Dear Food Network Chow Honchos:
If my Yahoo newsfeed and recent interviews are to be believed, there may be an opening on your TV schedule in the near future. Please consider this blog to be my application for that slot. My show would be similar to Paula’s in some ways, with some subtle differences. I think I could be a real asset to your network. No really, pull up a block of cream cheese and hear me out.
1. I have an accent. It isn’t that long, drawn out southern drawl that makes 4 syllable words out of one, but I do hail from a part of the country where the locals apparently talk funny. Y’all will be replaced with Ayuh and nicknames will be less saccharine (no more Sweet Pea and Sugar) and more bait related (perhaps Chummy and Slime).
2. I do not look like I have walked away voluntarily from too many ‘all you can eat’ buffets. I enjoy food, and it shows. Not like that overly-perky little Italian gal with the big rectangular qrin, the head that is a little too big for her body and the cleavage that seems to make it into almost every shot.
3. I am a big fan of butter. Also cream cheese, sugar, butter, mayonnaise, bacon, peanut butter, butter, chocolate and butter. I have devoted many of my cooking years to finding new ways to get those products from the package into my pie hole. OK, that might have sounded a little wrong, but there is no need to cue that 80’s porn music that plays in the background every time they show that underfed Italian girl giving parsley a rough chop.
4. I have two grown boys who love mama’s cooking, clean up pretty well, and for a fee, will be seen in public with me. My youngest (we call him Golden Boy) has developed a keen interest in cooking and has created some delicious meals for his friends and coworkers in his enchanted world far away far away from our little island; my eldest (Large Lad) considers gravy a vegetable, can field dress and/or freeze almost any critter and will spontaneously launch into a, what people who are not me find hilarious, dissertation summarizing his thoughts on any changes in my standard recipes (Spoiler alert: He is not a fan. The first time I recklessly tossed fresh herbs into mashed potatoes he holed up in his bedroom, lived on Pop Tarts and refused to talk to me for a week) Golden Boy would be a welcome regular. Large Lad could be a Downeast- Redneck Special episode.
5. You don’t have to worry about anyone I know complaining about me dropping inappropriate references about other ethnicities. The people in my circle have all said way worse, so will keep their mouths shut. There may be some issue with sexual harassment, but if George Clooney wants to let the world know about my awkward attempt at flirting, who am I to stop him?
6. I am a real person, which will help me connect with the average viewer. When you film me shopping for provisions, you ain’t gonna see me tooling around in a shiny SUV, or Volvo or pontoon boat or whatever Paula drives (to be honest, I stopped watching her once she got all shiny and blinged up) and pulling up to a prime parking spot in front of some fancy specialty wine or cheese or candy shoppe. Nosireee. You are gonna film me in my 13 year old multi-colored Jeep circling the parking lot (the Jaws theme would work nicely here) of the local supermarket, bitching about the tourons in the rented RV taking up 4 frigging spots (OK, we may have to edit that) until I finally ditch my car on someone’s lawn. The sweep through the market will be a constant editing of a beautifully crafted list because half the items are out of stock or past their prime. Checking out will not include smiling at a starstruck preppy clerk while he hands me an adorable yet sturdy paper bag (with handles) containing each of my purchases individually wrapped in tissue, like the Barefoot Contessa in the mythical Hampton place. No, it’ll be me attempting to make small talk with a clerk whose nametag has 14 consonants and who’s entire grasp of the English language consists of ‘Thank you’ and ‘Good Day, yes’ while waiting for me to fish an extra 83 cents out of the bowels of my purse. I will then sprint to the parking lot in an attempt to get to the car before the bottoms of the 12 plastic grocery bags give out. In a salute to the older viewer, you can capture the blank look on my face when I realize I have no idea where I left my car. It is inevitable that the drive home will involve at least one ‘oh shit’ moment when I realize I forgot a primary ingredient and have to stop at a convenience store to find an acceptable substitute. This will be a handy lesson for the cook who does not live in a house with a self-stocking kitchen, like in the mythical Hamptons place.
7. I have developed a list of helpful hints that I am ready to share with my audience—for example:
|I can teach views how to subdue these feisty little fellas|
The zest of a lemon or lime can really perk up many recipes. Taking the little sticky label off the lemon or lime before vigorously zesting it into the other ingredients will make it even yummier and is way easier than trying to fish little bits of zested paper out of a vinaigrette, or your guests' teeth.
After frying up a buttload of bacon for breakfast (or more if you have company), save the bacon grease. A related helpful tip-- if you want to save the grease in a coffee mug, make sure it is a different color from the coffee mug you are drinking coffee from.
If you want to flick cream cheese off the blades of a soup dildo (I guess the technical term is immersion blender) make sure it is unplugged first. If you forget, take some homebaked cookies to the ER when you go to get the stitches out. It really cuts down on judgmental looks and snarky comments about your mental competency.
There are many more reasons why I would be the perfect replacement for Miz Deen, which I would love to discuss over Jell-O shots (my specialty, and a guaranteed invite to any party). However, if you have already changed your mind and decided to give dear Paula a second chance, or have filled this void in your line-up with someone who won't be nearly as entertaining as me, I also love vodka and have lots of gay male friends. Something to keep in mind when Jeffrey finally files a complaint against the Barefoot Contessa for constantly groping him inappropriately.
Thank you for your consideration.