In the kitchen: Ellie Krieger

No one really likes to feel like they’re being scolded. If people aren’t eating as well as they should and are devoting too much time to sedentary activities (watching television, for example), they probably aren’t going to plop down on the sofa in front of the Food Network for a reminder, are they?

Healthier cooking doesn’t have an illustrious history in food television. I think executives feel a certain responsibility to provide programming that promotes it, but it’s hard to find the right balance of educational and entertaining, without sending the associated message that network darling Paula Deen is trying to kill you every time she empties a jar of mayo to make a salad.

Past attempts have fallen into some readily identifiable categories. I remember some PBS cooking shows that fell very much into the scolding category, with hosts who pretended they were speaking to a like-minded audience while sending coded disapproval to the people who were actually watching them simply because the show came on after Julia and Jacques and they were too lazy to change the channel.

Then there was a brief wave of shows on the Food Network featuring fad chefs. Low Carb and Loving It tried to capitalize on the Atkins wave without success, coming just as the Atkins backlash was gathering momentum. Calorie Commando had the production values and vibe of an infomercial and focused too much on the mathematics of nutrition; if people aren’t interested in fresh vegetables and exercise, you certainly won’t sway them by adding a lesson in caloric algebra to the equation.

So what about Ellie Krieger, host of Healthy Appetite? Does this registered dietitian avoid the pitfalls that seem endemic to the category? And does it matter?

Pros:

  • She’s not big on reproducing unhealthy foods by substituting ingredients, a strategy that rarely ever works anyways. Instead, she focuses on bold flavors combined into easily reproduced recipes.
  • She avoids scolding in favor of informing. She highlights the nutritional benefits of the foods she’s preparing in comprehensible ways, pointing out what they can do for the body rather than giving viewers impression that they’ll drown in your own fat if they don’t change things right this minute. Her strategies are achievable.
  • She doesn’t dwell on calories at all, in my experience, concentrating more on packing dishes with nutritional value and flavor.
  • Cons:

  • She’s not an especially charismatic television presence.
  • Her portion sizes are generally sensible, but they don’t make for very gripping presentation. Her recipes sound tasty but can look lost on the plate.
  • Summary:

    Free of diet-fad gimmickry and schoolmarm severity, Krieger seems to have found the best approach yet to presenting healthy cooking on television – combine nutritionally packed ingredients in flavorful ways and portion them out reasonably. But she’s book-ended by chefs who are unfettered by anything resembling nutritional conscience who can provide the escapism factor that’s an essential ingredient of this kind of programming. I hope she succeeds, because she’s miles better than any of her predecessors, but I remain unconvinced that she can stake out territory on a landscape slathered with room-temperature butter.

    In the kitchen: The Hearty Boys

    The success of Bravo’s Project Runway was bound to trigger attempts at imitation, so it wasn’t surprising that the Food Network put together its own creativity competition, The Next Food Network Star. It wasn’t especially riveting, as you can’t exactly cast your lens on inter-contestant bitchery when you’re hoping to slide them into the void that will be left after Rachael Ray’s inevitable nervous collapse.

    As a result, The Next Food Network Star was pretty boring, certainly in comparison to Runway clone Top Chef. (Unfortunately, the second season of Top Chef has focused almost exclusively on inter-contestant bitchery at the expense of anyone actually cooking.) But the first season did at least introduce the Hearty Boys, Dan Smith and Steve McDonagh, who now host Party Line.

    I’d be lying if I said that the fact that they’re a gay couple didn’t have anything to do with my happiness with their success in the competition. And I do think they won it on merit. They showed the fastest learning curve of any of the contestants and had an appealing on-camera dynamic.

    But Food Network stardom is fickle. Why the network even bothers with a competition is beyond me, since they’re introducing new hosts all the time as it is. It would be going too far to suggest that the path to fame is littered with the corpses of past next Food Network stars, but the network doesn’t seem to be too inclined to hand-holding or patience. If you catch on, you’ll be plastered all over the place. If not, well, here’s the number for your local PBS affiliate.

    There are encouraging signs for McDonagh and Smith. They’re in their second season, and production values have improved markedly since the first. (Their original set was only a few rungs up from that cheap kitchenette where poor David Rosengarten didn’t even have a functioning sink during the early years.) And the guys are fun.

    Pros:

  • Most of the Food Network hosts are solo acts, so co-hosts make for a nice change of pace, since neither of them is Jack Hourigan.
  • Their dynamic is conversational and funny.
  • I’m an appetizer hound, so I like the focus of their menus.
  • They round out their menus with complementary, no-effort items. Their spreads never seem stingy.
  • They offer useful entertaining tips and serving suggestions.
  • Cons:

  • Is there a worse time slot for a cocktail-friendly show than Saturday morning? Chances are better that viewers are recovering from their last bash than planning their next.
  • They could pull back on the joviality a bit. They try a little hard sometimes.
  • Remember that episode of The Simpsons about Homer’s barbershop quartet and the part where they came up with the name? The same rules apply to “The Hearty Boys.”
  • Summary:

    They’re fun to watch and have the potential to carve out an interesting niche in the Food Network line-up, but they probably can’t rely on the network to help them too much.

    In the kitchen: Sandra Lee

    I thought it would be easy to evaluate the cheflebrity of Sandra Lee, of Semi-Homemade fame. Her approach and aesthetic make her the anti-Martha, and for everyone who rolls their eyes at Stewart’s parchment-paper lined rigidity, there are plenty who will view Lee’s unnatural acts with envelopes of powdered ranch dressing mix with equal disdain. (Seriously, I think most people who cook regularly rest somewhere in the middle of those two extremes.)

    So why is it that I’m suddenly feeling reluctant to dole out too much mockery on a person who has actually taken a store-bought apple pie, crumbled it into packaged whipped topping, and layered it between strips of baked phyllo? What’s not to mock about that?

    For one thing, it isn’t like Lee has invented the “pimp my can” style of cookery. While James Beard and Julia Child were popularizing gourmet techniques, Poppy Cannon was dousing dubious ingredients with liqueurs and setting them ablaze in an attempt to make them more festive and glamorous. (High standards and derision for “home economists” aside, Beard himself shilled for Green Giant.)

    And while episodes of her television show can inspire Mystery Science Theatre-esque home viewing, there isn’t a whisper of cynicism to Lee’s presentation.

    Pros:

  • She seems absolutely sincere in the belief that her food is delicious, her decorating ideas festive, and her economies of time and money valuable to her audience.
  • She does not want for confidence, which is good, because any cracks would make the whole thing fatally uncomfortable.
  • “Cocktail time” really is the best time of the day.
  • Cons:

  • Some of her economies are patently false. Packaged flavor mixes are ultimately much more expensive than a decently stocked spice rack, and some of the mixes have really unpleasant additives and ridiculous quantities of sodium.
  • Seriously, she crumbled up a store-bought pie as an ingredient in a dessert, taking a perfectly good prepared dish and turning it into something needlessly complicated and, frankly, a little scary.
  • She is leading the charge in the degradation of the martini. If there’s a war on Christmas, there’s certainly a war on this innocent, uncomplicated libation. Nothing that includes pumpkin pie spice as an ingredient can be called a martini.
  • Summary:

    A lot of Food Network’s programming focuses, if not actually on a gourmet standard of cookery, then at least on higher-end preparations and ingredients. Not everyone wants to work that hard or spend that much, and given the popularity of Lee’s lifestyle products, a lot of people buy into her approach wholeheartedly. So while I personally would probably never try and replicate one of her recipes at home and I watch her program with horrified amusement, I think it’s great that not everyone has to have a pot of fresh rosemary on their kitchen windowsill to play along. She believes in what she’s doing. It’s not for me to wonder how.

    In the kitchen: Michael Chiarello

    Michael Chiarello is one of those Food Network celebrities who seems not to have quite taken off. He has one program, Easy Entertaining, and doesn’t seem as entwined in the Food Network subculture as others. He’s not a utility celebrity like Tyler Florence, and he seems largely immune to the star-factory quality that has overwhelmed some otherwise innocuous tele-chefs who suffer through the overexposure.

    This might be because he’s occupied elsewhere and is perfectly content with his current level of activity and exposure. It could also be because he doesn’t quite click with viewers. I can buy either explanation, though I do like his menus a lot.

    Pros:

  • I really like how he breaks down menu preparation, letting home cooks know what they can do well in advance of the event. The aspect of time management makes his recipes seem much more achievable.
  • His recipes are that nice combination of interesting but replicable – great flavors that might not immediately occur to a home cook, but nothing so complex or technical that it’s just an invitation to vicarious drooling.
  • He likes gray salt. That says good things about a person.
  • Despite being in a comparative foodie paradise, the Napa Valley, he doesn’t come off as intractable about ingredient quality or prone to use esoteric items that most viewers can’t find at their grocery store.
  • Cons:

  • I think he tends towards smarminess. He’s just… really pleased with himself.
  • While I always like it when these shows actually show the event in progress, I get an unmistakable vibe that somewhere, just off camera, there is a bowl full of the guests’ keys that will be randomly redistributed later in the evening.
  • He’s the founder of “Napa Style,” which sets off my twee alarm.
  • Summary:

    As a cook, I like his approach and his flavors. As a television personality, I find him a little off-putting. I might have to give a closer look at his cookbooks to see if I can get the information and recipes without the smarm.

    In the kitchen: Ina Garten

    Ina Garten is an odd sort of food celebrity. Her on-camera career began with some very endearing guest appearances on Martha Stewart Living. During these visits, Garten came off as funny, easygoing, and enthusiastic. (Of course, just about anyone standing next to pre-incarceration Stewart would seem comparatively ebullient.) I’m guessing that many people, myself included, watched Garten liven things up and said, “She should have her own show.”

    Now she does. It’s called Barefoot Contessa after the Hamptons specialty food store she used to own. And I don’t like it very much.

    Garten is much better as a foil for another personality than standing alone in front of a camera. She’s better now than she was in the early days of her show, when her unease was just palpable, but she still doesn’t seem to have fully mastered the art of treating a camera as a conversational partner. She’s more fun when people stop by to kibitz.

    Pros:

  • Her menus almost always sound comforting. I particularly like her preparations for vegetable sides and salad combinations.
  • She really relaxes when other people are around, whether they’re dinner guests or her adorable homunculus of a husband, Jeffrey.
  • She’s a strong advocate of mixing a little coffee in when you cook with chocolate, which really does heighten and deepen the flavor.
  • Cons:

  • I don’t think that a television cook has to underline or over-articulate safe food handling, but I do think they should at least model it, and I really wonder about Garten. I’m sure lots of home cooks level off dry ingredients with their fingers and use the same measuring spoon in both dry and wet ingredients, but it bothers me to see a food authority do it. Nothing can match the horror of watching her prepare an entire meal, from aromatics to vegetables to loin of pork, on the same wooden cutting board.
  • I’ve never seen anyone so stingy with pepper. Seriously, she makes Betty Crocker look like Emeril Lagasse.
  • She prepares a lot of big slabs of meat, fish, and poultry, which isn’t so bad in and of itself, but her preparations fall into the “intuitively obvious” camp.
  • She advocates white chocolate, which I despise. It’s like solid sun screen.
  • She really isn’t that comfortable when it’s just her and a camera but seems to insist on trying to appear breezy, which can compound the unease.
  • She often ignores the fact that not everyone lives in a well-to-do enclave packed with specialty food stores, fresh seafood, and organic farms specializing in heirloom fruits and vegetables and organic poultry. I’m all for promoting those products, and I’m glad that access to them is getting easier, but it never hurts to suggest alternatives.
  • Summary:

    Maybe Garten shouldn’t have her own show. I think a “Cooking with Ina” program would take better advantage of her on-camera strengths, and that a roster of guest chefs might help widen the scope of her fairly routine menus. And one of them is bound to tell her to use a damned butter knife when measuring cake flour.

    In the kitchen: Giada De Laurentis

    In addition to comics, one of my pop-culture obsessions is cooking programming, good and bad. The Food Network pulls out all the stops during the period between Thanksgiving and Christmas, so I thought I’d take a look at some of their celebrity cooks.

    First up is Giada De Laurentis, a California-based personal chef and caterer and host of Everyday Italian. As the show title implies, De Laurentis specializes in casual Italian fare.

    Pros:

    • The flavor combinations of her recipes generally sound very appealing, and they run a nice gamut from hearty and comforting to light and refreshing.
    • While none of her recipes demand complicated techniques, they don’t fall into the trap of the intuitively obvious, either. She generally offers interesting twists on familiar favorites.
    • She favors fresh ingredients but isn’t intractable about their superiority. It makes her arguments in favor of them more persuasive because she resists the urge to make you feel like a terrible person for not having an herb garden in your back yard.

    Cons:

    • While her shows tend to focus on meal menus, her preparation sequence doesn’t always make sense. She’ll sometimes present meal components in the order in which they’re eaten as opposed to the order they’re most sensibly prepared.
    • I will never understand the Italian fondness for the combination of chocolate and citrus, particularly orange. To my palate, it starts as an unpleasant aftertaste and goes downhill from there.
    • She seems to be sliding into the Rachael Ray slot of “hopelessly overexposed Food Network ingénue.” In addition to Everyday Italian, she hosts Behind the Bash and has a new travel program on the horizon. Given that Ray’s career trajectory has led me to start hating Triscuits, I would rather Food Network put the brakes on the gathering Giada-thon.
    • De Laurentis is an appealing, easygoing presence when she isn’t looking into the camera. When she does go eye-to-eye with it, she bares a terrifying, over-whitened pageant smile that is more menacing than endearing. It may well be genuine, but I find it disconcerting all the same.

    Summary:

    Of all of the Food Network chefs I follow, De Laurentis offers the largest number of recipes that I actually use. I like her flavor profiles and find the recipes to be clear and usable; they’re also flexible enough to allow for modification and experimentation. Her cuisine isn’t earth-shatteringly innovative, but it isn’t banal either. Just sheathe those choppers.

    Slice and dice

    I haven’t seen For Your Consideration yet, but I know what movie I want Christopher Guest to make next: something about celebrity chefs. In the most recent episode of Top Chef, the competition centered on a luncheon being hosted by the wonderful Jennifer Coolidge, and it all just became so obvious.

    Catherine O’Hara as a frosty, control-freak Martha Stewart type… Parker Posey eviscerating perky Rachael Ray… Coolidge sloshing her way through a parody of Paula Deen… I would watch it a hundred times.

    Based on the hit manga…

    Speaking of Nodame Cantabile, it seems to be enjoying a bump from the release of its TV drama adaptation. ComiPress shares the latest Tohan Top 10, and Nodame occupies three spaces on it, with the most recent volume just ahead of the first and third. It’s like the Cartoon Network Effect, only with live actors.

    And what does the Daily Yomiuri think of that program?

    “[I]t displayed potential for the first 15 minutes.”

    In other multi-media news, Anime News Network notes the joyous arrival of the Sgt. Frog anime in February, and that the invasion began a little early.

    And last but not least, that trailer for the Death Note sequel is really, really creepy. But so is the trailer for the first one.

    Soap-er-heroes

    I love Tom Spurgeon’s run-down of the super-heroic episode of Guiding Light and wish there was a similar look at the comic from a fan of the soap. As someone whose been an excessively dedicated fan of both soaps and spandex, I’ve always thought there were a lot of similarities between the two.

    1. A shared universe of a repertory company of characters that can be put into service of a variety of stories. The citizens of Pine Valley and Springfield really aren’t all that different from the denizens of the Marvel or DC universes. While relationships are the general driver in soaps, your average daytime ingénue can reasonably expect to be thrown into stories centered around crime, health issues, law, politics, the corporate world, the supernatural, or what have you. As with Spider-Man or Wonder Woman, the consistent element is (hopefully) the character you accompany as opposed to the specifics of the plot.
    2. A subsequent tendency for the audience to wonder just how so much can happen to one person. Admittedly, it’s easier to reconcile in comics just because of the ground rules. But if you count the times that Erica Kane has been married, kidnapped, drastically changed careers, discovered secret offspring, been accused of murder, been a target of murder, etc., the average super-hero might consider their lot rather quiet in comparison.
    3. Dead doesn’t always mean dead. There’s a revolving door to the afterlife in daytime dramas, too, and fans don’t seem to take it any more seriously than devoted Marvel or DC readers. From my days on soap message boards, reaction to a character’s demise almost always included some speculation on how (and when) it would be undone (the “closed casket” theory). While it’s usually the baddies who seem to have a round-trip ticket from the great beyond, I remember hearing about a character on As the World Turns who was killed, with her head removed and shrunk after death, who later returned to town fit as a fiddle.
    4. It’s not easy being a woman. Both soaps and super-hero comics make uncomfortable use of rape as a plot development. In comics, it’s troubling because the victim is largely secondary to the experience; it matters more because of how the men around her respond. In soaps, it’s usually troubling because of its function as a redemptive event for the victim. The formula generally involved an interesting bad-girl character played by a popular actress. To move the character into a more heroic framework and generate audience sympathy, the writers would craft a story where the character is brutally victimized, creating a clear break between the character’s function as a romantic spoiler to one as a heroine. A smaller subcategory in soaps is when rape (or more frequently stalking) would result in romance between the victim and attacker. In this case, chemistry between the actors would lead the powers that be to reconsider the dynamic between their characters to capitalize on a popular pairing. General Hospital’s Luke and Laura is the premier example of this.
    5. Shifting creators. Just as a familiar property like the Avengers can take a long journey of creative stewardship from Stan Lee to Steve Englehart to Kurt Busiek to Brian Michael Bendis, soap operas cycle through a similarly closed set of executive producers and writers, some of whom are viewed with a virulent distaste that would make even Chuck Austen blanch in sympathy. In my experience, the Chuck Austens of the soap opera world are soap-hopping head writer Megan McTavish and executive producer Jill Faren Phelps, but the roster is always growing. Along the same lines, a single character can be played by several different performers over the course of the character’s “life.” So it’s rather like seeing Spider-Man being drawn by a number of different artists, with subsequent modulations in character. (Of course, several different actors don’t generally play the same characters at the same time.)
    6. Reverence for the pioneers. If super-hero comics have Lee, Jack Kirby, and other defining creative voices, soaps have their own set of revered ground-breakers. And yes, fans do often suggest that these pioneers (like Agnes Nixon and Doug Marland) would tear out their hair if they could see what was being done with their creations, even if they’re still alive and can probably see very well what’s being done.
    7. A big bust. For super-hero comics, it was the speculator era. For soap operas, I believe it was O.J. Simpson. Coverage of Simpson’s trial led to what seemed like months of preemptions, which led a significant chunk of the soap opera audience to find alternative forms of entertainment. Many of those fans have never returned, and the audience levels have never regained their pre-O.J. levels.
    8. Crossovers. Characters do move from soap to soap. After the cancellation of Another World, several cast members moved to another Procter and Gamble property, As the World Turns. Characters rack up frequent-flyer miles between The Young and the Restless and The Bold and the Beautiful, as both are produced and were created by the same powers that be. ABC, which produces its own soap line-up, has staged major events where characters from, say, All My Children show up on One Life to Live, and these visits have significant consequences on ongoing stories running on the show they visit. This was about as popular with fans as you might expect.
    9. “It’s only…” This is more a message board phenomenon, but it’s virtually identical between the two fandoms. If there’s a turn of events that leads to audience outrage (generally springing from mangled continuity, an ill-conceived storytelling stunt, or a radical reivision of a long-standing character), someone inevitably shows up to try and deflate the reaction with the ever-unpopular “It’s only a soap opera” or “a comic” argument. And saying something along those lines isn’t ever welcome in a category-specific forum.
    10. A stereotyped fan base. I really don’t have to explain this one, do I?
    11. Quality = cancellation. The phenomenon is more frequent in super-hero comics, because it’s more of an effort and expense to launch a new soap opera than a comic, but no daytime drama is held in as much esteem as the ones that aren’t on the air any more. Just as fans mourn brilliant-but-axed comics like Chase and Young Heroes in Love, you won’t have to search hard to find a soap fan who insists that no show will ever be as good as warped, experimental Santa Barbara was in its prime. (In fact, you won’t have to search any farther than me to find a person who’ll say that.)

    Blood test?

    Is another example of the Cartoon Network Effect in the making? ICv2 announces that Cartoon Network has added Blood+ to its line-up, most likely during the Adult Swim programming block. ICv2 thinks the Blood: The Last Vampire franchise has legs:

    “It has the kind of highly detailed backstory (stretching back to the early 19th Century) that fans love, and it has spawned three different manga series and two novels, which, if the anime proves popular, should find their way to the North American market.”

    But does the Effect apply to prose? Dark Horse has Blood: The Last Vampire: Night of the Beasts, a novel by Mamoru Oshii, though I could swear I just saw it relisted in a Previews catalog. Viz has published one of the manga versions, though I can’t seem to find it in their on-line shop. It is in stock at Amazon and Barnes & Noble.

    I can’t seem to find much information on the other two manga series. Anyone know if they’re different adaptations of the same story, or are they sequels or “set in the same universe” deals? Could there be another Train Man scenario coming, with different publishers vying for different Blood manga?

    In other news, ADV has picked up the rights to the anime version of Chevalier D’Eon. The manga version will be released by Del Rey.