Throwdown! With Bobby Flay aka Punk'd 2.0

Bobby Flay does his best impersonation of Ben Roethlisberger at the clubbbbbb.

You know when you've had a long week and you're really looking forward to just relaxing on a Friday night? Your wife has plans to go out with the girls and you're left alone with a cheesesteak, a remote control and a freshly cleared out memory card for a new season of Fifa?  You even took some time to make transfer moves and update your game considering you still have Playstation 2 and play Fifa '08. And then all of a sudden, one of your friends calls you and says he has an extra ticket to the Sixers-Hawks game?

All you wanna do is stay home and take AC Milan to the Scudetto, but you can't pass up a free ticket to a game, especially because your friend is a lawyer and the seats are in the lower level and any game featuring Josh Smith carries with it the potential to see a guy jump over a whole 'nother guy. So you stick your steak in the fridge, put on some pants and head out the door to watch Lou Williams jack 20 foot fadeaways.

For the record, I have NO IDEA what this is like. I only have one friend who is a lawyer and he NEVER invites me to go to games, probably because I never shut up. Also, the last time my wife went out on a Friday night without me, I spent the whole time on boingboing.net looking at videos of squirrels eating stuff. 




The point is, when this wrinkle is thrown into your plans, you still end up having a great night. The game is cool, you feel like you're actually a part of the world and depending on how successful your lawyer friend is, you may end up at Delilah's Den making it rain drizzle. But really, all you wanted to be doing was just chillaxinating.

This incredibly long-winded four paragraph explanation describes how I feel about the chefs that Bobby Flay challenges on Throwdown. In every episode, The Food Network dupes a cook into thinking they're making a TV show about them, only to have Bobby Flay punk them and challenge them to a surprise competition (a throwdown!). The cooks are always excited to see Bobby, always up for the throwdown, but deep down I always feel bad for them, knowing that the show isn't really all about them. It's a show about them AND a red-headed dude who insists on putting "heat" in everything. "Today we're gonna be making a cold gazpacho ice pop, so I'm using some fresh imported glaciered ice from Norway, some cool mint and I thought I'd put in some of these nice pablanos from Taos, just because I once bought a really nice rug there."

Every show is pretty much the same, but I enjoy them all, especially when Bobby loses. Bobby always prepares his dish with a little cute wrinkle in it, because he knows that if he tries to recreate the meal in its traditional way, he'll have no shot. For example, if he were challenging Don McDick to a grilled cheese throwdown, instead of using white bread, American cheese and butter, Bobby would probably use Monterey Jack on a nice brioche with a little hint of magma.

Last night he challenged some lady to a pumpkin pie throwdown, which I was really excited about considering I love pumpkin pie. After the first segment, I changed the channel and forgot about the show, only to return 35 minutes later to find Bobby challenging some other lady to a carrot cake throwdown in the next episode. This was even more exciting because I REALLY love carrot cake and this lady was much more attractive than Mrs. Pumpkin Neck. Bobby of course got cute, funny and fresh and made his cake with marshmallow icing. The judges' decision was nerve-wracking and like always, I really wanted the challenger to win because it means so much more to them than to Bobby. Also, Bobby didn't even bother to paint little carrots on top which is ESSENTIAL for any carrot cake.

I won't spoil the ending for you, just in case you DVR'd it and are planning on watching it on Friday night when your spouse is out cheating on you.

Google image search: "Mrs. Pumpkin"

Lastly, I gotta just say that I don't get the whole "heat" thing with food. I know it makes me less of a man to order wings that are mild, but I'm sick of trying to be cool and ruining every Indian dish I ever order. I can't tell you how many meals I've ruined just because I was trying to impress a waitress. On the flip side, I TOTALLY GET the whole "cold" thing, like jumping into a freezing lake or watching football games in Ann Arbor. It's just a shame that Michigan football sucks. Fire Rich Rod already ... he's a disgrace!!!

Barefoot Contessa: Grilling an Entire, Whole Chicken

She's not even looking while she's cutting!

No show puts me to sleep quite like the 5pm airing of The Barefoot Contessa. Not because it's boring, but because Ina Garten's voice, kitchen and lifestyle is so tranquil that I uncontrollably lose consciousness and dream of dining in her backyard. It is by far the most relaxing half hour of my day (and that includes the half hour that I spend everyday playing my harp).

The other day I caught an episode where The Barefoot Contessa grilled an entire, whole chicken. She removed the back and breastbones with ease, slathered the chicken in rosemary and oil and just slapped it on the grill. It seemed so effortless that I figured I'd hop off the couch and try it myself.

Unfortunately, we did not have an entire chicken in our fridge, so instead I chose to make cinnamon raisin toast. Equally as delicious, but not nearly as simple. 

Any chance this guy lives next door to Contessa?

You see, one of the raisins in the bread got lodged in the toaster, forcing me to pry it out. At first, I kept slamming down and lifting the handle, trying to "boing" it out, but that just snagged the raisin more and ripped the slice apart. I then tried to play Operation with the toaster and burnt my fingers. Finally, I grabbed a pen and pressed it out, giving me three, mangled, 33% smaller pieces of cinnamon raisin toast.

When I went to lather on some cream cheese, I noticed that we had no clean knives.* So I took a fork (also dirty) and turned it around, spreading my cream cheese with the handle. This got the job done and I devoured my snack on the couch while Contessa finished preparing her meal.

Realizing she had an entire chicken to eat and no one to share it with, Contessa decided to invite her next-door neighbor Joan over. Now I'm not sure if her neighbor's name was in fact, Joan, but based on the fact that she had a sweater wrapped around her shoulders, her name had to be either Joan, Sharon or Corey Pavin.

Of course Joan came over, they ate an entire chicken and I fell asleep with crumbs in my beard.

When I woke up an hour later absolutely starving, I decided to go to Wawa, where I saw my next-door neighbor Bridgette. Bridgette was grabbing some Doritos and told me that she and her husband Dan were having "Burger Night."

"Burgers and Doritos, sounds perfect!" I said, giving her the clear opportunity to invite Dar and I over for a burg.

But did Bridgette take the bait? .................. No!

33% of a burg is not a lot to ask for

How hard would it have been for her or Dan to holler over the fence to ask if we wanted a burg?!?! It's not like we needed them to put out cloth napkins like Joan did. I didn't even need a napkin, Dan could've just shoved a burger through our chain-link fence! I wouldn't have had a problem with three thirds of a burger!

Well, I know who I won't be calling the next time I make cinnamon raisin toast.




(It's Dan and Bridgette.)

(Besides, then they'd insist on bringing over over their baby, Irene, and it'd be a whole thing with the baby and the baby would start barfing all over the place and that's just not relaxing at all.)




*This doesn't happen to The Barefoot Contessa. She always has loads of little glass bowls filled with herbs, and cute little measuring spoons and a cutting board that doesn't have an entire grapefruit on it from the night before. I'm starting to hate her.