Monday, July 25, 2011

Pick your poison, Bobby Flay, I'm the Next Food Network Star

Anyone who watched this week's “Food Network Star” knows that Jyll will not be the next “Food Network Star.” Some might say it's a spoiler to reveal the demise of Ms. Jyllicious, but not me. I realized a couple things about her. First, she was incredibly dull, and secondly, she can't win, because I am the next “Food Network Star.”

That's right, take that Jeff, take that Whitney, take that Susie and Vic Vegas. You will not be the next “Food Network Star.” You will be watching my show, which I've cleverly titled “Pop-Tarts.” You can imagine my POV on that one (hint, breakfast).

Most people just take Pop-Tarts and eat them straight out of the package. Sometimes they alter things by eating two of them together as some sort of rich man's sandwich. I highly support that, but my POV will allow so much more opportunity. Have you ever tried toasting them? Flavor nirvana right there.
I'll dispense wonderful pro-tips like how to
remove the tart from its wrapper prison.

But I realized why should I set my sights so low? A show that will be canceled after one season on a network located squarely outside of the top 33 networks? Sure, I'll take it, but I want more, more, oh so much more. Winning one cooking competition is somewhat notable. But becoming “America's Next Top Food Network Hell Chopped The Voice” could really elevate my status above a mere Richard Blais. I could even surpass any of the nameless non-Guy Fieri Food Network “Stars” (seriously, was one of them named Chippy?).

People who've read some of my recent posts may already realize I'm a food genius. Whether it's my righteous popcorn recipe, my awesome take down of foodies or my creation of one of the finest search engines ever, they know I deserve to win any food related reality show.

I'm not going to coast by on these past accomplishments. I've watched just about every cooking reality show ever (even that one where gastric bypass patients must create a gourmet meal out of their own stomach band), so I know a thing or two about how to win these competitions.

I've got a thoroughly planned out and annotated map to the victory. I will never pack my knives. I will never go.

My first step involves winning immunity, and winning immunity always. I think I can accomplish this by threatening to poison the judges. If Padma Lakshmi thinks my sous vide Whoppers might have a smidge of arsenic in it, I'm absolutely guaranteed immunity, since she thoroughly hates being poisoned. Boom, mission accomplished.

Little does Bobby Flay realize, my "Five Alarm Burger" has
five types of poison (including truffles).
Then, when the elimination challenge comes, I actually poison the judges. You see, it's a little known fact, but immunity actually translates to all aspects of life. Top Chef season 4 contestant Marshal Johnson was wanted in four states for aggravated manslaughter, but his butternut squash risotto earned him immunity and therefore clemency for his crimes. It also earned him the right to murder up to seven more people in the proceeding year, because of its sheer butternutty goodness. Once I win the coveted immunity, BAM, a judge drops out (due to “death”), and then Bobby Colicchio would know to not mess with me.

When all is said and done with, I'll have the write up in Food and Wine magazine, the head chef position (that's a glorified sous chef) at BLT Steak, some nachos, and a five million dollar recording contract. All of these things are neat, I guess. What I'm most looking forward to is the clout from these endeavors. Because then, and only then, I'll finally be able to create my food item that's cookie dough covered with frosting. Cookie Frosting, I'll call it.

Already, this food product sounds amazing. But from my cooking show notoriety (read murderness) garnered from all my wins will give me the ability to have “Cookie Frosting” be listed as the newest “basic taste” alongside sweet, sour, bitter and saltiness. Oh, and we'll do finally do away with “umami,” because it's a foodie word, and we don't need it.

My reign as Food Network Star will certainly be sweet. Some might even say Cookie Frosting sweet.

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