Masterchef!!

Masterchef is back!
Dance of joy!! Happiness abounds!!
I've missed 4 episodes, that's how happy I am!!

Doh. I must get round to watching TV roughly when things are actually on. Iplayer has saved me and so I can catch up; one episode caught, three to go. Series link now set. Phe-yew.

Watching Masterchef brings out my inner chef. So much so that I have previously filled in an application to be on it - at the wrong time. Confusion arose as to the start of this series as last week I was invited to apply for the next series. Which I haven't because, well, what was I thinking?

Being on TV is pretty much the last thing I'd ever want to do - I don't even like having my photo taken, and I wouldn't actually want to be a professional chef. Hideous hours and immense hard work. No, I'd like to cook in a posh kitchen with posh ingredients for people who appreciated it - for fun. As a career, well, making lunches would be nice but possibly not exactly richmaking.

So why apply? It's a daydream. I have my Masterchef style menus planned in my head, and as I cook I imagine John and Greg asking me questions and my wondrously witty responses.i have perfected my canapé choices, and know exactly what I'd cook with certain mystery ingredients. My head is full of rehearsed snippets of "why I want to win Masterchef", none of which are true.

Then naturally, TV reviewers would be charmed by my marvellousness and I'd be able to read how great/lovely/talented I am.

Ahem. Yes. More vanity.

Not remotely in the real world because in the real world it would be me, the me that is terrified of speaking in front of a lecture theatre. Not the me in my head that does the perpetual imaginary cookery show in my kitchen.

So. Watching it on TV and having ridiculous flights of fancy is as good as it gets.

It has flaws. India Fisher is one, her narration is efficient but annoying. John Torode is another, he has single handedly undone any love for Australian accents with his nasal drone, and the way he tastes food as if he was capturing it off the spoon make me want to throw things.

But what he says is brilliant and despite the aforementioned, I love him. Greg Wallace is the good guy, he's the voice of niceness and positivity and is adorable when presented with a pudding.


I love Masterchef. I love it being on. There is something deliciously decadent about watching glorious food being prepared. I copy ideas and every single time they say something is hard to make, assuming it's something I eat, I have to try making it. Oh, chocolate fondants don't work, huh? MINE do. Scallops not cooked properly? MINE are divine.

Masterchef season is show off in the kitchen time.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to lie back and watch episode 2 on my phone - oh yes - before it disappears forever.

Something interesting and not me me tomorrow, promise.