Cooking and the Food Network

Thursday, August 19, 2004 10:40 PM

It started off simply enough. I was up late one night, attacked with another bout of insomnia, when I ran across the Food Channel. Correction Food Network . A channel, I discovered, dedicated entirely to food.

I had heard of it in passing. Mostly in conversation between my grandmother or great-aunt followed by an engrossing dialogue about Martha Stuart or the latest issue of Good Housekeeping. Consider the context in which I had learned about the channel, I had already decided that it was, obviously, not for me. I am no Martha Stuart. Lace doilies have no place in my home. Four course meals, silk window treatments imported from France, hand-knitted scarves, and wine tastings are foreign concepts to me. At least, that’s what I thought.

Finding nothing else on television, and desperate for anything to entertain my sleep deprived brain at two o’clock in the morning, I turned on Food Network. A Cook’s Tour was the program du jour that night. Needless to say, that was when the first sparks came to life. I was puzzled at first by the foul mouthed, chain smoking, New York chef who hosted the show. There he was in the middle of Cambodia, flies swarming around the him all the while he talked about demiglace and osetra caviar.

I blame the events that followed on that one show.

Naturally, seeing natives in dilapidated shacks whipping up delicious meals peaked my curiosity. As did the sudden revelation that not everyone who enjoyed cooking wore hand-sewn aprons and threw things together in spotless kitchens with matching dish wear.

So, I decided to do a little research into this whole cooking phenomenon. It seemed everyone was doing it. Men, women, young people, old people. Obviously, I had missed the bandwagon. Eager to catch up, and recently addicted to shows like Iron Chef and Good Eats , I wasn’t about to let the annoyingly peppy Rachel Ray out cook me!

It began with a soup or two, followed by a failed attempt at homemade pasta. I skirted around steak and chicken, slowly making my way into pies and pasties. At last, I worked my way up to baking, which proved to be a success as shown by the three tiered chocolate cake that disappeared in five minutes flat at my aunt’s birthday. Even as I write this, I have a loaf of bread rising on the stove just waiting to be popped into the oven.

Have I changed since I discovered The Network ? Yes and no. I do have a new found appreciation for four course meals. And I do find myself linger in the whole foods section of the grocery store a little longer than usual, but I don’t expect me to break out the knitting needle or pull out the thread basket to sew up that hem on my favorite skirt. I may spend a lot more time in the kitchen now days, but I haven’t turned into a Stepford Wife. I’m still a punk rock listening, Firefly watching, sci fi junkie. Don’t believe me? That’s alright. I know I haven’t lost it. What ever it is.

Why have I written this? To rub people’s noses into my new found cookdom? No. I’ve written this to encourage all of you others who were once perplexed by the whole cooking thing. To let you know that you too can tackle that recipe book that’s been sitting on your book shelve for the last three years collecting dust. To let you know it’s alright to embrace the cooking monster inside of you that’s been begging to get a hold of that potato ricer. I’m no expert in the kitchen, but I sure have a lot of fun getting my hands dirty.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think Emeril just came on.

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