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Lump Queen
Jun. 1st, 2007 05:08 pmThe Food Network is my sports channel. My roommates back in Monterey used to come home to find me on the couch, drinking beer and yelling at some cooking host on the television. You call that folding? Vanilla goes in now, you fucking mongoloid. Oh, for God's sake, someone take that away and show him how it's done.
I have opinions about everything. Emeril is a loudmouth hack. Bobby Flay has one roasted piquillo card up his sleeve, and that's it. No one ever picks Iron Chef Masaharu Morimoto because he'll kick their candy asses all over the set and back home.
Gale Gand is the Lump Queen. Ever watch a cooking show where the host assumes you know what you're doing, or could just give a shit, and so their presentations are kind of half-assed? And they get by on the force of their personality or reputation? Yeah, me neither.
Gand hosts Sweet Dreams on the Food Network. It's become my drinking game. Take a shot if she misses the bowl. Take a shot every time she shows you how to pour water into a pan of sugar, and does that "make an 'X' with your finger" thing. Take a shot when she dumps hilariously lumpy batter into a baking pan. Drink the whole thing if what she takes out of the oven could not possibly have been what she put into it. (I'm waiting for the day she takes a frosted layer cake out of the oven.)
Her priorities are a mess. She'll spend an entire segment stirring a pan of boiling sugar, but the hard part of bringing the sugar to caramel and adding cream or whatever, is done over the commercial break. What did it look like, Gale? How do we know when it's ready, Gale?
Finally, while she's well shy of Rachael Ray's Non-Stop Supernova of Frantic Glee, it's clear that someone on the set is hissing for Gale to sparkle, Neeley, sparkle like her job depends on it. Possibly it does, but she can't be hurting for money, what with the success of Tru, her Chicago restaurant. I've seen Gand on other shows, judging contestants, or explaining a process, and she's all business with no game show host glad-handing. That's the Gale I want to see.
She's my guilty pleasure, along with mixing a margarita after John has gone to bed. Tru, and her other restaurants, must be amazing, for her to have landed this show. I bitch, and laugh, and throw things at the screen like a football fan after a bad call, but Gale taught me definitively that it's mascarpone, not marscapone, and for that alone she has my undying gratitude.
I have opinions about everything. Emeril is a loudmouth hack. Bobby Flay has one roasted piquillo card up his sleeve, and that's it. No one ever picks Iron Chef Masaharu Morimoto because he'll kick their candy asses all over the set and back home.
Gale Gand is the Lump Queen. Ever watch a cooking show where the host assumes you know what you're doing, or could just give a shit, and so their presentations are kind of half-assed? And they get by on the force of their personality or reputation? Yeah, me neither.
Gand hosts Sweet Dreams on the Food Network. It's become my drinking game. Take a shot if she misses the bowl. Take a shot every time she shows you how to pour water into a pan of sugar, and does that "make an 'X' with your finger" thing. Take a shot when she dumps hilariously lumpy batter into a baking pan. Drink the whole thing if what she takes out of the oven could not possibly have been what she put into it. (I'm waiting for the day she takes a frosted layer cake out of the oven.)
Her priorities are a mess. She'll spend an entire segment stirring a pan of boiling sugar, but the hard part of bringing the sugar to caramel and adding cream or whatever, is done over the commercial break. What did it look like, Gale? How do we know when it's ready, Gale?
Finally, while she's well shy of Rachael Ray's Non-Stop Supernova of Frantic Glee, it's clear that someone on the set is hissing for Gale to sparkle, Neeley, sparkle like her job depends on it. Possibly it does, but she can't be hurting for money, what with the success of Tru, her Chicago restaurant. I've seen Gand on other shows, judging contestants, or explaining a process, and she's all business with no game show host glad-handing. That's the Gale I want to see.
She's my guilty pleasure, along with mixing a margarita after John has gone to bed. Tru, and her other restaurants, must be amazing, for her to have landed this show. I bitch, and laugh, and throw things at the screen like a football fan after a bad call, but Gale taught me definitively that it's mascarpone, not marscapone, and for that alone she has my undying gratitude.
