Masterchef Australia, Series 13: Where Are The Old People?

We are seven episodes in to the new series of MasterChef Australia. Everyone is approximately 31 years old. Question-to-self: where are the old people?

Pastels: In! People over 40: Out? I found this lovely image here.

It's not an empty question, but it'll take a while to answer. By 'a while', I meant two thousand words, at least some maths, and spoilers for previous seasons. It'll also take some basic questions. SAUCY.

1. What is the history of MasterChef Australia featuring contestants who are 'old'?

2. What is the typical age-range featured in the show?

3. Is this season really different?

4. Does this matter? 

1. History lesson!

There aren't a lot of contestants that I can immediately recall when I think 'Masterchef Australia' and 'old'. I will, of course, never forget the delightfulest of dew-drops Kumar (from series three, and - at 62 - the oldest contestant in Masterchef). I remember both Colin and Nicole from series six, Billy and  Adele from series two. And...?

I'm blanking because of a number of reasons. First, I've watched a ton of MasterChef Australia but my interaction with three of its series has been more patchy and inconsistent. Which means I haven't a complete 'pool' to begin with. Second, it's easier to remember contestants who have gone further in the competition -- you see them more often, and there are fewer people in the room fighting for attention. This means that whether somebody is 54 or 27, I'm less likely to be able to recall them if they didn't make the top twelve. As there aren't a lot of 'old' contestants that did, I can't quite constitute the group in general.

The biggest reason, though, is that I have no fixed category in my mind for what constitutes 'old'. Old is relative. Old in the citizen register is 70. Old in the undergraduate classroom is 25. Old in ballet is, like, 9. So what is 'old' in the world in which this show is set? 

A prickly pear of a pickle. 

MasterChef Australia usually highlights contestant age when it is unusually low. So, when you have a contestant who seems improbably good in relation to their age, they are marketed to us as young. This, for instance, was partly how we remembered people like Callum (who was 19 in series two), Laura (18 during series six) and Jess (19 in series ten). I haven't watched series eleven, but I know that Larissa was marketed widely as the "youngest winner ever". She was 22 at the time.  

This makes sense. It is remarkable that an eighteen year old can say words like 'I would like to caramelize that onion', and it is remarkable that a twenty year old can keep their semi-developed heads on their shoulders as they compete with people twice their age. 

That's the second thing: how important the non-youth of others is, in highlighting the youth of some contestants. The youngest contestants on MasterChef are usually between 18 and 20. The age of the oldest contestants vary a lot more. The broad middle stays roughly the same, and there's typically a lot of contestants each year who are between 27 and 38. Pass 40 and you're on more slippery ground; pass 50 and it's icy; pass 60, it's Kumar.

All of this to say that age is relational. Jess's age became more tightly drawn around her because it stood in relation to others.  If you took all the contestants in her year (that's series ten, for reference), put them into a bowl, stirred so there were no lumps, passed the mixture through a sieve until everything but age disappeared, and then reduced the remains down until it was viscous, tart and intense, you would get a great sauce. You would also get the arithmetic 'mean' - the average age of all contestants on that series. That number is 34.67. Which, unless you're baking, is basically 35. 

So yes, Of course Jess would be branded as young. She was. She was young relative to her improbable talent. She was young relative to the next-oldest contestant that year: 24-year old Brendan (In my dictionary, Brendan is a collective noun that can be used to refer to sets of dimples as well as dumplings. As in, I'll have a Brendan of dumplings, please'). She was young relative to a contestant pool in which the mean age is nearly 35. 

Now, the 'mean' or average of a set doesn't always tell us as much as we think it tells us.  In some cases, other markers are more useful (the 'median' for example).  Think of an imaginary new MasterChef series in which half the contestants are 33, and the other half are 37. No other ages are represented: which means no Khanh, Brendan, Sashi, Ben, Reece, Hoda, Michelle, Metter. The mean age is still 35, but it's a radically different competition than the one we're given to expect. What is it missing?

Here's a new term: range. Which, in cooking, could mean this or this, but actually it means:

2. Maths!

In MATHS! terms, the range is simply the difference between the biggest number in a set and the smallest number in a set. So, the range of ages in a series that produced Jess (the youngest, at 19) and Gina and Metter (the joint oldest, at 54) would be thirty-five. In fact, a range in the thirties is most common for MasterChef Australia. Here's a chart I made to help. I'm calling it 'age three-ways with textures of chard.'

Age Three-Ways with Textures of Chard (cooking time: 20 minutes)

The chart should show three things. First, it's really common to have the 'oldest' MasterChef contestant be in their fifties or above. It happens (more than) two out of every three times. Imagine if you overcooked rice two out of every three times that you made it. You'd say that it was pretty common that you overcooked rice. 

Second, it's really common for us to see an age-range of at least thirty in the MasterChef kitchen. This, like you overcooking rice, happens (more than) two out of every three times. The range has gone into the forties once (hi, Kumar!) and slipped just below the thirties twice. Both of those times, it's been the presence (or combination) of a relatively older 'youngest' contestant and a relatively younger 'oldest' contestant. 

The third thing the table should tell us is, 

3. Series thirteen is weird

In series thirteen, the oldest contestant is Scott. He's 40.  There are cheeses in the kitchen that are older than Scott. To have an 'oldest' contestant who is 40 in a cooking franchise in which most 'oldest' contestants are 50 and above is weird. That's not you overcooking rice, that's you just washing the grains and leaving them in water and forgetting to put the gas on and eating it all anyway. 

The only other time when someone in their early 40s qualified as the oldest contestant was in series seven. The oldest contestant then was dentist Matthew, at 43. He had company from Melita and Jacqui who were in their 40s too. If that batch of cooks was compressed into a big hunk of either pork or cake (choices!), the wedge that we'd cut off to check for "distinct layers" would have very little height on it.  That's because the difference between the oldest and youngest contestant (the range, in other words) would be twenty-five. 

This series sees a range that is even lower, and by a significant amount. The youngest relic in the fossil show is 19. That's a range of twenty-one. A range of twenty-one means that no one in this competition has spent more than two decades in food, or was around when fondues were bubbling to the surface.  A range of twenty-one means that this is the stumpiest cross-section of pig / cake / Australian inter-generational society we've had so far. A slice as thick as one generation. 

I've been writing about 'range' in a strictly mathematical way so far. But there's a softer sense in which we use the term in our everyday lives. To say that something has range is to say, simply, that is contains diversity.

MasterChef Australia has always tried to highlight the diversity it contains. Most often, the show has done this by identifying and then isolating a set of different cooking styles, philosophies, ingredients to create a broad 'range'. So you'll have somebody who likes to work with freshly-caught seafood, somebody who is all about french patisserie and so on. When taken to an extreme point, these preferences become sharpened into titles: somebody becomes 'the dessert king' and somebody becomes the 'queen of choux'. It's like building a deck of cards with familiar attributes so that people know which one to pick. 

This is diversity conceived through food itself: how someone approaches it, what they want to do with it. But the show has become more comfortable with 'producing' (in the sense that all of the show is produced and managed) and in displaying other kinds of range, too. Series twelve ('Back to Win') did a lot to establish the range that stems from culture, region, sexuality, genealogy, for example. There has been a lot of writing on how consistent markers of cultural difference have made the show feel more expansive and generous. It felt important to watch an episode in which Poh, Khanh, Reynold, Jess and Brendan competed for immunity; it felt important that so many of the contestants in 'Back To Win' were queer. Even the bits that were uncomfortable felt important -- Amina not being able to taste what she cooked because it wasn't halal; the consistent derision towards 'veggo' food; the particular framing of Vietnamese cuisine as non-fancy.

A broad age-range is a basic, sometimes boring, often noticeable, means of showing diversity within a room. This series doesn't have it.

4. Who Cares, M8?

Not this guy

Possibly, no one. I've been tracking articles, recaps and tweets on this show and the low age-ceiling isn't a 'talking point'. Perhaps that's because there are other things to talk about, but absence of the right picture cards doesn't help. We have clear categories for 'fresh-faced cutie' and 'wise beyond his years' on MasterChef Australia. If there were not to be someone from these categories, we'd likely notice. But the picture-cards for 'really capable middle-aged man' and 'quietly competent old-but-not-old lady' are not drawn as brightly.

Going back to the 'older' contestants that MasterChef Australia has seen over the years helps. There are many Noelenes, Pias, Bretts, Anushkas who have inhabited -- and belonged in -- the MasterChef kitchen. There's Debra from series four, Genene from series ten, Peter from serires three, Jimmy from series eight, Rachael from series six. Series twelve is particularly interesting: in giving us returning contestants, it invariably gives us an older contestant pool. So, suddenly, Chris slips inside this 'older' bucket as do Tracy and Poh. 

This allows for a different sort of wonderment. We'd wonder at the person in their fifties, grounded in experience and comfort, choosing to step into a kitchen raging with uncertainty and heat. We'd wonder why somebody who could be cuddling their grandchildren would choose to roast their face off next to a hibachi grill while being shouted at by a frothing chef. We'd wonder because these improbable choices - and the people who make them - are worthy of wonder. An 18-year old boy who can produce something that is unlike what others his age produce (clue: white, gelatinous, and not panna cotta) is wondrous. An 46-year old woman who takes on foolhardy risks with chaotic precision is wondrous too. We need both: in the world, and in the MasterChef kitchen. So why the missing people?

This is not a political question about ageism or an accusation of malice. Producers may, of course, profit more from having younger people (with instagram accounts?) on their show, but I reckon 'gramps with prescription glasses and shaky fingers takes out MasterChef trophy' would be a great story, too. The angle of ageism is less interesting to me, because it replaces the diffuse spirit of an inquiry with the focused heat of a conclusion. I'm not interested in concluding. I would simply like to state what is true and go from there: something has changed and this is unusual. 

Interestingly, 'something has changed and this is unusual' is also the official slogan for 2020-2021. Funny you bring it up. 

Because, yes: something big has happened and this is unusual. There is a pandemic ongoing and a reality show featuring home cooks is being produced at the same time. We can see the presence of the pandemic in the current series of MasterChef Australia, and in the latter half of the previous series. In the distance maintained between contestants in challenges, their aggressive hand-washing, the separate plates that judges eat from. But more often than not, we see the pandemic in the absence of things: the absence of hugs when somebody needs it (never a rarity in this kitchen), the absence of crowds and large-scale challenges, the absence of friends and family in auditions. Should we be adding absent older contestants to this list?

Maybe, maybe not. We know that the pandemic has claimed many casualties. We also know many people have been disproportionately affected by it and that elderly people are more vulnerable. Now, that's a different definition of age entirely -- we're talking 65 and older. I also don't want to urge morbid conclusions -- all the nonnas are dead! -- when none are needed. Australia seems to have handled this better than other countries (I'm writing from India which is losing more people by the day than Australia has lost in a year. What a joke!). So, perhaps the threat of the virus in is felt much less in Australia. Perhaps this is not about older contestants being at-risk and scared to step out as much as it is about the fire and anger of a younger generation that has felt cheated of living their full lives. Perhaps it has to do with who gets to be audacious, and in what circumstances.

There are many kinds of home cooks in Australia - and around the world. Some cook thai and some like pie, and some tend goats and some wear coats, and some are mean and some are clean. And some are old and some are young.  Do all of them have access, at this particular point in time, to the MasterChef kitchen? 

Off Course: The Masterchef UK Final

(Spoilers)

I didn't think I'd write a post about the final because, well, what is there is to say? But it might be a good way to round-off the half-baked (1) series blog I kept. So here's a goodbye Masterchef UK post.

On the result
Completely unsurprising, of course. Shelina was always going to win. The only unexpected thing was that nothing unexpected happened to her. Given how obvious her victory was from the start, I thought it was too easy a call, that surely something would happen to upset the flan(2), leaving someone else at the top and the viewers stunned. But slow and steady etc. except that she doesn't have steady hands (she told us so herself) and she's always the first to finish.

On Tom and Andrew
I'm happy for Tom because he got a near-perfect result, and he needed to because his run-up to the finals wasn't as smooth as Shelina's or Andrew's. His dishes looked spectacular. Andrew didn't have as good a day as he could have, did he? He is the sort of cook who experiments though, so if you have to go out on a flaw, at least it's a characteristic flaw rather than a generic 'potatoes didn't boil' situation. But this may not be my finest theory.

On something weird
I didn't like what happened from the time the winner was announced. From a nervous collective, suddenly it was just Shelina, Greg and John in their exclusive champagne party (no plebs, please). I suppose they wanted to avoid the melodrama that Masterchef Australia is sometimes accused of. But would it have been so terribly unfashionable to invite some of the old contestants back-maybe even the judges- and to not push Tom and Andrew out of the room like dregs(3)? The whole two months were condensed into the winner's moment and it's sad that a series that bubbled as nicely as this one did, ended with a squeak(4)

But let's remember
Shelina and her well-deserved victory, Tom against the flattering pastel shades of plastered walls, Peter Griffen, Angry Bird and Lady Grey at the critics table, Scary-Jay at the gym, Afsaneh cackling, Emma improving, Miso ice-ream and whiskey fish. And in-line with the show's obsession with Coldplay, let's end with Greg's epic poem sung to the tune of The Scientist:

Zip Up Yer Boots (Bo-ots if you're singing it properly)
Back to your roots
to the place of your birth
back down to earth.

Bye.

Off course: Masterchef UK, before the final

I couldn't be happier and I couldn't be more excited. When this series of Masterchef started, I'd predicted quite early on that Tom, Shelina and Andrew would make it to the final four (Aki was the fourth). This isn't to showcase my own prediction skills- they're usually rubbish- but to say that I really think the best cooks are in the finals. That doesn't always happen so it's great when it does. [Hello, Masterchef Australia, season 2; I liked Adam and Callum but Marion should have satayed (1) a little longer].

The last few episodes were a great way to remind those who already knew, and convince those who didn't, of how good they all are. I didn't know there was an episode yesterday, by the bye, so I sauntered off to iplayer only to find that I was already one episode behind. And the finals tomorrow makes it three this week. I think there's someone over at the Beeb who picks a number from a box and that's the number of episodes we get for that week.

But what a good two episodes we just saw. Andrew got hugged like he's never been hugged before by the frightening-looking chef at the restaurant in Amsterdam. The French chef in Dorchester even got his own subtitles only to have them mysteriously disappear while he was speaking. And we met a couple of 'regulars' at Shelina's Bruges restaurants who pop in now and again to have a 90 euro starter. This is where I do some good old proletarian sour-grape(2) throwing: O.O.O.

Everytime I see a clip of Tom running around, a part of me dies. Really, why does every 'it's all going wrong' sentiment have to be backed up by a clip of him running around? He's my favourite of the three but I don't think he's going to win. He's inventive, skilled and worked exceptionally well in the most recent episode, but timing has been a consistent problem of his and it's amusing (3) no one. He's also not been the most consistent cook. Imagine a graph: x axis- inventive, y axis- reliable. Whatever position Jay's on, Tom's would mirror him. No, I don't think it'll be him though I'm desperate to be proved wrong.

My money's on Shelina. She's my least favourite of the three- her canned (4) giggling annoys me to no end. And the exchanges between her and Greg (John too, but more Greg) are becoming more and more embarrassing to watch. But she's the cook who has grown most from the start of the show. She used to be criticized for not being refined enough and playing too safe; she's really moved on from there and I can't remember her having had even one disaster in the kitchen. Also, based purely on pragmatics, since the winner is very likely to start their own restaurant, the fact that she does Mauritian food (or hadn't you noticed?) means she automatically has a niche. But someone please tell her to stop eating into (5) the whole island's supply of mangoes. I can never find any at the shops and it's probably because she's used up the lot.

But Andrew is the best. I think the show can safely release a small stuffed toy of Andrew and it would be best-seller (6); I'd buy hundreds and thousands (7). It could have this string that, when pulled, makes the corners of his face go up, down, up, down, as though he's smiling, then crying, smiling, then crying. He and Tom have a similar cooking profile: Tom's better with desserts, Andrew's more reliable with the staid-cooking stuff, Tom's been more consistent with flavour combinations, Andrew's been better with not repeating mistakes. But he really has a counting problem, doesn't he? With timings, and then with thinking that one mouthful is basically the same as four. Though a close-up of Greg's mouth may justify that.

But here's a question: which person on the show had the biggest transformation? No, it's not Shelina. It's not Tom, it's not Andrew. Hello, MBE for dessert-making woman. Why are you masquerading as Meryl Streep gone to seed (8)? For goodness sake, take that honeycomb Tom made and stick it on your head like a hairband. Ooh, voice spot: hers and that of Joanne Froggatt- Anna in Downton Abbey.

What a lovely chef they had in the kitchen though- Restaurant Gordon Ramsay's way of giving the world something other than a foul (9) tempered (10) nut (11) to listen to. She was helpful and encouraging and, unlike Mike/Jason Atherton, didn't just pay lip service to being strict about what leaves her kitchen. And she seemed very impressed with Tom so I dare say he's got an internship waiting for him when he's done.

Which brings us to tomorrow's episode: Fire Walk With Me. That went fast. The only things I can think of that they should do differently in the next series are: 1. Have a few more contestants to start with. This lot felt two too few. But that was because Emma may or may not have masterminded the disappearance of Ashvi and Jonathan, remember? 2. Bump it up to a consistent two episodes per week once we're at, say, the final six or so. One a week is peanuts (12). 3. Instead of having three different challenges/segments packed into one episode as they had in the earlier rounds, to keep it to two and show more of the actual cooking rather than just starting points and comments.

But who am I kidding? It's been a good run (13).

-
P.S. Some tricky ones to make up for the long silence: (5) Celery (13) Runner beans.

Masterchef UK, Episode 9: Taste Test

We're at a difficult stage in the competition because although no one really deserves to leave, someone has to each time. Tata Aki, you PhD comic.

As a break from all the intensity, here's the ninth episode in the form of an exam.
--

Q1. How many plates of food did the contestants have to make?

A. 230 plates of exquisite, posh food (Greg)
B. It's now gone up to about 280 (Ian the Overall)
C. We're doing two hundred and...I don't know how many (Aki)
D. Two hundred and thirty, forty, five, sixty, seventy, whatever it is (Eamonn)

Answer: No One Knows.*

Q2. 'There are lots of judges sitting here on the high table and if they're not pleased...' What might happen?

Answer: 'Goodness knows...' (Sadistic lawyer, 19.17). We will not accept 'No One Knows'.

Q3. How long does it take to prep vegetables?

A. At least 3 per person, so take 700. I've done 2 in the time I've been talking to you so 10-15 seconds each. (Andrew)
B. Everything we do, got to make 280 portions. Even if you do, like, three a minute, we're not going to get it done. (Andrew)
C. But that takes, you know, a couple of seconds each one and when you're doing 600 of them, that's a lot of minutes. (Andrew)

Answer: Andrew, just stop talking.

Q4. Who or what is always helpful?

A. Mousse being mousse.
B. Mouse being mouse.
C. Mice being mice.
D. Eamonn and Aki in group challenges.

Answer: Mousse being mousse as in 'The mousse is a mousse, which is always helpful'. (Shelina, 25.49)

Q5. What is wrong with this statement by Aki- 'Fingers crossed- I don't freeze my fingers with the nitrogen.'

Answer: If your fingers are frozen, you would not be able to cross them. (Congratulations to Bernard Woolley of Whitehall for being the first to answer this.)

Q6. What is not an appropriate response to Greg saying '[You're] pushing yourself, mate, really going for it- why?'

Answer: I have to make sure that mine's not the worst dish of the day. (Tom, 37.21)

Q7. Complete the analogy. If Jay: You know what I mean :: Eamonn : _____?

Answer: I'll be honest with you.

Q8. In food mythology, who is known as 'destroyer of the wave of smiles'?

Answer: Aki (30.24). But half-points if you said Eamonn. The 'wave' greeting Michel Roux Jr. begins with Tom at 30.04. Watch it- really.

Q9. How did this difficult exam make you feel?

Answer: Like a little ant climbing up a Mount Everest of potatoes (Aki, 14.41).

*Inside joke, but feel free to laugh. Hahaha.

Off Course: Masterchef UK, Episode 8

(Spoilers)

Yes, I know it goes 5, 6, 7, 8 (I heard it in a song), but I was doing other things so we're missing a step (1) and moving on. But before we do:

1. WHAT?! How could Emma have outlasted Afsaneh?! Maybe they felt that the show wouldn't be the same without every episode ending with Emma pledging to do better. But I'm sad Afsaneh's gone.

2. Shelina tells us that what differentiates Italian chefs from others is their love of food. It puts an interesting spin on other styles of cooking. For instance, when a Spanish chef says 'beat an egg', could she actually mean 'beat an egg?' And is grilling chicken an expression of hatred?

Back to this episode:
Aaaand Emma's out. I don't want to say I'm happy because if she's on the show, she must be good; and what do I, or anyone who isn't actually in the kitchen, know about how difficult it is? But I am surprised it took so long and annoyed that she took out Afsaneh. The downside is that I like all the remaining people so every dismissal will break my heart like an egg on the side of a bowl.

On the topic of dismissals, due credit to Emma for her masterful delivery (2) of cricketing metaphors: 'I hate being on the back foot, I want to be on the front foot. And at this stage of the game, I might not have done enough'. That turned out to be true for almost all the contestants in an unexpectedly difficult round. I think it was collective nervousness. They've cooked for chefs in their own kitchens and been judged in the studio by chefs they’ve worked with, but Tom Kitchen was an unfamiliar in a familiar space. Even Andrew struggled to impress his semi-likeness, though narrator India Fisher calling it 'Andrew's Whiskey Disaster' suggests a different problem.

She can join Greg and John in the unfortunate-phrasing corner. Greg demonstrated his disregard for personal pronouns when he told us that his favourite dish was- 'Shelina' (25.16). Not to be bested, John made his contribution to continental philosophy, telling Jay: 'Try and cross the bridge before you come to it'. Happily for us, we can apply this principle of pre-emption to answer a question that Jay likes to ask a billion times each episode (I counted four in this one). Jay, we know what you mean.

Back in the Greg-John contest, victory rested with John on account of this entry about Aki: 'She took some onions and some cheddar cheese and then she turned into a tart.'

Maybe he was thinking of her enthusiastic declarations of love for the judges? But the father-daughter vibe they have going is cool. Watch him scolding her for the mess she's made in the barn between 44.25 and 44.45, guest-starring Tom as ‘mischievous brother’. Oh, did you notice that Tom didn't get a Kitchen comment (4) during his prep? They probably couldn’t fit it in what with all the screen time Shelina gets. Judging by her prominence on the footage, she’s either going to win or gets booted in a shock decision. And while she’s obviously good, her quiet, coy smugness is getting to me. But I’d probably be coy too if my dish looked like a homage to Freud. Go on, take another look at 22.17.

Good to see that the barn challenge went better; they seem to work well together. Tom was being more assertive which is nice to see, more sizzle (5) between him and Shelina at 46.16, Jay and Eamonn were joking around, Aki and Eamonn resolved the dessert problem without squabbling (She’s really a team-player. Remember the Austen episode?). Oh, and they'd better get a new praise-clip for Eamonn or I'm going to drown in the mouthful of sea that the oyster-eating green woman from episode four keeps banging on about. I think she’s the past-series winner whose victory precipitated a fall-out between the judges.

Pity about Aki's oven problem. To be fair, if we'd been watching, we'd have known it was imminent. Here she is at 43.27:

‘I think I’ll use the oven’.

Pause.

‘How do you use the oven?’

And then, mystery of mysteries! Who turned down the oven to 120 degrees? That's low (6) by any standards. Going by Shelina’s furtive look at 46.02, I’d say it woz her wot did it. Somebody give that oven its own show.

Best on-cue eating award to Shelina at 35.18 for eating a leaf just after she spoke about how lovely it is to be outdoors in Cumbria. She shares the prize with John for his on-cue fake smile at 57.12. The what-were-you-thinking award goes to the editing/camera-work team for slipping in a shot of a cat as part of the ‘edible animals’ montage at 45.41. Don't worry, I'm sure they didn't actually cook the cat. Unless it was curious , in which case...

Off course: Masterchef UK, Episode 6

(Spoilers.)

They are dropping like fries! (1) First Jonathan, now Ashvi. Is this the work of an evil participant looking to eliminate the competition (my money's on Emma)? Or is the show making up for the dramatique of the last series by urging people to quit so that the judges don't have to choose? Or maybe John and Greg have been stripped of their firing power (2) and don't want anyone to know. Yes- I've had a think and this is definitely what I think happened.

But I'm glad Ashvi's gone. I liked her at the start of the competition but she did poorly in the last challenge and was only a bit better in this week's mass catering challenge. It's true that chicken curry can have runny gravy, though, so one point to Ashvi the 'Authentic Indian' (as opposed to all the counterfeit Indians they keep rolling off the printing presses). One point added but ten taken away for being so unpleasant to everybody and for yelling at Andrew. No one yells at Andrew while I am around. Andrew is the best.

More samples of Afsaneh's terrifying laughter but she did make a moussaka all by herself and without any fuss, so she's allowed a cackle or two. So what if Greg doesn't actually know how to say her name and called her Asfaneh at 14.50? Ooh, another voice-resemblance spot: moussaka eater at 20.35 and Lock Stocks' Barry the Baptist.

Plenty of drama in that kitchen service, though- and not just because they were meant to be feeding three hundred workers. Tweedledum and Tweedledee were doing some passive-aggressive fighting, the best kind to watch. By that I mean that Eamonn and Jay were rehearsing that age-old debate: turnips or potatoes. Imagine the scene:

"I would like to put some turnips in this Lancashire hot pot."
"NO! NO turnips! Put in some potatoes!"
"Fine, I'll put some potatoes but I'm telling you know- I'll cut those beef pieces bigger than usual and there's nothing you can do about it."

Masterchef-it's wild.

The cinematic theme ran through the rest of the show, too. Back in the Masterchef kitchen, with the contestants cooking to stay in the competition, we were treated to two compressed romantic comedies. The first between Greg and Shelina (Come Away With Me: I'm serious) and the second between John and Aki (Lolita: Fire of my tenderloins). The two judges have obviously coordinated their moves because their looks of lechery are alarmingly similar. It appears that the show has decided to place the former story higher up in the pecking order (3) so between 43.33-45.10, we arrived at the climax of the movie: an exchange between an appreciative Greg and a bashful/knowing Shelina over dessert. Bubbling with tension, saccharine (4) and all-round cringe-worthy, it ended with our lovely heroine saying that 'it was the best feedback a girl could have'.

What else could match up to that, really? Even Tom's super souffle can't rise (5) to the challenge. Emma's onion ice-cream made her cry (onions do that), Jay blow-torched the beef while John made faces at him behind his back and Andrew went from pixie to Santa-elf. I continue to be ambivalent about Aki and I am annoyed that I used up my offal pun in the last post because that's exactly what Afsaneh served up.

But what the closing minutes of the episode demonstrated was the high standard of the competition this year. If Andrew, Afsaneh and Aki are in the bottom four of a group, it must be a pretty good group. Which brings me to: how come Emma's still here? I have nothing against her but so far she hasn't shown that she has the skills to pip(6) any of the others to the post. If Ashvi hadn't quit, I think it would have been her leaving. There's always hope, though, and maybe she's saving up for later. Or plotting to take someone else out.

Next person to disappear? Shelina. (Come Away With Me II: She did)

Off course: Masterchef UK, Episode 5

(Spoilers)

So the new series of Masterchef UK is back on and we're five episodes in. It's much better than the last series, thank god, because that one was awful (1). Silly format, not nearly enough cooking and an unpalatable (2) slant towards drama that made most of the contestants seem vaguely unlikeable, annoying and/or incompetent even if they were actually lovely people who could make omelette. I stopped watching after a few of episodes.

This series is very good, though. It hasn't wasted any time waffling (3) about. We met eight contestants, then six, then four, everyday for three days, and now we have ten contestants, no wait-nine (one quit)- and, yeah, five episodes in. Okay so far? I wish I could have worked 'two' and 'seven' in somewhere but as they say, two many cooks... (4)

They just had their Jane Austen catering challenge. Eamonn definitely wanted to be team leader but Andrew got the job. Poor Eamonn. Never mind- he wasted no time in dishing (5) out orders anyway. Then they went and lost and he didn't get to meet Jason Atherton, who I keep calling Mike Atherton because at least he's interesting. Poor Eamonn. That will be my new catchphrase. His voice, by the way, is almost exactly like Bill Bailey's when he's announcing the food to the Austen Friars (6) between about 21.23 and 21.26- check out the inflection at the end of the sentence ('Best food you will taste in Bath!', says Eamonn. Poor Eamonn.)

No I don't dislike him. Okay, maybe a little bit but only in this episode and that too because he was being bossy and a bit ungracious about the loss. But I'm sure he makes a super omelette.

Where were we, anyway? Oh, yes, okay. So Ashvi's recipe involved putting some vegetables into some other vegetables. I think she was secretly listening in on the other team and picked up this gem from Aki: 'My idea...stuff whatever we can with whatever we have, and make it taste good, and look really good'. Extraordinary stuff. To which we might hear the superhero version of Ashvi saying 'Yeah, I'll stuff those cabbages alright! And the tomatoes- I'll stuff those too! In fact, damn it all, I'll stuff the whole thing up!' And she did. Poor Eamonn.

And while we're on the subject of quantum physics, I don't know how to feel about Aki. The part of me that's been a serial student all her life is screaming madly for her because she's a doctoral student doing something other than footnoting; the other part wants to tell her to simmer down (7) a bit. But she seemed really efficient in this challenge so good for her.

I like Emma's teeth.

I hope you didn't miss the brief sparks (8) between Shelina and Tom when they were cooking in Mike Atherton's kitchen between 42.11 and 42. 22 ('Back!' 'Back!'). How lovely. Tom's great, by the way, have I mentioned this? Yeah, he's smart and seems to be able to keep it together. I have a feeling he won't win because the people I root for never do- they often come in second, though so at least that's something. Shelina seems good too. She certainly did a good job as team leader and wasn't flopping about like a boneless chicken.

Who else is left? Andrew I really like. Greg said of him that he's part-'food library'. I think the other part may be some kind of pixie. Yeah, I like him very much. Jay's great too. I generally like the kind of people who keep their heads down and do their work well. Jonathan was really growing on me and he did so well in the challenge. Wonder why he quit. I'm sure it's not because of the pail of snail he had to serve- that may have been a big deal for Mike A. but it shouldn't have made much of a difference to the competition. I have a feeling that Afsaneh is off her rocker. Her crazed smile when Greg was telling her that she couldn't possibly remake the custard or whatever at 28.01 was positively frightening.

Moving on from the contestants, I laughed quite a bit at the crowd at the Austen festival. I'm quite cynical and some of them invited comment: strange woman giggling at women not being allowed to serve themselves, I'm looking at you. But most of them were just nice, trussed up (9) people in bonnets so hooray for their commitment. I did want to throw some paper at the mayor/sheriff person who felt compelled to make his cultural mark by likening a crab dish to a Damien Hirst, and the woman who had an epiphany along with her side order of Ox cheek. And did the mayor/sheriff look alarmingly like David Bamber's Mr Collins from the BBC's 1995 series or was it just the side-effect (10) of him standing next to Adrian Lukis (who played Wickham)?

But the show's been great so far and the contestants seem a good lot (what do I know? I can't even braise an egg) so I'm in and I'm hungry.

P.S. (1) is offal, in case that's the one you couldn't process (11).