Judges From “Iron Chef Japan” Critique Dishes Prepared By A Soccer Mom
"Yellow peppers give me an agreeable nature!"
THEME INGREDIENT: PEANUT BUTTER
*****
1) Appetizer–Pascal Celery Stalks Covered in Aromatic Peanut Paste and Sprinkled With Organic Dehydrated Grapes
Judge #1- Superb fusion of ingredient.
Judge #2- Attractively refreshing, but sadly texture of parched grape seemed to lose authority in velvet of pasted peanut. I would have felt greater affection for more corpulent combustion of flavor.
Judge #3- Elegantly presented, so succulent to my eye. They should name this delicacy “Small insects resting on a piece of lumber.”
*****
2) Main Course–Sweet Plantains and Dry Roasted Nut Spread Served Amid Two Slices of Leavened Rye
Judge #1- I am appreciative of the presentation, however I feel less excessiveness of exotic fruit would have made this more likable to my oral cavity.
Judge #2- The taste is lethargic and left my mouth lonely. I hate being angry but I don’t think I enjoy this.
Judge #3- Sadly, my palate has become jaded from charm of the first dish.
*****
3) Dessert–Crisp Pomaceous Fruit Wedges Dipped in A Creamy Peanut Coulis
Judge #1- Although the arrangement is not overly jovial, I was immediately given intense satisfaction when I laid this ambrosia upon my taste buds. Where can I go to eat more of this delight?
Judge #2- My mass could be greatly compromised were I to indulge in this mouth-watering loveliness on all of the days. I am grateful for the machine that will allow me to exert energy after.
Judge #3- This dish makes me feel rich! I am bestowing upon this pleasantness to my orifice two opposable fingers up.
LOVE. THIS.
ME. TOO.
Ha! As we say here in Latin America, “GRASSY. ASS.”
ps. Just wait until I come out with the one where the theme ingredient is “Nature Valley Granola Bars”.
My humour sense was enlargened by this most fantastic of posts!
(and I’m cracking up at the “ants on the log” — and to think when I was a kid, I had no idea my Mom was producing gourmet delights)
Hope all is well, b!
Hey Talon!
It is very nice to visualize you, I have to say that I find your comment both good-humored and extremely gratifying.
I hope things are going well over on your end T, hopefully it’s only a matter of time before I finally have access to internet that doesn’t take 20 minutes to load Blogger blogs…
b:)
HA! One of our favorite shows! Okay . . . my wife, really, because I have a problem with shows about cooking or fixing houses, but the television is often on this crazy show, and my wife is happy, so I’m happy . . . one of my favorites! Very agreeable and good for marriage! That guy’s a wicked Kung Fu dude. Great humor, B! You mock him wisely! Many exclamation points!
Thanks Dan!!!!!!!
The funny thing is that I used to be obsessed with this show, yet because I’m such a picky eater I wouldn’t touch any of the dishes with a ten foot pole. It was the only cooking show I watched religiously. I used to make my boyfriend sit with me every Friday night while I stared at the screen, dry heaving over the theme ingredient while at the same time drooling over Masaharu Morimoto, aka. “Iron Chef Japanese”. (I thought the fact that he never spoke was sexy…?)
Looking back, that may have had something to do with why we broke up…
Judge #3 worries me with his choice of words, particularly “orifice” in close proximity to his wish to give it “two thumbs up.” It reminds me of a Richard Gere anecdote involving an orifice, an emergency room staff, 6 troy ounces of “creamy peanut coulis” and a six-pack of gerbillus amoenus.
However, that is all beside the point, as usual. Two thumbs up to this bit of hilarity, charmingly packaged in overwrought pretentious dialogue (like a Merchant-Ivory film) and laden with charmingly presented orifices (again, like a Merchant-Ivory film).
I do miss the real Iron Chef, though. This totally American version retains none of the outlandishness and cold-blooded octopi killing that charmed the bejeezus out of me so many years ago. That, and I can’t stand Bobby Flay. Or Rachael Ray. Or about half the current celebu-cooks on the network at this point in time.
Congrats again, bschooled. You are the true Iron Blogger, sending your missives to us despite your lack of pure drinking water or stable internet access.
Nice work, CLT. Once again you have picked up what was inadvertently (and somewhat disturbingly) put down. Orifice and opposable fingers should not be in the same medical encyclopedia, let alone the same sentence. Sure, it’s something everyone thinks about from time to time (what with it being a free country and all, who wouldn’t?), but never does. “The proverbial double shocker”, if you will.
I miss the Iron Chef as well. Side-splittingly hilarious, making Emeril’s incessant “BAM”-ing and Rachel Ray’s “everything that comes out of her mouth” seem humorless in comparison. C’est la vie…or should I say “Such is the existence”.
Thank you for the props, CLT. It’s comments such as these that make the deficiency in edible water and computer usability all seem worthwhile.
My favorite spin on the first appetizer is:
Sundried organically farmed and humanely euthanized insects quietly reposing on a green twig-
Haha!
That is brilliant. I hate being jealous, but I wish I would have thought of that!
Thanks Anonymous,
bschooled:)
Ditto! I’m a picky eater too, bschooled. The more expensive the restaurant, the less I can find on the menu to eat (and need I mention the smaller the portions?). But, how I love reading the tantalizing descriptions!!
I can’t even believe I’m admitting this, Elizabeth, but for the last three out of the four times I’ve travelled to Central America, I’ve brought along at least two boxes of protein bars. When I talk about immersing myself in the culture, I only mean the outer part of me, not the part that’s involved in the digestive process.
The worst thing anyone can say to me is, “Guess what B, I’m taking you out for a fancy dinner!”
Oh, how I wish I had control over my involuntary gag-reflex, but alas, I don’t.
Get back here already and quit playing with your food!
I would sell my grandmother for a jar of Skippy. No lie.
Well, you’re in luck, M!
I found a whole case of Skippy that I’m bringing back just for you! (Just ignore the expiry date, I was told these Guatemalans tend to exaggerate.) They drove a hard bargain, but it all worked out in the end.
ps. I hope your Grandmother likes dressing in traditional Mayan costume….
oh I hope this segment is ongoing. I have a lonely lethargic mouth too
Don’t worry, NM. I will befriend your mouth and help to re-energize it. In a way that makes you feel non-threatened, of course…
Haha, you funny rady. No more vacation for you, you come home now.
Haha! Or as they say over here, “You bery funny lady. Can I have quetzal?”
Shame Carol couldn’t get to see this
It took me over an hour to load this video from here…
…but I would do it again in a heartbeat.
Thank-you, FJ. This seriously made my life.
why did it take me 2 days to realize you’ve given us another masterpiece? the guatemalan air must be doing a extra number on that brain of yours!
Trust me, Jill, this Guatemalan air is doing something!
Only I think it’s more on my digestive system than my brain. Oh, and not so much the air as the food…
You’ve just given me an incredible idea for a new reality show. As you know, it doesn’t take much for me.
Every week we pick 3 lucky housewives from Orange County….or wherever really and let them cook their little mittens (that’s what I call them) off.
Then we have your 3 judges from Iron Chef Japan judge the food.
Then we have Gordon Ramsey, Tom Colicchio and Simon Cowell judge the judging.
Then we have Howard Stern come on and make the housewives and Japanese judges strip naked while making the three celebrity judges throw hot dogs at all six while berating each other for ‘selling out.’
Are you in? If so I’ll let you name it. I got nothing on this end….
Of course I,m in, you had me at “You’ve”!
Only instead of calling them mittens, can we call them claws? Or better yet, breast implants?
Oh, and can Betty White make some sort of guest appearance? And Rue Mcclanahan? Even if it’s just a cameo at the end where she hobbles to the front (while dodging hot dogs, of course) and starts flirting with Chen Kenichi. Sure, they may be old, but you have to admit they’ve got that “comic timing” thing down pat.
I’ll start thinking about names, maybe something along the lines of “Gold-Yen Girls”…
Of course Betty and Rue can make guest appearances; they could even be regular cast members who berate each other and Chen Kenichi’s penis. Maybe Betty can even do some physical comedy; I hear it’s her new shtick.
I love your ideas. That S.A. cervaza must be great for your creative juices!
Ha!
Maybe I can bring back a couple of Mayans as well…we’ll turn this into a multicultural reality-show melting pot!
Wow.
Reminds of the IT guy that spent fifteen minutes giving me an answer to question that actually took twenty seconds to answer and the remaining fourteen minutes and forty seconds to explain the twenty second answer.
Great post.
You are missed in this quarter.
G!
It’s good to see you! I tried going to your blog the other day, but I’m having trouble accessing Blogger blogs from here (I think the Mayans are to blame.)
I feel your pain re: those IT guys. Everytime I was forced to call the service desk at my old job, I had to sit on my hands, just to stop myself from taking the envelope opener and stabbing my eyes out with it.
Great seeing you, G! I miss reading your stories, I promise I’ll be over to your neck of the woods just as soon as the Mayans let me…
b:)
Gracias.
Hope you’re staying safe and sane down there with the Mayans.
Served in the style of Nyotaimori would indeed add flourish and photo appeal.
Waiting…
Ha!
Thank-you Laird. Not only are you trying to help me immigrate to Oz (thus giving me the opportunity for a better life), you are educating me on Japanese culture. Although, after making supplementary investigative research, I must say that Nantaimori bestows more enjoyment upon my ocular organ than that of the Nyotaimori.
But that is just myself.
Delaying…
Ah yes well, we know which side of the bread your buttered on,eh!.
This is a quick note to inform you that in New Zealand they are Maroi not Mayan(I’m still worried why you’d go to UN Zud for a holiday, you can take the girl out of Canada but etc;)so;
When your deported, tell ‘em you want to fly north east, and a fair way, smile occasionally, Un Zudders a weird, they won’t take our asylum seekers,stuck up bastards.
Thinking out loud,I do that, annoys the piss out of my dogs, you have hit on the cure as we have discussed. Being deported from Un Zud is fantastic, your a shoe in for our plans now, Oz loves deportees from Un Zud, try and do something appalling if/ when you get home, your Gov; is ripe for dissent after their little floor show, stuff that could get you kicked out of Canada, work on it.
Did you go to any party’s in Un Zud and ‘lay back’.. is this you?
http://www.hickerphoto.com/data/media/152/maori-tattoo-designs_3598.jpg
My goodness, if we open a Japanese Sushi, ahem , Restaurant here in Oz (back up plans) with your new look ,the Lava lamps just won’t be needed.. To save agnst, I feel a Nyotaimori week then a Nantaimori week, that way I can go fishing.
Planning.
Laird,
I must say, not only are your “out loud thoughts” insightful (don’t worry what your dogs say, because really, those canines can be bitches sometimes), they have also been extremely educational. Not only have you taught me the meaning of those Nyot-Nant words (forgive my laziness, I’ve been up since noon), you also forced me to look up the neaning of the terms “Maroi”, “Un Zud” and “deportee” (what can I say, I failed “Immigration/Legal Jargon 101″ in college).
I have to say that sadly that is not me, although I can see how you might think that. As you can tell by my avatar, I have tinted glasses and a really nice watch, which, as you can tell, is attached to the wrist holding up the hand that’s running its fingers through my long, golden locks. Oh, and I also happen to be in the 1960′s.
But other than that, she and I do look quite similar.
Oh, and by the way, I’m not big on sushi. (It’s a religious thing). How about Mexican?
Praying.
B. Schooled -
The gastronomical nightmares you have detailed here were a welcome respite from my ongoing struggle to reclaim my “identitiy,” which was apparently stolen piece-by-piece via email and mid-afternoon phonecalls from a group of enterprising, but nearly illiterate, youngsters.
The celery stalks and dehydrated grapes in particular brought to mind my heyday as a frontline saucier during our nation’s struggle with Communism in the Korean theater. By our nation, of course, I mean the United States. And by struggle, I mean “played to a tie as the ‘visiting’ team.”
We were often called upon to create imaginative new dishes while under fire and often without proper ingredients or food safety certification. During a particularly harrowing attack, our kitchen crew was enlisted to feed nearly 500 men using only mushroom soup and government-issue canned meat byproducts.
Those who survived their shrapnel wounds and shellshock were soon treated to a jury-rigged casserole that soon saw them re-enter the nearest M*A*S*H* tent with cripplingly painful intestinal disorders and several complaints of blindness.
We were used to the intestinal pain, mainly due to our lax refrigeration standards and casual disregard for expiration dates, but the blindness was something new.
We soon tracked down the culprit. Our newest addition, a certain Pvt. Buckhalter from Mississippi, had decided to give the casserole a little “Southern” flavor by dumping liberal quantities of his homemade hooch into the mix.
Now we’ve all spiked a punchbowl or two in our time, and a few of us have even gone as far as to put Mary Jane in the blender along with the rest of the brownie ingredients, but many of us had the restraint to not add homemade booze to our meals.
In many cases, the combination of chemicals would often dry the food to a hard, poisonous mass and occasionally cause what we termed in follow-up reports as “spontaneous combustion.” On the bright side, the heady fumes and low ignition point would often allow us to cook a meal and clean the oven at the same time.
Anyhow, I do appreciate those chefs who can whip up a meal under pressure and without edible ingredients, as is evidenced in the opening pairing of plywood and raisins, a fruit that very slimly edges out the “fruit” in fruitcake in the flavor department.
Very enjoyable reading, bschooled. I think my vocabulary doubled, bringing with it the chance that useful words like “hemorrhage” and “pension” will soon be forced out of my brain by words like “pomaceous” and “ambrosia,” thanks to the onset of dementia.
Sincerely,
C.L. Tanager
Thank you so much for the outstanding comment/narrative, Clifton.
I could be wrong (not really, I just say that), but it sounds to me like you have some very fond memories of back when you were a saucier. Memories that I’m sure you wouldn’t trade for the world (or a shrapnel-free abdominal cavity, for that matter).
I guess it’s true what they say, whatever doesn’t kill you just makes you laugh heartily about it years later via mechanical larynx!
?
I do find it strange you didn’t patent that combination of chemicals allowing you to cook and clean at the same time, though. I have a feeling it could have turned into a real cash cow. Especially when you consider the fact that the Great Depression ended years earlier, and more and more women were working outside of the house, thus looking for shortcuts in the kitchen.
(Er, don’t quote me on that, though. Social Studies was never my schtick, I just figured that was the deal since the Korean War happened around the same time Swanson came out with frozen dinners.)
But to each his own, I guess.
Regardless, I just want to say thanks again, Clifton. Not only was your story fascinating, you’ve given me a new appreciation for casserole, which, until now, always seemed to subconsciously trigger my gag-reflex.
Bschooled
WOWSERS!
such delicacies! Mum says that im not really allowed too much peanut butter as it will give me rabies and make me hyperactive. Most things do though, i think.
Rick says that the irons chef is a televisual program about cookery? Sounds magical!
I hope that the southern americas are so wonderful! I would love to travel one day, but mum doesnt like getting on planes. Or drive long distances.
Oh wells! YOU’RE SO LUCKY!
Bob
I hate to say this, Bob, but in your case, your mum might be right. Just to be safe, I think you’re better off sticking to a diet of unconditional love (from your mum) and water. And don’t forget a daily serving of those hearty LOSTLs!
anyway, thank-you for the well wishes, Bob. Maybe one day, after your mum di…er, finds a boyfriend, you’ll be able to do some travelling yourself. Heck, you could even come to Canada, even! How fun would that be? You could fly right into my city, and even though I will be out of town that week and therefore not able to meet you personally or show you around, at least you’ll get to immerse yourself in a completely different culture.
A culture where not only are people are overly-apologetic and friendly to the point of nausea, they also use words like “Mom”. And “fanny pack”.
Think about it, Bob. Before it’s too late.
Your friend,
Bschooled
I love the iron chef but I feel they should have kids judging it versus pretencious adults. I can’t figure out what half the crap they make is. If a kid likes the taste you did good.
Bearman!
I have to agree. I love the Iron chef because of its theatrics, but when it comes to figuring out what the hell the dishes are, it might as well all be in Chinese. (Or should I say Japanese?)
Good to see you back in action, Bearman,
b:)
Wow whats the name of this show
When good food goes bad
Repulsive chef
Scary, Hairy Foods on the Go…
I need to go wretch…I will wait outside for the bookmobile in the meantime and I do mean
Zman sends