Make no bones about it, I am a self-confessed Masterchef addict. We have no TV but I make sure that I prioritise Masterchef whenever I sit down with the iPlayer. I watch every version of the show. It is a compulsion. I watched the old Masterchef, the Loyd Grossman one in the 1990s, when amateur cooks produced dinner party style meals. I even prepared an application for that show, though never submitted it. I remember I was going to make a Craster Kipper pâté for the starter…
I love food. I love preparing it and sharing it and I love eating it – though prefer to eat food cooked for me rather than that which I have slaved two days over. For most of my life cooking was my main or only creative outlet.
Watching Masterchef today I was struck by a couple of almost random thoughts – one of which was that I wish cooking had been so much fun when I was younger and that we had such interesting ingredients then as we do now. What enjoyment I would have got out of my job as Cook at the manor house… it was huge fun as it was but what a joy it would be with all that can be had today, and with all the improved knowledge that I have now. It is the best thing as a cook, to be able to produce dishes from expensive ingredients without the worry of how to pay for them! To be able to go that extra mile because the budget will permit it… which is something that my current budget does not.
Yes, if I could have my life over again, I would no doubt repeat much of it but please, could I be born later – not into the grey and insipid world of the 1950’s. Could I please also escape the 70’s and the stuffed eggs and prawn cocktails and the Chinese restaurants serving Mixed Grill and Chips for the unconverted (yes, dear BiL, I am looking at you.)
What – the second thought? I was going to gloss over that but since you asked… is it wrong of me to fancy Michel Roux Jr?
I am not sure why I find him so hot, he’s not my physical type at all – far too stringy and uncomfortable. I think it may be something about that raptor-like intensity that captures my interest. Or maybe it is just because he is the deity of all things foody. How does he stay that thin anyway – it is downright unnatural for a cook. I reckon he must run about 15 miles a day. Me – I don’t think I could spare that much time away from my kitchen. I would get twitchy.