Fresh Words Daily

It has hit New Zealand after many years in the UK.  The Master Chef programme on television.  All the hopeful cooks have lined up in fact queued way down the street in the hope that they would be the chosen one.  I have to ask WHY?  What is it about winning the title of master chef that is so seductive?  Is it merely a chance to be on TV to cry a little to hug the judges when they give you a pinny.  Gosh my mother used to make masses of them for the Presbyterian Church Bring and Buys – florals with matching plain bindings.  Works of art really.  But maybe it isn’t for the apron because every contestant talks about their passion for food, their passion to cook and they want one day to own their own restaurant.  STOP!!  It is a rotten job cooking in heat, trying to make food that fussy customers will like.  Spending huge amounts of your life cooped up in a kitchen with people you may not necessarily like.  Trying to pay the bills for rent, wages, product, and then the staff don’t turn up.  Madness I say.  I also have a passion for food, but I am happy to cook a little in my little kitchen for my family and friends, and then to eat a few times at restaurants I like – but doing it every day for a living.  Never Never Never.  I would be weeping on the programme too if I knew that I would have to have three fussy men looking at my food as if I have resurected it from the dustbin.  Forget it folks.  Go to the beach, go to the library, read a book,  but cook every day of your life nada.