An appetite for success
Debi Enker visits the reality series that claims to change lives.
The Cattle Pavilion at the Melbourne Showgrounds is alive with activity and buzzing with expectation. There’s a constant hum of excited chatter and regular eruptions of applause. It’s showtime, but not of the customary agricultural kind.
Today, this is the arena for 50 hopefuls to demonstrate their culinary skills in a quest to win one of the coveted aprons that signifies their acceptance into the final 24 contestants on the ninth season of Masterchef Australia. As the candidates use a pressurepacked hour to produce a signature dish, they’re surrounded by family, friends and partners cheering them on.
There are many reasons why people might apply to appear on a reality-tv show: maybe they want to build a media profile or promote a business; maybe they just like the attention. But when it comes to Masterchef, the explanations of motivations frequently turns to declarations of a love of food, as well as talk of dreams and unfulfilled passions, to the point that it’s become a cliche, although that doesn’t make it any less real.
People apply for this cooking contest hoping to change their lives. They want a job in the food industry: running a restaurant, training as a chef, developing a product line, writing a cookbook. They aim to turn an interest – oh, OK, a passion – into a primary focus. And, as the show’s promotions emphasise, it’s not an entirely fanciful aspiration. Unlike That Other Cooking Show, many Masterchef alumni have done exactly that and their post-show trajectories shine like beacons for the latest crop of aspirants.
People like Adam Liaw, Poh Ling Yeow and Justine Schofield with TV shows; Julie Goodwin and Hayden Quinn with cookbooks; Marion Grasby with a food range; Andre Ursini, Reynold Poernomo and Samira El Khafir with their restaurants. Corny as it might sound, for some, Masterchef has proved a life-changing experience.
But in order to pursue that goal, resolve must be summoned and sacrifices made. Those wishing to compete must be prepared to leave their family and friends, jobs and homes, maybe for six months, if things go well. If they do win that apron, they’ll enter a reality-tv pressure-cooker: living in a share house with other contestants and in an environment where all that matters is the next test and the response that their efforts elicit from judges Gary Mehigan, George Calombaris and Matt Preston.
Among those who have decided that they are up for the challenge is office worker Pia Gava, a 48-year-old mother of two from Victoria.
The fact that she’s making gnocchi in a gorgonzola sauce indicates that she’s gutsy as many contestants in seasons past have been eliminated after producing gnocchi dishes deemed to be rubbery. But this is a recipe that she learned as a child in the family kitchen and her dream is to publish a book of her mother’s traditional Italian recipes, accompanied by her own, modern twists.
It’s her third attempt at Masterchef selection and she says, ‘‘Before I sent off the application, I sat down with my family. My son will be in Year 12 and I had to say, ‘Look, I might not be here to support you and I won’t do this unless you are OK with me not being here’. They just said, ‘Are you crazy? You’ve helped us all the time, this is for you’.’’
At a neighbouring bench, 19-year-old Branden Khou is having his second shot at selection. One of 10 children, he has the biggest cheer squad as he prepares his glazed chocolate mousse with raspberry sorbet. If he makes it through, he’ll defer his business studies and hopes to open a dessert bar.
Thirty-two-year-old Ben Ungermann from Queensland quit his retail job as soon as he made it through the auditions. He moved in with his parents and initiated his own crash course, cooking three meals a day to expand his skill set and repertoire.
His dish, rainbow trout with stamppot, is intended as a tribute to his Dutch heritage. He wants to give that country’s cuisine a higher profile, rightly observing, ‘‘People don’t drive home and say, ‘Hey, let’s pick up some Dutch on the way’.’’
Ungermann wants to be a chef: ‘‘No matter what happens, after this, I want to go into the food industry.‘‘
Keen on Asian cuisine and making wontons in a spicy Sichuan oil, copywriter Karlie, 26, from NSW, sees Masterchef as ‘‘a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity: it could open so many doors’’.
Her aim is to combine her interests in food and writing, perhaps as a food critic. Cooking ‘‘since she was old enough to pick up a frypan’’, Karlie says: ‘‘You have to put everything on hold to get on to the show, put all your eggs in one basket. You hope that the people you work for understand why you’re doing this and want the best for you. It’s a difficult thing, to dive in head first and not be afraid. My partner, Adam, got me to this stage: I honestly would not be here without him.’’
In the noisy shed, as pots clatter, pans fry and blue bandaids are applied to injured fingers, the hopefuls range in age from teenagers, who have applied as soon as they’re old enough, to parents who have always loved to cook. There’s a nurse, a crane operator, a lawyer, students, office and retail workers.
As they wheel the trolleys holding their carefully conceived dishes into the neighbouring judges’ shed, nerves are tingling, hopes are high and dreams just could come true. -
Masterchef Australia begins 7.30pm, Tuesday, TVNZ1.