matt Preston, as I do for a number of things, and Pete Evans, who I can never be cross at. (Must remind him he is taking me fishing).

Food porn is an interesting thing – people find me a little odd, given that I can happily watch Nigella massage a headless dead featherless chicken near to orgasm, that Jamie can lift my skirt just from the fact that he will cook something a bit offally, and every time Heston Blumenthal comes on to the box, I am stiff in the undies.

My obsession for food porn needs to be dealt with and I am off to my FP group. Hello, my name is Pete and I am a food porn addict.

It is funny using food and porn in the same sentence, given the orgy of indulgence that was Easter. People munching chocolate until their faces and leggings expanded beyond belief, and others pretending that they don’t care for Easter but are secreting away bilbys and Lindt rabbits to eat when the other half is at work or on the loo.

There is a point... Masterchef 2 is about to begin on the box. 50 hopeful Julie Goodwins, or Poh Ling Yeows are lining up to see if they, as ever the bridesmaids must in reality TV, win the second series. (2 lindt bunnies to anyone who remembers the winners of Big Brother 2 or the Biggest Loser 2). Not enough guts to enter the first one, but seeing the success of those contestants from series 1 has allowed them to gather the gumption to have a go now. Good for them and C list celebrity invites I say.

There will be 14 Vics and 14 NSW’s among the many and no doubt, the rivalry will continue through this series. My money is on a young male Victorian (the antithesis of last years winner.)

Entries have been called for Junior Masterchef, and of course we saw super sexy swimmer Eamon Sullivan take home the gong for the celebrity show last year. All I need now is Masterchef up late, Masterchef uncut and Masterchef Survivor. That should cure my aforementioned addiction to food porn.

I was a recent viewer of My Kitchen Rules. I was blogging for a while, annoyed at the sniping queen from Adelaide, loving eventual winners, Veronica and Shadi, and mourning that the title wasn’t taken by Victorians - are they/are they not Clint and Noah. The title should have gone to a Vic couple as we simply have the best food in the world – parochial much?

What did annoy me is that Pete Evans became a sanitised version of himself, and Manu, whilst shedding pounds by the dozen, was allowed to shine. Stand by for the book, the inevitable advertising of paper towels and perhaps a mixed tape not unlike Mr Prestons offering following Masterchef 1.

Matt is up for a Logie award in a few weeks and so is the show. I think this says something about a need for good food on the television to keep us from all becoming fat bastards. The Biggest Loser is there to help we over indulgent once we have cooked and eaten everything in sight. Masterchef is there to inspire us to cook well, and with fresh seasonal produce and it has done that. It broke all sorts of ratings records and has boys and girls cooking croquembouche and ceviche when they could never as much as spelled them.

I love that there is food porn on the tele – I love that Heston and Nigella and Jamie and all of those cooking types are inspiring people to cook and eat, and I love that the bar is being set higher and higher every time I go to some one else’s house to dine.

My name is Pete and I am a food porn addict ...... and I am more than happy to remain so.

My Kitchen Rules - again. Really?

Pete Evans and Manu Fieldel – you are so saving My Kitchen Rules for me with all of that lovely pervy goodness... but I digress.

Two Queensland girls who really should be cooking in a child care centre – sorry it sounds harsh but what were they thinking. Entree of a tasting plate – it looked good and I think I could almost smell it. I am loathe to make this comment but what the hell is with the frangipani overload? Please someone remind them that less is more before I throw up!

The entree did really look good and I would have inhaled it – four types of fresh seafood – all nicely prepared and kept with the essence of the seafood leading and everything else dancing in time. I think they did okay there but am over those bitchy South Australians and their caustic comments. Rude people, rude!

The lamb looked like it was in the oven for ever and then thrown from the other side of the room onto the plate. I think a simple sauce or jus might have helped soak up some of that rice – a few slow roasted cherry tomatoes just will not cut it ladies. Think about flavour and texture combinations next time.

Dessert was a disaster and for them to have been scored a 7 by each judge is a travesty of diabolical proportions – Pete and Manu – it had split!!! Rule number 1 with a gelatinised dessert – don’t let the bugger split! You can dress up a something but if it is not right, it is still a bloody something. A slurp of fresh fruit and a dollop of sabayon do not a dessert make.

Back to the bitchy South Australians again. They are so nasty I almost like them and god only knows what the hell sort of theatre restaurant event they are going to try and pull off with their ‘themed’ dinner parties. Looking at both of them, Witches in Britches comes to mind.

Tomorrow night I am waiting for that awful man from WA to cock up – the forward promos show that he is clearly going to lose the plot and with the snide comments made to his partner tonight, I reckon he looks like a complete asshole. I doubt I will be dissuaded on that idea tomorrow night.

This is still lightweight television really and I am looking forward to this first round being over so we might see some real challenges and less bloody ordinary suburban food. Pray that it happens sooner rather than later please.

I need a lie down – and a banana paddle pop.

If Seven really wants to get this right and challenge Master Chef, I hope like stink that they will get it right soon before I am tempted to hurt myself whilst watching it.