When I was a kid I loved watching the few cooking shows available at the time like Graham Kerr, Jacques Pepin, and of course Julia Child. I especially liked Julia because my mom had her cookbooks and I grew up looking through them (wishing for photographs) and making things from them once in awhile. My favorite item that I still seek out today is a gateau, the simplest most wonderful cake on earth. With Julia's recipe I killed my 7th grade French classes' buche de noel contest and having seen her make one on tv had really helped. The best episode is her birthday episode where she proceeds to get wasted on cherry kirsch, "because it's my birthday," she slurred and took a wet slug from the bottle. Or, am I making it all up? When I was young any level of drunk in an adult seemed scandalizing and exciting. Either way I loved her more and my intrigue and nostalgia for her continues. As a kid my experience of watching Julia and the others did not match the intensity of going to a restaurant and eating. My family rarely ate out and it was very special to me. Hearing plates slamming together from afar and catching glimpses as the kitchen door swung open to reveal a very different room than the one I was seated in filled me with curiosity.
|ye olde spraying from afar trick|
|"...if you think this is big wait til you see my dick..."|
1) Emergency room surgeon in a dirty hospital
3) interrogation & torture
4) non-sexual dominatrix dressed in a dirty t shirt who hurts you so bad you change your mind and give up S/M.
5) Revenge consultation- come tell me your beef and I will give you a fitting solution (usually fish saucing car hood vents).
6) War- but then I think, "shut up, you don't know what war is really like!"
The point is that it doesn't go away- and recognizing this in the faces of your kitchen peers or heroes is indescribably comforting and inspiring. You will not see this on the flaccid Food Network (unless Iron Chef America is still on). Sure, seeing anybody do anything obsessively and well is very pleasing indeed- but if it's accompanied by misery, a certain feverish paleness around the eye socket and the smell of biology class formaldehyde, ashes, and rebluchon then those people ought to be followed around by a camera crew and put on a continuous live stream for the world to see.