So, I may not be a domestic goddess by any stretch of the imagination (in fact, when it comes to culinary skill the children call me ‘Disasterchef’) but I am nonetheless undeterred from my favourite guilty pleasure: watching Masterchef. This dirty secret usually plays out behind a mountain of ironing and lasts until the wee small hours by which time I really could do with reaching into iPlayer to scoff on freshly baked macarons in a sea salt foam, or pan fried sea bream with pickled samphire and edible flowers. But, alas, I tend to find myself scraping the bottom of a 300g bag of floral gums or a full tube of extra salty Pringles.
My thoughts at this unreal hour of the day/night often turn to my own favourite alternative version of this magical show, which revolves around the idea of hosting a series that is based more on harsh reality than a larder full of delicious ingredients (and a modicum of catering talent). One in which I fulfil my domestic potential and render viewers speechless at my unrelenting invention and sheer wizardry with pesto.
But, actually, this is how I see “Masterchef: the Muthas” panning out…
Calling Card
I often think about this one – what would be my signature dish, given the time and materials to prepare something special? Unfortunately I fear my clever take on ‘cucumber three ways’ would never make it to a final, nor would my leftover chicken curry made without spices yet with a whole lot of Loyd Grossman’s (jar of) heart(s).
The Invention Test
Make an edible meal (in less than 15 minutes, for three starving and near-feral children) from a pot of marmite (12 months past its ‘eat by’ date), half a bag of novelty couscous, some gummy bears, a pound of sprouting potatoes, a pint of milk and – of course – a cucumber (because there’s always cucumber).
The Chef’s Table
Attempt to prepare a gourmet supper that will satisfy said feral offspring, composed entirely of an optimistic purchase of organic fruit and vegetables from local farmers’ market and a random choice of fish. The challenge here would not necessarily be to gain the wholehearted and flowery approbation of the judges but merely three halfway empty plates.
Professional Kitchen
Again, this one is less to do with flavour and taste and a whole lot more to do with simply surviving. And knowing what the f*** to do with decent ingredients, a recipe and tables packed with hungry under-age punters who would, frankly, prefer a MacDonalds.
Palate Test
This one’s easy – with your eyes closed, guessing what fruit/vegetable/ingredient the pulp in your mouth used to be. Before it cantered gaily past its ‘sell-by’ date, past its ‘hospitalisation-by’ date and unrelentingly onwards to its ‘death-by’ conclusion. Also works as a ‘guess the leftovers’ option.
The Critics
If you’ve ever attempted a double (or even triple) play date and sweated over the delicate balance between dishing out a crowd-pleaser vs a healthy-meal-you’re-happy-to-be-reported-back-to-friend’s-mummy (the former being wolfed at speed, the latter being pushed around the plate for hours – with groaning, excuses and laughter) – then you’ll be well equipped for this particular challenge.
Technical Challenge
How to fillet fish? How to cook a rack of lamb? How to make a reduction? No. How to avoid mass food poisoning. It’s that simple.
So, what do you reckon? Have I got the makings of addictive, supremely watchable TV? Will “Masterchef: The Muthas” charge up the TV ratings and take the world of reality/car crash telly by storm? Or is it simply a fantasy of my own making that is nothing more than a risible attempt to turn my own abject failings into something to be (dubiously) proud of? Hmmm. Yes, you’re right. Back to plan A… “Delia, How To Cook: Book One”. Cucumber wedges with a side of twiglets anyone?