Saturday, March 14, 2009
Friday, February 13, 2009
Juxtaposing Layers
OK, OK, OK.
I know. It's been nearly 12 months since my last update. And no. Unlike the amount of traffic moving around the intranets regarding the tragedy of what's been happening in terms of natural disasters here in Victoria this last week, I haven't been moved to update this blog because of it.
No.
I've been moved to updating this site due to an outrage that's been building in me for a while now. As a human being, OF COURSE I empathise with the victims of natural disasters, the world's poor, of injustice. I'm outraged by the corruption of the world's leaders, and I'm sickened by the rise & rise of racism in this country under the Howard government's tenure in Canberra, and the fact that it hasn't abated under Kevin Rudd's regime.
But that's not why I'm moved to update this site tonight. No sir (or madam).
Sure the bottle of Mount Barker Cabernet Shiraz has helped motivate this diatribe (not to mention the couple of "sneaky go's" of Wild Turkey that slipped past my lips earlier this evening), but no.
The "prime motivator", as I once heard someone say in a meeting I attended once, has nothing at all do with any of these equally inspirational things. I've been inspired to write due to the use of two simple words, used together in a sentence, to describe food.
I guess I should explain.
I like to cook, and I like TV, so obviously I'm a fan of the Food Channel on cable TV. Now of all of the programs one finds littering the ever-repeating schedule of celebrity chef star-maker programs, is a little locally-produced gem, an Australian hybrid of an English program, named "The Best in Australia".
I really appreciate this program, as unlike so many of it's competitors, it feels very unpretentious, very natural, and the hosts seem to have an honest rapport with each other. The hosts are Darren Simpson, Anna Gare, and Ben O'Donoghue - all very likable characters; all very much the type of people you'd love to receive a dinner invitation from. And not just because they're all quite accomplished in the kitchen, but also because they seem like quite decent people, with likable personalities, and healthy senses of humour.
But the hosts are not the reason why I've been moved to update this site.
If you have access to the Food Channel, or indeed, you come across the dvd version of series 2, check out episode five. The show's premise is that our three intrepid cooks compete to come up with the best dishes with a theme, and this episode features the theme, "Best Old Fashioned Desert". Anna Gare cooks a sublime "Bombe Alaska Made With Shop Ice-Cream Jazzed Up With Dad's Burnt Cumquat Marmalade" - quite the mouthful regardless of the emphasis of the description.
Now I mentioned that the three hosts compete, but how is this judged? The meals, upon completion, are served onto three plates, and sent God-only-knows-where in a dumb-waiter to the judges. The judges seem to be a miscellaneous trio of folks, all as opinionated as they are anonymous, nobodies (ironic coming from a blogger). Now upon rating the aforementioned "Bombe Alaska", one of the judges, a twenty-something member of the incredibly horrible "Y-Generation", has the chutzpah to describe this sweet piece of yumminess by it's "...juxtaposing layers".
Juxtaposing layers.
Juxtaposing layers? Fuck me!
This jumped up little fucker has described a desert by it's "...juxtaposing layers". Now we've all heard the Andy Warhol "15 minutes of fame" diatribe a million times over, but SHIT! This guy has summed up a traditional sweet desert by it's juxtaposing layers. Is this a feeble attempt by this high priest of right-handed self-gratification to impress the humble populace of viewerdom?
I think, in a classic expression of Australian vernacular, this bloke is a tosser, a wanker, a monkey spanker. But what's more, I think this guy must be a Liberal voting, future captain of industry, with more friends than you and I on Facebook, and a healthy appreciation for his own self-worth.
Or, as your humble grumbler would prefer, he's obviously just a pretentious little cunt.
Now enough of my diatribe, click the following link to the Red Cross Bushfire Appeal, or call 1800 811 700.
Thank you, and good evening.
I know. It's been nearly 12 months since my last update. And no. Unlike the amount of traffic moving around the intranets regarding the tragedy of what's been happening in terms of natural disasters here in Victoria this last week, I haven't been moved to update this blog because of it.
No.
I've been moved to updating this site due to an outrage that's been building in me for a while now. As a human being, OF COURSE I empathise with the victims of natural disasters, the world's poor, of injustice. I'm outraged by the corruption of the world's leaders, and I'm sickened by the rise & rise of racism in this country under the Howard government's tenure in Canberra, and the fact that it hasn't abated under Kevin Rudd's regime.
But that's not why I'm moved to update this site tonight. No sir (or madam).
Sure the bottle of Mount Barker Cabernet Shiraz has helped motivate this diatribe (not to mention the couple of "sneaky go's" of Wild Turkey that slipped past my lips earlier this evening), but no.
The "prime motivator", as I once heard someone say in a meeting I attended once, has nothing at all do with any of these equally inspirational things. I've been inspired to write due to the use of two simple words, used together in a sentence, to describe food.
I guess I should explain.
I like to cook, and I like TV, so obviously I'm a fan of the Food Channel on cable TV. Now of all of the programs one finds littering the ever-repeating schedule of celebrity chef star-maker programs, is a little locally-produced gem, an Australian hybrid of an English program, named "The Best in Australia".
I really appreciate this program, as unlike so many of it's competitors, it feels very unpretentious, very natural, and the hosts seem to have an honest rapport with each other. The hosts are Darren Simpson, Anna Gare, and Ben O'Donoghue - all very likable characters; all very much the type of people you'd love to receive a dinner invitation from. And not just because they're all quite accomplished in the kitchen, but also because they seem like quite decent people, with likable personalities, and healthy senses of humour.
But the hosts are not the reason why I've been moved to update this site.
If you have access to the Food Channel, or indeed, you come across the dvd version of series 2, check out episode five. The show's premise is that our three intrepid cooks compete to come up with the best dishes with a theme, and this episode features the theme, "Best Old Fashioned Desert". Anna Gare cooks a sublime "Bombe Alaska Made With Shop Ice-Cream Jazzed Up With Dad's Burnt Cumquat Marmalade" - quite the mouthful regardless of the emphasis of the description.
Now I mentioned that the three hosts compete, but how is this judged? The meals, upon completion, are served onto three plates, and sent God-only-knows-where in a dumb-waiter to the judges. The judges seem to be a miscellaneous trio of folks, all as opinionated as they are anonymous, nobodies (ironic coming from a blogger). Now upon rating the aforementioned "Bombe Alaska", one of the judges, a twenty-something member of the incredibly horrible "Y-Generation", has the chutzpah to describe this sweet piece of yumminess by it's "...juxtaposing layers".
Juxtaposing layers.
Juxtaposing layers? Fuck me!
This jumped up little fucker has described a desert by it's "...juxtaposing layers". Now we've all heard the Andy Warhol "15 minutes of fame" diatribe a million times over, but SHIT! This guy has summed up a traditional sweet desert by it's juxtaposing layers. Is this a feeble attempt by this high priest of right-handed self-gratification to impress the humble populace of viewerdom?
I think, in a classic expression of Australian vernacular, this bloke is a tosser, a wanker, a monkey spanker. But what's more, I think this guy must be a Liberal voting, future captain of industry, with more friends than you and I on Facebook, and a healthy appreciation for his own self-worth.
Or, as your humble grumbler would prefer, he's obviously just a pretentious little cunt.
Now enough of my diatribe, click the following link to the Red Cross Bushfire Appeal, or call 1800 811 700.
Thank you, and good evening.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)