Take one charismatic TV chef, add a sumptuous sprinkling of tasty recipes and season liberally with unnecessary superlatives. TV cookery programs are ridiculous nowadays, but as a nation it seems that we are hooked. We love being told how and what to cook, from the most complex of culinary creations to the more modest, humble recipes – we can’t get enough. I feel I should start with an admission: I am an avid fan of the cookery programme format. I always try to take the time out of my busy History of Art schedule to tune in and enjoy the tempting visual feasts placed before me. As I sit to watch one of these shows, stomach rumbling due to the delectable treats on show, (and to the fact that there is no food in my fridge), I wonder, what is our fascination with these shows that not only try to dictate what we should eat, but somehow manage to create unattainable ideals of culinary perfection?
When asked to think of a TV chef that embodies the very notion of a TV cookery chef, the first person that usually comes to mind is Jamie Oliver. Arguably the very catalyst that sparked our current obsession with all things TV food related; Jamie Oliver is amazing. He introduced the public to a new type of cookery programme – he was young, fresh and naked (well, not really). Gone were the days where Delia Smith boringly educated the nation on how to boil an egg; Jamie was energetic, diverse, one might even say ‘pukka’. Jamie showed us we can have fun whilst in the kitchen, that preparing a meal didn’t have to seem like a laborious task – we could have a good time.
Also sharing in this idea of food being fun, interesting, and a good time is Nigella Lawson. Her sensual and seductive presenting style makes every man lust over her calorific goodies. The reason why most people tuned into her TV show was not for her heart attack inducing recipes, but for her pre-watershed food porn. What made Nigella so interesting and watchable was this idea that she had a sexual persona; she knew how to play with the camera. So strong was this persona, her cookery programmes almost became more about her and less about the cooking itself. Nigella made food sexy, a sordid taboo that induced multiple orgasms when tasted. Nigella proved that you did not have to be a trained chef to have your own TV show and succeed.
The very fact that an untrained chef like Nigella could be so successful in the TV food industry sparked an idea that practically anyone could present their own TV cookery show. This stroke of genius gave way to a new type of show – one not so focused on the cooking aspect but great just the same. Come Dine With Me was an amazing format which saw ordinary people don the chef’s hat and cook for complete strangers. In one sense Come Dine With Me indulged the public’s dreams of presenting their own cookery show – but in a competition format. Hilariously innovative, it made everybody want to jump on the dinner party band wagon to see if they were the ‘hostess with the mostess’. It seemed that cooking programmes had to evolve to suit our ever demanding needs – we wanted tasty, interesting food and hilarious presenters to go with it.
Now to try and satisfy our ever demanding need for change, a new breed of TV chef has emerged. From the Baker Brothers to Lorraine Pascal (a model turned baker) – we now have an endless choice of where to get our TV food fix. However, my new favourite TV chef is Heston Blumenthal, who uses cutting edge science to create gastronomic delights. Although such culinary delights are quite hard to replicate in the confines of my small dingy student kitchen, it makes great television.
As long as we are hungry, cookery programmes will have a place in our hearts. We will always need that comforting assurance when cooking for those stressful special occasions. Cookery programmes, it seems, never fail to offer us delicious alternatives to the mundane; they’ve sparked a revolution of wannabe chefs and made cooking cool. So why do we like TV cookery programmes so much? It is because they sell us a fantasy that looks and a taste amazing … it’s such a shame that the fantasy doesn’t match up to the reality.