Pasta la vista, baby
Masterchef somehow turns an egg-whisking contest into riveting drama, writes Rebecca Davis
ONE of the notable successes of TV cooking shows over the past 15 years or so has been to take what was once absurdly stigmatised as a “womanly” pursuit and brand it as something perfectly acceptable for men to take an interest in.
Indeed, the scales have even tipped slightly in the opposite direction. The TV shows of celebrity chefs such as Gordon Ramsay and Anthony Bourdain have infused the culinary arts with a dash of hyper-machismo. Suddenly it’s no longer about wifey in the kitchen getting a hot meal on the table for her man. Chicks, move over: when the dudes get involved, cooking is all sex, drugs and rock ’n’ roll.
Women are still often seen as “cooks” while men are “chefs”. Despite the success of female contestants on competitive cooking TV shows like Masterchef , it’s notable that all three judges in both the South African and the Australian Masterchef are men. For heaven’s sake, you can’t claim you can’t find one woman in both these great lands capable of being judgey about food. To many of us of a female disposition, it comes as naturally as breathing.
Still, the male judges on Australian Masterchef — currently being broadcast on M-Net — aren’t anything like Ramsay. They’re cut from much softer cloth. Food critic Matt Preston insists on wearing a cravat. Ramsay would probably cut your face with a broken bottle if you suggested he wore a cravat. Neither do the judges swear. In fact, pretty much the most cutting thing you’ll hear anyone say on Australian Masterchef is: “It’s just not cooked through, I’m afraid.”
In the Masterchef universe, once you’ve been told that, you might as well stick your head in an oven. You’re tickets, mate.
Where Masterchef succeeds is in making you believe, even momentarily, that this stuff really matters. If you had to tell an alien from another galaxy that there could be genuine drama and suspense in watching 20 strangers whisk egg whites at great speed, well, they’d probably go ahead and invade Earth immediately. They’d think we were pushovers. “This species makes competition out of meringues,” they’d scoff from the control room at Alien HQ. “Bring out the death ray.”
But as anyone who’s watched Masterchef can attest, this stuff is intense: part Ready Steady Cook, part Roman Colosseum. In a recent episode of the fifth series, two teams were required to go out to sea, trawl fishing nets for edible produce, return to land and produce a feast for 50 grizzled Aussie fishermen — all in the space of about five minutes.
In such pressured circumstances, tensions inevitably arise. Two ferociously determined female captains lay down the law for their teams about what they would prepare, and how. There were small but powerful acts of rebellion. “I’m gonna cook the hell out of that shrimp, whether she likes it or not,” contestant Vern grimly told the camera. Can you imagine many other contexts in life in which that line would spell manly defiance?
Australians are so passionate about their Masterchef that in 2010 a televised debate between then prime minister Julia Gillard and opposition leader Tony Abbott had to be shifted, rather than go up against the Masterchef season finale. They knew that more than four times the number of people would watch Masterchef than tune in to the debate. Gillard said she understood public fascination with the show — although in her house, her boyfriend does most of the cooking.
Masterchef Australia screens on Wednesdays on M-Net at 18h30.