My name is Sarrah and I don’t watch MasterChef
After a week in which the country went into a collective meltdown following the eviction of someone called Marion Grasby, it’s easy to forget there are actually people who don’t watch MasterChef.
Perhaps it’s time for those of us who have somehow managed to miss the entire series to form a self-help group.
I can’t have been the only one left feeling completely bewildered by overhearing spirited conversations about satay sauce everywhere I go. Can I? I’m not sure fans of the show understand how bizarre lengthy debates over the finer points of Thai cuisine cook-offs sound to their hopelessly uninitiated friends and colleagues.
I didn’t set out to remain ignorant of the runaway hit. As someone who is counting down the days until the new series of Australia’s Next Top Model, I’m not adverse to reality shows that centre on weekly eliminations and manufactured melodrama.
It’s the subject matter that disinterests me. I’m just not into food shows. I struggle to feign enthusiasm over cooking in real life, much less devote my evenings to watching total strangers flit about a kitchen.
But news of an American company unveiling the latest development in pre-packaged cuisine might be enough to persuade even this anti-foodie to see the light.
It’s the invention we’ve all been waiting for – a sandwich in a can. Going by the name Candwich, it will be sold in three flavours, each sounding more disgusting than the last. There’s peanut butter & strawberry jam, peanut butter & grape jam and barbecue chicken.
Taking the concept of non-perishable food to a new low, they boast a long shelf life, do not require refrigeration and will be available in vending machines as an on-the-run meal for busy people.
Canned sandwiches? Has it really come to this? Even someone of my limited culinary skills can assemble a freshly cut sandwich when required.
Suddenly MasterChef isn’t just a popular television program – it’s the very key to civilisation. If a couple of million viewers remaining glued to the antics of a bunch of amateur chefs is all that stands between us and sandwiches in a can, then sign me up.
Come next year I vow to tune in to each and every episode.
I’m not sure what difference having one more aboard the MasterChef bandwagon will do, but conveying the impression we’re a nation of knowledgeable foodies might just help delay the arrival of canned sandwiches on our shores.
Plus I’ll finally know what everyone’s talking about when they huddle around the watercooler to analyse the distinction between a macaron and macaroon.
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