Mona Lisa Probably Would Have Enjoyed Beef Wellington: Cooking Shows and Art

MasterChef judges: Grumpy, Bipolar Bloak, and Obligatory "Nice" Judge

It’s no secret that summer provides a dearth of quality material for TV and movie fans. Save some exceptions (Breaking Bad season 4 premiered; if you’re not watching this show, continue not watching it because it gives me a reason to feel superior to you), summer blows. I’ve spent time in recent posts discussing bad film, so today I want to focus a little on summer TV, TV that is generally dominated by reality programming (well, so is the fall schedule, but just go with me).

Unless you want to watch re-runs of Fat White People Doing White People Things (some people call it Mike & Molly), you’re only TV choice is reality TV. My summer vice the last 2 years has been the Gordon Ramsay vehicle, MasterChef. FOX’s lead-in for this program is another more Ramsay-centric vehicle, Hell’s Kitchen. Though I have watched Hell’s before, the act of Ramsay yelling at people became more tired and contrived each season.

In MasterChef, Ramsay is significantly more subdued. Rather than playing the tyrant archetype that he does in Hell’s, MasterChef presents coiffed-haired Ramsay as a Brit who loves food but wanted something more than bangers and mash as a child. He is often compassionate and routinely encourages eliminated contestants to continue cooking. His role on MasterChef only serves to undermine his barbaric role on Hell’s Kitchen, underscoring the idea that Ramsay does have a heart after all. Some Ramsay irritation is funny, and MasterChef usually does an exemplary job of depicting their star as helpful mentor that only ventures into pissed off Scot when a contestant deserves it or the episode has hit an extended lull. As a result, MasterChef seems more serious or legitimate than its higher-rated counterpart (According to TVbythenumbers.com, Hell’s Kitchen scored first place for the 8:00 time slot yesterday with 5.77 million viewers while MasterChef came in 2^nd in the 9:00 time slot with 5.35 million viewers, well behind America’s Got Talent. The more I watch America’s Got Talent, the more I think the show’s title should include a question mark; also, when I think of experts at evaluating talent, I think of Howie “I’m Talented Because I Used To Tell Hot Women To Open Briefcases In Prime Time” Mandel and Sharon Osbourne.).

The rise of reality food competitions has fascinated me for some time. One possibility is that my culinary expertise begins and ends with grilled cheese. Want me to use truffles with a dish? Then you’re getting piece of Lindors on a hot fudge sundae.

But the thing I find more curious with these shows is that they display a world most viewers will never realize. The contestants aren’t cooking pot roast or lasagna. Ingredients often include ingredients I’ve never heard of and I presume millions of other viewers haven’t either. And while I’ve heard of ginger, the extent of knowledge with ginger is limited to Canada Dry.

Additionally, cooking shows are more or less impossible for home viewers to judge. True, we can judge plating, but that’s only a small fraction of a dish’s importance. For food, taste is everything. Even if something doesn’t look visually appealing, it could be the most magnificent tasting dish ever created. And really, only the 3 judges will know how they taste. They can do their best to describe how “velvety” or “sensuous” a dish is, but those are simply adjectives used more to give the judges credibility than it is to relay to the audience the food’s quality. For the weak palated, velvety is a high class synonym for “good.”  

With American Idol and Dancing with the Stars, most people can infer whether the person singing or dancing did a good job. Even if you’re not a singing expert (I certainly am not), I can at least make a fairly educated decision as to who the superior performer is. With cooking shows, it’s a stab on the dark. We rely on sign posts like a judge’s facial expression, musical crescendos, and a contestant’s level of calm or confusion.

So I guess the question I’m getting at in a very roundabout way is simply…why? Why does MasterChef routinely accrue over 5 million viewers (in the black hole that is summer network TV no less)? Why is the Food Network no longer solely for lonely house wives? Why are Bobby Flay and Tom Colicchio and Gordon Ramsay not just respected chefs, but borderline A-List celebrities?

My theory is that cooking gives the audience what they perceive an ascertainable creative entry into high class art. The merits of food as art are certainly debatable, but for terms of discussion in this post, I’m on the assumption that in the proper setting, food is art. MasterChef thinks food is art. After all, part of the judging is based on the appeal of plating, and there is something to be said for the ability to create a tasty concoction on the fly. All the challenges on the show require contestants to, in usually an hour, make a dish with ingredients they may or may not have used before. It takes a specific creativity I lack.

However, cooking seems less of an innate skill than other forms of art, or at least that is an easy perception to make.  To a viewer, culinary art is nothing more than following a recipe. A little of this, and a little of that, and BAM!, you’re Wolfgang Puck. This is ignoring the fact that many great chefs go to culinary school and possess palates that can discern every ingredient in a soup. No amount of overused onomatopoeia can hide these realities. But people don’t see those realities, they only see what MasterChef presents to them, that being people heating up a bunch of ingredients in a pan and putting it on a plate.

With painting, people that are unable always scoff at the idea of painting. We’d be lucky to visit the Sistine Chapel, let alone paint God giving life to Adam on the ceiling, the visionary scope of which only a select few geniuses can even imagine.

Many feel the same way with singing (some should probably get that feeling more often) and filmmaking. For some, even coherent writing is a luxury reserved for the educated elite (especially snarky bloggers that like to poke fun at Shia LaBeouf and Diablo Cody). They are art forms whose production seems other worldly and thereby impossible to attain. And we’re ok with that. Even if I consider myself a reasonably good writer, I’m hyper-aware that guys like James Joyce and Phillip Roth are laughably more talented than me. Yet, it doesn’t bother me because those guys are in a rarified class that only a select few join.

Ok, but can he make corn beef and cabbage?

But cooking? Cooking is what our parents did every day when growing up (unless you’re Gilbert Grape). Cooking is so pervasive in our culture that all intimidation has worn off. We aren’t as impressed with Gordon Ramsay as we are with Martin Scorsese and Aretha Franklin because his art is the same thing our mom did daily, at least when we use the term “cooking” in its simplest form.

Reality cooking shows have gained popularity because they give us entry to the base level of the lifestyles of the rich, famous, and artistically talented. We might never party with Justin Timberlake, but we at least have the belief that we might be able to one day eat like him. Or if we want to accept the MasterChef allusion, maybe one day cook for him.

The Chuck

When you’re a kid, there are few places more awesome than Chuck E. Cheese. The only thing that may surpass it is Disneyland, but even then, as a kid, I preferred to hang out with Mr. Cheese and friends. Nothing beats the combination of video games, unhealthy food, free sugar refills, and prizes which aren’t really prizes since you indirectly paid for them.

Having gone to a Chuck E. Cheese twice fairly recently for a kid’s birthday, the magic has obviously worn off. The place reeks of Pine Sol and stale tears. The games suck. Even the pizza, which I revered as a kid, now tastes like cardboard. And it got me thinking: maybe kids have outgrown Chuck E. Cheese. Yes, it’s obviously a kid’s place, but kids now are more sophisticated than 15 years ago. They aren’t satisfied that you can shoot into a basketball hoop for tickets (but wait! It can also move forwards and backwards! What fun!), tickets that will go to some piece of crap plastic whistle or, if they’re really lucky, a lava lamp. Kids now want video games and software for their computers and Apple money so they can buy apps on their IPads. Given how quickly kids seem to be growing up now, don’t be surprised if corn cobs pipes are included in future Happy Meals.

So, if the kids no longer appreciate Chuck E. Cheese, why not give it back to the young adults? The very one’s that grew up incessantly bothering their parents to take them to Chuck E. Cheese. My idea is to create a 21 and over club atmosphere based on Chuck E. Cheese, known simply as The Chuck.

My idea differs from Dave & Buster’s because D&B obviously wants to be different from Chuck E. Cheese. I don’t. I want to adopt all Chuck E. Cheese elements and put an adult spin on them with some minor tweaks. After all, Chuck E. Cheese is more club-ready than you probably realize.

Entrance

If you remember, Chuck E. Cheese already has a velvet rope upon entrance. This was to ensure that families would have a unique hand stamp so that upon exiting, children would leave with their parents and not be abducted by some weirdo (because, you know, it’s so much safer to be with your parents, as one recent verdict proved).

In The Chuck, I’m doing away with the hand stamps. Instead, patrons (if lucky enough to be on the list) will receive glow necklaces, with certain colors denoting how “available” they are. Blue means “Not Interested” because, as all female stand up comedians will attest, it’s annoying being hit on in clubs. Plus, this will prevent these “Not Interested” people from getting free drinks from sucker guys. See, I’m helping everyone.

Green necklaces can mean something like “It’s In Play, But You Gotta Work For It.” Red means you’re ready to go. By default, all male patrons receive red necklaces because no dude, if they’re being honest, wants to go to a club just to hang out or dance. They are on a primal mission. The necklaces could expedite the process.

Food

Trying to hook up can be a tiring venture (says the guy with less game than a 2011 Derek Jeter), to refuel, food is necessary. And yes, pizza is still on the menu. As is standard Chuck procedure, the now-bar is located immediately upon entrance. Here, patrons can order exotic thin crust pizzas. The Chuck will wisely add words to the pizza’s description like “basil,” “prosciutto,” and “margherita” so as to inflate prices. For dessert, patrons can purchase vodka infused cotton candy (I actually just made this up, but it sounds delicious; if it exists, I must find it*).

*7/11/2011 update: I was informed that this does exist. At AnQi Bistro in Costa Mesa, they serve a cocktail mixture of grapefruit juice, orange juice, vodka, and tequila, poured over a piece of pink cotton candy, called a Lotus. Or as the local "Real Housewives of OC" would call it, breakfast.

As far as booze, The Chuck will have an extensive bottled and draught beer selection. I would prefer to not have any cheap domestic beer, but since Bros will inevitably invade the club, they will need to keep hydrated with Bud Light (which reminds me, there will be a special Bro Menu; for a nominal fee, Bros can order a combo of cigarettes, Monster, and GED certificate of completion). Other than beer and the traditional drinks one can find at any bar, the Featured Drinks will be Suicide-infused. What I mean by this is that margaritas and other mixed drinks (for a small mark up) will feature every soda from the fountain, i.e. “suicide” (don’t pretend like you didn’t do this as a kid; one of the saddest days of my life was when Chuck E. Cheese stopped offering Surge).

Staff

Rather than having some doofus wearing a giant mouse costume or a purple Grimace-rip off, the staff will include scantily clad women (and men…I guess) known as the Mice. Think of it as the Playboy Bunnies, except the Mice won’t have annoying laughs and become famous for being “in love” with some 80 year-old that pretty much keeps Viagra in business by himself. As for the men on the staff…well this is my fantasy and I can exclude them. If you want to buy your own franchise and employ men on the staff, have at it.

Games

Skee-ball is out, mostly because I’m trying to not make an inappropriate joke by adding one letter. You know Whack-a-mole? Well try your hand at Whack-a-bro (it should be noted that the developers of this game also created a House of the Dead type game where the gamer walks around a club and shoots all the 50-year-old men wearing Ed Hardy shirts)! Another must arcade game is Michael Jackson’s Moonwalker, a real game from the late 80s in which you play as MJ and walk around rescuing children (I’m not making this up) and killing the bad guys through dance; also in the game is Bubbles, MJ’s famous pet chimp, who appears in each level and provides a power up if you catch him (seriously, I’m not making this up). This game has no relevant purpose to The Chuck, but it’s hilarious and would reflect on the childlike whimsy of Chuck E. Cheese.

I also have a version of the basketball game, called LeBron James 4^th Quarter Corner, where you earn 30 points for missing shots and 150 points if you don’t shoot the ball at all. Air Hockey is replaced by a beer pong table (reserved by the Bros until the end of time). I’m also getting rid of the racing games in lieu of Mel Gibson’s DUI Prix. The winner of the race s whoever can most successfully get pulled over and verbally assault a police officer. Bonus points are awarded if you are able to run Kiefer Sutherland off the road.

Obstacle Course

Ball pit is out, Jacuzzi is in. May as well, since both are equally unsanitary. However, the tubes stay. Since The Chuck is destined to become an international hit, many celebs will try to crash the party. The tubes are more for functionality than recreation though. Whenever annoying reality TV stars like the Kardashians or cast of the Jersey Shore show up to The Chuck, the bouncers will escort them to the tubes, where they will more than likely get lost and be unable to find their way out.

Entertainment

Just like Chuck E. Cheese, there will be a separate room that features live music. The middle tables will be replaced with a dance floor and booths will surround the perimeter of the room, reserved only for those interested in bottle service. The music will vary. Some nights will feature rock-based groups while other nights may be more hip hop infused. Prestige is important to The Chuck, so only premium talent will be chosen to perform. Sorry Lil Wayne. Ideally, the show will start around 10pm, which gives plenty of time for the room to get a true feel of other LA-based venues, that being it will be so crowded you can’t pull out your cell phone without bumping into someone’s drink. The Chuck knows how to put on a show, so they will also make sure to turn the heat on so you get a good lather going. What’s that, you want obnoxiously loud music like other clubs? You mean you actually don’t want to communicate like a reasonable person for the next 3 hours because you can’t speak to someone 2 inches away, not that it would matter since you have probably developed a slight case of deafness? And you only want the main act to play two songs and play them very half-ass? Well at The Chuck, they got all that covered! Also, to enhance the show’s full sensory enjoyment, The Chuck has hired hard rock band Great White to oversee all pyrotechnic operations.

Prizes

Like Chuck E. Cheese, the last thing most patrons will do before exiting into the night is collecting their prizes. And, also like Chuck E. Cheese, the prizes are generally worth the time of standing in line. Patrons can turn in their tickets for a variety of prizes. If you are unable to win any prizes, don’t worry, there is a handful of free options, including a Blu-Ray box set of all of Katherine Heigl’s movies and a first generation Motorola Droid (seriously, mine sucks now, anyone want it?). Starting on the bottom level, for one ticket, you will get 4 tickets to an upcoming LA Dodger game. For 5 tickets, you receive a card with Matt Kemp’s sullen face on it, which requests that for only 5 cents a day, you can help pay his salary. After working your way through the higher levels with some BLOAQ stock and trips to Omaha, you start to get to the good stuff. For 1,000,000,0000,000,000 tickets, you inherit Oprah’s fortune (unfortunately, you also inherit her superiority complex).

And the most expensive item at the prize booth? Nostalgia. For an untold sum, a staff member of The Chuck will, for 8 hours, teleport you back to when you were 10 and you get to run rampant through Chuck E. Cheese as you remember it, before the smell of vomit bothered you and before you had a concept of money and before you developed a taste for superior pizza. For as awesome as The Chuck will be, it won’t be able to compare to your memories of Chuck E. Cheese, memories that with maturation are impossible to recreate. For 8 hours, you get to enjoy the place where a kid can be a kid.