Then Stepen Yan came. Great cook, amazing showman. Though halting and a tad broken, he spoke good English…and he was funny. He entertained while he cooked, blabbering his mouth like a market vendor, and jabbing his spatulas flamboyantly. In spite of all the showbiz he flashed, his recipes looked as appetizing as can be. Manila simply raved for Stephey Yan and his Wok With Yan show. Everyone wanted a Wok in their kitchen. That Yan was the Man!
When cable TV was made accessible to almost any home, cooking shows became a dime a dozen. The Food Network made a killing with all these chefs that showed off what they can show off. Various chefs who were funny, had panache, or was simply snooty, all vied for cable viewers’ attention. They exuded differing degrees of confidence and sometimes a bit of elitism.
Then Nigella came. All the qualities of a TV chef I have seen, viewed, critiqued, lambasted, and even cherished have hit a hard and high yet invisible wall. I was dumbfounded. She’s neither funny nor flashy. Truth is, I see no need for her to be. She had a face suited for royalty, eyes that saw through the camera and direct-hit any viewer, a body like a Greek goddess (Oprah calls her a Domestic Goddess), and a smile that could melt butter in a walk-in freezer. One episode I watched (and attempted to comprehend), she was mixing this and that, and preparing a bevy of ingredients. In the end, she showed a cake. I was staring too much! No wonder the TV show did a lot of close ups on the ingredients and the utensils. It is sooo hard not to stare at her! After every show, I’d end up feeling torn. I don’t know whether I’m hungry or turned on.
On occassion, I’d have the initiative and energy to prepare the cuisine I recently watched. Not with Nigella’s show. I can only gawk. My wife finds it amusing that I have a crush on her. Besides, she blushes everytime I tell her she looks like an Ilongga version of Nigella…but prettier.
