So my BFF (in texting that translates to Best Friend Forever) forwarded an application to an audition for a new reality TV show with Chef Gordon Ramsay to be held in my home town called MasterChef. The casting headline reads: MASTER CHEF GORDON RAMSAY AND THE PRODUCERS OF THE BIGGEST LOSER ARE NOW CASTING AMATEUR CHEFS FOR A NEW INSPIRATIONAL COOKING SHOW!
We spent countless cell phone minutes debating and discussing the merits of what "I would plate" and more importantly "what I would wear" since my goal is to host a cooking cable television show. She politely reminded me that hopefully I would meet interesting people throughout the process and although the application asked if I could turn my life over to a Hollywood production crew for five weeks I probably wouldn't have to make that commitment today so I should fill out the application, wait in the cold and "plate my dish" for the production staff like the other 500 contestants. In completing the application, I once again needed her advice. "Several questions have came up that I'm not so sure I want to share with the rest of the world."
The questions started harmlessly enough:
What is your favorite cookbook? The Joy of Cooking
What cooking utensil can you not live without? (Figured that the psychologists reviewing my application wouldn't appreciate a perfectly sharpened carving knife, so I answered: tongs.)
What is the hardest cooking situation you have ever been in? Have you ever had a disaster in the kitchen? I once forgot the sugar when baking sugar cookies.
And then the questions got interesting.
"Okay so I don't take any prescription medication on a regular basis, I've never been convicted of a felony, have tattoos or have had plastic surgery. But, they are asking me to describe my most embarrassing moment or experience. Do I mention the time we went swimming in the community pool a few years ago after the concert and..."
"I'm not sure that's what they're looking for", my BFF confided, "and maybe they just want to be sure you're not crazy."
The application process was turning in to a part time job and our youngest couldn't find his basketball sneakers, our middle child was moaning about straight ironing her hair, and I was getting the "you never feed me routine" from our oldest.
I packed up the china plate, our wedding gift crystal candle stick holders, the main entree and thought of individuals that may be driving from Maine with their souffle in the back seat. I was going to be up against some serious prime time competition and asked myself if I was mentally prepared. And then I burst out laughing. What am I thinking! I'm no chef.
Thankfully the parking lot was full and overflowing. There was orange cones marking the entrance, and the line of contestants was long enough that I could gracefully concede that I couldn't possibly take that much time out of my Sunday. I made a mental note to tune in to the show and drove to my sister's house to wish her a happy birthday.
At 5:30ish I came home to an empty house hungry and decided to whip up a meal for myself since the others wouldn't be home until 6:00. They'll be eating the left overs that hadn't been discovered in Hollywood that day. I reheated "the chicken with sweet marjoram and basmati rice'' for our fourteen year old who commented, "this is the best you've made yet mom." My husband ate his unheated. And the two boys ate cold cut sandwiches.
I prepared and enjoyed a quiet candle light dinner on the unused china plate with a glass of Cabernet: Duck with apricot orange sauce &Cointreau, sauteed spinach with garlic & olive oil, served with a fresh french baguette. I'll post the recipes later. It's time to clean the kitchen and ...
p.s. My BFF talked me out of the mini skirt but I did have my hair highlighted
p.s.s. Still plan on hosting a local cable television cooking show.
1 comment:
Your BFF is just sorry that you made me respond to the question: "What would those who know you consider your worst quality?" in order to complete an application you never handed in. We could have gone silent on that one for another 10 years!
Post a Comment