Food

MasterChef 2021 Ep 4: Chicken Or Egg Elimination

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Top Image via Twitter

First Elimination… let’s be honest: all anyone cares about today is whether Trent will go up in flames (again) or actually cook something decent. I do have a couple of questions about Elise’s dress though: specifically about the bananas on it. And why is Andy looking fancy today? Did I miss something? Are we to be put through another Katy Perry episode? (please no)

Okay no, the camera went a bit wide, and I’m back to thinking that whoever dresses Andy should be fired. It’s not as jarring as Matt Preston’s sartorial choices, but at least they had personality, even if said personality was obnoxious.

In Round 1, the contestants have to cook a dish featuring either a chicken or an egg. Of course they leave Mel to dress up this very boring challenge up in not-boring words, but that’s pretty much what it is. Is the new first step to being Australia’s MasterChef showing that you can be Basic AF?

First time we see Trent in the episode, he says he’s ‘gagging’ to go into the MasterChef pantry. He also drops some whisks or something. Hot Mess Express is leaving the station!

DEPINDER IS MAKING CHICKEN BIRYANI OMG OMG

QOTD: Does she put elaichi in her biryani?? I’ll be keeping my eyes peeled.

Andy would simply roast chicken on the crown? This man basic. Jock’s not much better. Omelette in 75 minutes??

Eric is a pure baby! Polite doctor who can cook? Indian parents’ wet dream right here.

“Better get flubbing!!” Shouts Mel. I think she’s speaking Australian for a second before realising that everyone is as confused as I am. This is a relief, but also a matter of concern because if Melissa stops making sense then they might as well cancel this show altogether because no one will understand anything at all.

Justin’s gone over to the dark side: he’s using the hibachi. His flashback shows a whole bunch of people sitting and eating together… it feels like decades ago. Clearly I have not aged well.

Trent is making egg tarts. Of course, he says ‘chicken’ right after he says ‘egg tarts’, which is… concerning.

Melissa questions whether Maja’s beetroot fresh egg pasta features egg enough, so she adds a carbonara sauce. I thought carbonara was more cheesy than eggy, but she’s the cook, I guess? Will be keeping an eye out for this one.

The Hot Mess Express is really bringing the mess, with custard leaking out of the tart shells in the oven. I’m literally walking to the alcohol cabinet right now. Come on man.

Back to Depinder, and she’s like:

Sab changa si!!

Amir’s freaking out about the water for his pasta. With all the cool gadgets they have on the show, why not an electric kettle for each contestant too? I have never understood this.

Trent’s egg tarts are sticking to the tins like they’ve imprinted on them, and he’s just got one decent tart to serve. Why is he like this.

Time’s up, and Perfect Man Eric is up first to the tasting table. He’s cooked enough for five, and it looks yum af. You have to listen to his description your yourself. It’s poetry.

Perfect Man getting more perfect by the minute.

Depinder next! I’m not even surprised that the judges love it because… I mean. It’s biryani. Quick biryani. Coal and ghee-smoked quick biryani. This girl is a genius omg. Perf.

SHE ADDED CARDAMOM! HA! Brb I’m gonna go rub this in my brother’s face.

(Her second happy dance looks like my aunt trying to hold her pee though ngl)

Justin’s up next, and he doesn’t know if his hibachi-d whole chicken is cooked through. Oof. Jock is utterly non-committal as he cuts into it… and it’s perfect!

This show has more drama than a 90s Karan Johar movie ffs pls stop.

Also this. Oh, Trent.

So the bottom five- Trent, Dan, Yo Yo, Amir, and Linda- now have to cook with whatever they didn’t choose in Round 1. Yo Yo, Amir, Dan, and Trent get chicken, and Linda gets eggs. Up on the gantry, the rest of the contestants are clucking and freak out about how it’s all ‘so real now’.

Trent’s going for a chicken-lemon myrtle combination. This looks promising, but I’m more interested in Amir’s shawarma. And also Amir’s glasses. And also Amir.

Trent says something about Christina Aguilera, and then horrifies Connor by putting lemon myrtle everywhere. This is worrying, but also not surprising.

Yo Yo’s making kung pao chicken with rice, while behind her, Dan gives the gantry a real show with a knife and some unfortunate green.

At least Trent didn’t do a Poh and forget to turn on his pressure cooker. His chicken is done, too, which is also a relief. Linda’s overcooked her confit egg and decides to poach one with like 4 minutes to go. More power to her, I guess, but also she doesn’t have a choice.

Time’s up, and Amir goes first. That shawarma looks delectable (yes I am only looking at the food). I want it. (Still only looking at the food…)

How does Mel eat with such poise and still look like she’s enjoying the food? I need to take notes. Also, she’s happy dancing at Amir’s food, so I think it’s safe to say that he will live to cute another day.

(Jock and Andy like it too)

Dan of the knife skills is next, with a chicken Rou Jia Mo, or a Chinese hamburger. It’s apparently one of the oldest versions of the hamburger, so please, America, pipe down. Yo Yo brings in her Kung Pao Chicken next, which looks fancier than any takeaway Kung Pao I’ve ever had. I’m jealous.

Next up is Linda with the doubtful egg, and I’m a little antsy. But it looks like the poached egg has worked out, judging by Mel’s reaction. You go, last-minute Linda!

Trent tootles in with his lemon myrtle chicken, and my heart is in my… well, still my chest, but it’s still beating moderately fast. He does the requisite sucking up by professing to love native ingredients (camera cuts to Jock because did you know Jock cooks with native ingredients?), and then chuffs out to let them eat.

You know what? Everyone should listen to Connor because that is wayyyyy too much anything in any dish. There is literally this weird lemon-myrtle under-skin under the actual chicken skin and… I guess we know who’s going home, right? The only question is whether Mel will roast him like a chicken or just let him off easy. Not sure which one I prefer tbh. Am I here for the food, or am I just here for the drama?

Trent makes some speech about having learnt so much- not sure how much you can learn in two days and three different cooks, but okay. I feel for the guy, though- it’s not easy to have lived up to a moniker like “Hot Little Mess”, special emphasis on ‘mess’.

As the Hot Mess Express leaves the station for the last time, Linda is trying really hard to squeeze out a tear. Think of your kids, Linda! In seriousness, Trent, it’s been real, and hopefully you come back at some point later (assuming they’re doing that this year).

MasterChef Australia Season 13 is currently streaming on Disney+ Hotstar for Indian subscribers.

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MasterChef 2021 Ep 3 Recap: Queen Emelia’s Mystery Box Challenge

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Top Image via Eminetra

Okay, I’m doing it. This desi girl is doing her own MasterChef Australia recap series. And not even from the beginning! It’s a go with episode 3, in which our 24 new hopefuls finally cook in the MasterChef kitchen for the very first time.

Look at them all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. It’s like me on the first day of kindergarten.

IT’S AN EMILIA MYSTERY BOX! Last year’s champion enters like the queen and conqueror she is, and I literally squeal. It’s past midnight here in Bangalore. When this season finally airs in India, I just know my mom is going to smile at Emilia like she’s her own daughter. I’d feel replaced, but honestly? Yeah.

All the contestants are, naturally, also squealing.

Aww, she’s pregnant! Jock goes for the obvious ‘mini-choux in the oven’, but personally, I prefer Emilia’s own ‘heir’ reference. This is her kingdom alright.

Anyway, she runs through the mystery box ingredients: saltbush (do you know Jock cooks with them? Do you?), silverbeet (because it’s ‘average’, apparently, idk, I’m Indian), dark chocolate and cherries (duh), potatoes, pistachios, a homage to her super-sexy finale dessert (which she won on), Sichuan peppers, because finale main (which she won on), quail as a throwback to that Suburban Week mystery box (which she also won), and finally, Barramundi.

(Yes, Emilia won MasterChef 2020, why do you ask?)

After Andy explains the rules of the Mystery Box (in case there is one person left on the planet who doesn’t know how a MasterChef Mystery Box works), Mel drops the real bombshell (apart from her earrings. And Emilia. And Emilia’s heir. And Emilia’s earrings): they’re cooking for the only three Immunity Pins of the season.

Ooooh, shiny.

And then Jock drops another one: this year, you can use an Immunity Pin at any time during an Elimination.

Yeah, I’d cook up a storm for that.

Trent the pastry guy/Duracell Bunny is doing his ‘Black Forest’: a tempered chocolate log around a pistachio diplomat cream, with macerated cherries, cherry coulis, saltbush something, chocolate something, ganache something, and something crumb. It sounds a bit Reynold, which is to be expected since the ghost of Reynold has lingered in this kitchen since his Season 7 debut until he returned to turn it into a towering legacy last year.

Trent sounds very confident, though he also slops some of the cream onto his apron. Gotta say, that is thick. Is it supposed to be that thick?

No, I don’t know. Who d’you think I am, Reynold?

(Expect a lot of Reynold mentions. He’s a bit of a family favourite)

Hi Kishwar! I first heard about this Bangladeshi-origin contestant on the wonderful Nabela Noor’s Instagram, and I loved her audition. Is it the sweet mum energy? Is it the ‘small dream’ of writing a Bangladeshi cookbook? Is it just my curiosity about how Bangladeshi food is different from Indian Bengali food? Whatever it is, I love her. Also her dish sounds gorgeous, 10/10 would hog.

Therese says she’s feeling the pressure, but she’s also giggling and doing a thumka and making jokes like ‘whisky business’ (not a typo), so she’s like those girls at school who talked about “blanking out” and still got 95/100 in all exams. I’m not sure about this one, guys.

Jock and Andy bonding over the Pin. They’re also walking around tag-teaming like all last year. Do they need an intervention or a bromance ship name? Jandy? Andock? Please suggest

Oh god. The hibachi.

(I’m ready to godspeed the hibachi right out the fucking door)

Arreyyyy, there’s a Punjabi in the house! She’s a baker? I did not see that one coming. I obviously need to do a lot of work on confronting my stereotypes.

She’s making choux pastry. For Emilia. I just… I can’t. I want to write an exhortation in Punjabi, but all I know are prayers and swear words, so… godspeed.

Is Elise the new Laura? References to nonna, now ricotta… honestly, there aren’t many better MasterChef alumni to take after. Laura is, after all, the bomb.

Mel’s uplifting quality is clearly undissipated by the disaster known as 2020. Honestly, five episodes into season 12, it was hard to remember a MasterChef that did not have Melissa Leong. She (and her earrings) are literally the best thing to happen to this show.

Trent is going on about knowing German. Does he also know that he’s got chocolate on his apron now? He’s struggling with the tempering- he’s literally sitting in the fridge now to try and get the temperature down. Jock offers him some words of wisdom that he’s obviously not going to take because he’s a self-proclaimed “Hot Little Mess” and right now he’s really leaning into that.

Poh had the emotional and cultural capital to do this. Trent is… just a mess. I like him, but there are ten minutes to go and I’m not nibbling my nails, I’m rolling my eyes.

Tommy is a sweetheart. I can even forgive him for saying the word ‘hibachi’. There’s something so endearing about a cook who loves their food.

Kishwar didi is doubting herself again. Please no! You are amazing and that looks drool-worthy.

Trent has gone from “I’m gonna get that pin” to “Gotta get something on the plate”. This is gonna be hard to watch.

Halfway through the tasting, they call Kishwar, and she looks so scared. I hate this. How can someone so talented doubt herself? Who cares about fancy? She looks like she’s waiting for the axe to fall…

…Only for roses to rain down! Everyone loves it! Kishwar is smiling! I’m tearing up. I want my mom to see this.

Hot Mess Trent is up. This is going to be really hard to watch.

…It is worse. Melissa lays down a few harsh truths about the difference between “being a punchline and being a player”. This is horrible. If Melissa Leong said those words to me in that order, I would fling myself onto the nearest hibachi.

Honestly, the rest of the episode is tame after this: some hits, some misses, Therese, Elise, and Wynona win the three Immunity Pins, and automatic immunity from the first elimination of the year which is…. tomorrow. Am I a tiny bit salty on behalf of the resident desi girls in the house? …Yeah. If Kishwar gets eliminated tomorrow, this cute new venture of mine will walk out the door with her.

MasterChef Australia Season 13 is currently streaming on Disney+ Hotstar for Indian subscribers.

Day 5: Tempest and Tranquillity

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“Sometimes I feel like my life is someone else’s dream”~ ‘Let Them Eat Chaos’, Kate Tempest.

Last time, I told you about Nabokov, the man who squeezed the bottom of my lungs and forced a gasp out of my throat. This time, let me tell you about hypnotism.

It’s not of the slow you are getting sleeeeepy pendulum kind. I wasn’t sleepy. I was awake, alive, and frozen.

When Kate Tempest said Imagine, I did; when she said Jemma and Ester and Pete and Zoe, I saw them come closer and closer and melt into my limbs. I’ve no doubt that if she’d said we stand here and grow roots, I’d have stood up, grown roots, and become an amaltash tree.

Kate, do you realise that you gave us no choice?

I sat there, breathing only when I heard her breathe into the mike. That was the only chance I had to catch my breath, as she piloted us, brakeless, weightless, into a journey from which we all came back more than a little ragged. A little broken in the best possible way.

I come away from this year’s Jaipur Lit Fest with books, few photos, and other things more important- Lila Zanganeh’s happiness, Kate Tempest’s chaotic brilliance, Sholeh Wolpé’s sweetness, Rosalyn D’Mello’s courage, among others. I leave with more goals, a desire to build and grow, to engage in passion more. I leave with the idea of working at writing, of getting better by working harder and every day. A lesson at once simple and confusing.

I leave with a knowledge of living with people I don’t know, in an unfamiliar family scene. I came expecting a hotel, and when I found a family home, I was shaken and a little afraid. But somewhere in between my first makki ki roti and preparing the child for an upcoming test, I found comfort, and a space that I could, for five wonderful days, call my own.

I leave hoping to come back some day. Hopefully, soon.

Lunchtime Rhapsody

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I smell it before I enter the room. Heck, I smell it before I leave my room. Truth is, I left my room because I smelt it.

We’re rice eaters most of the time, our sort of traditional South Indian Tamil Brahmin (this is where a select few of my friends scream ‘pseudo!!’), and I’ve been reared on rice. God, that makes me sound like livestock, but whatever.

My sight fixes on the fluffy white rice in the cooker, while my olfactory senses are preoccupied with the tangy smell of imli (tamarind) rising from a bowl whose lid is askew. So very deliberate, mom. You know I’m not going to come late with that smell soaking the air in the house. The vathakozhambu (think of it as a thick, spicy gravy with vegetables that we mix with rice) that my mother makes is, quite simply, the stuff of dreams. 

Another smell catches my attention and I lift the cover of the adjacent bowl. Baingan ka bhartha (smoked eggplant). If I wasn’t before, I must be drooling now. There are jackfruit chips too! I saw them! And the curd- thick and creamy and cold, like the true curd only North Indians can understand (even if I normally think of them as cuisine-challenged weirdos, I will always choose their curd over our Southern, very runny version). And my mother, who has lived in North India for fourteen years (and counting), understands both our food and their curd: a deadly combination which will probably result in my becoming unsexily fat, and disturbingly uncaring of the fact.

Hastily, I pile my plate with food, only shouting for my big, hungry brother to come for lunch after I’ve taken all I want. 

I wipe my chin, fully aware of the small grin on mama’s face. Oh god, I really am drooling. 

And with good reason too.