Just when America is truly embracing the joy of cooking, you’ve become curiously preoccupied with eating out. I caught a couple hours of your programming yesterday afternoon, and I wasn’t very pleased. Watching Giada De Laurentiis salivate before the arrival of her scrambled eggs at a restaurant that wasn’t good enough for Rachael Ray hardly counts as service television. Besides, the only person who pulled off the “eating across America” formula was Alton Brown. Feasting on Asphalt may have been a travel show, but it least it had a theme and a host with a strong culinary vocabulary. By all means, give him a second run and spare us another jaunt with the Deen boys.

This brings me to my biggest gripe. I caught the commercials for you new show, Glutton for Punishment. Your website describes it as “a show for the impassioned foodie and the armchair adventurer – engaging stories, lots of practical information, and non-stop action.” Practical information, huh? The promo shows host Bob Blumer running while double-fisting red wine and inhaling habanero peppers. I’m not exactly an “impassioned” foodie, but even I know you can’t pass of frat boy stunts for gastronomic pursuits.

The funny thing is that you’ve always been the first to admit the significance of time in the kitchen. It’s where people spend time together, tell stories and, you know, make food. It’s where we fell in love, so why don’t you leave exploring Salt Lake City’s culinary highlights to your good friends at the Travel Channel and bake me a pie?

I hope you don’t take this the wrong way – I’m still a little bitter about all of this. I probably wouldn’t even feel this bad about our separation if we’d just grown apart, but I can’t accept any of the blame on this one. It’s not me, Food Network. It’s you.

Yours Sincerely,
Mikey

Filmed in Miami, in front of a surprisingly large audience of people who must have been pulled from the streets, TFNA and host Emeril honored people (living and dead), inanimate objects and even a city. Though there was relatively little attention paid to further glorifying the hosts of the network, each appeared to read poorly scripted dialogue from a prompter and showcase the nominees. If anyone felt a shiver run up their spine around 10:00pm Eastern last night, it was hell freezing over when my beloved Nigella Lawson introduced a performance by G Love & the Special Sauce. Nothing is sacred.

When it seemed like it couldn’t get more awkward than Alton Brown forgetting how to speak in the company Nigella’s heaving bosom – the honorees spoke. Had Burger & Fries been around to accept their award for “Favorite Food Combo,” I’m sure it would have been eloquent, but we had to settle for interviews with nominees like Jason Mecier. Jason was nominated for the “Play With Your Food” award, but sadly lost to a Jell-O Artist. His edible mosaics mainly focus on portraits of pop culture icons, but his noodle and bean work with television characters is particularly impressive. I’m not sure… how or why these people were nominated for awards, but there’s no way you could sit through more than ten minutes unless you were willing to completely resign to the arbitrary nature of the show.

As unnecessary as the whole thing is, it’s hard to deny an award show that seeks to honor the greatest food delivery service. And though I can’t imagine anything being better than the Bacon of The Month Club, if they had to lose, I’m glad it was to a hometown favorite. I don’t expect you’ll see this happening again next year, so be sure to catch the absurdity in one of the many encore airings that will pop up in the coming weeks.

But there is a hope. Like a culinary Jedi, having spent years gathering clout and polishing her skills abroad and on lesser-watched cable networks, Nigella Lawson has come to save the Food Network – liberating would-be foodies with her scandalous curves, mouth-watering dishes, a custom line of ovary-shaped cookware… and possibly witchcraft.

Mastering the art of audience seduction on the UK’s Channel 4 six years ago while US food personalities were still following the formula of The Frugal Gourmet, Nigella’s pioneering style of food TV came to us first as poor American knock-offs much like Cold Feet and Coupling. It’s clear now why the extreme close-ups, super-crisp sound, intentionally out-of-focus shots of hand washing and background porn-groove of shows like Everyday Italian felt smart but forced; they were being done properly somewhere else. To live up to production like that, a host needs a commanding presence. And as attractive and skilled in the kitchen as she might be, there is something incredibly awkward to Everyday Italian’s Giada De Laurentiis. Like the hot girl in marching band, she just doesn’t know what to do with herself.

At 47-years-old, with a more than generous helping of curves and quintessential Jewish features, Nigella isn’t exactly a textbook hottie. But with every devilish smirk, toss of her thick raven hair and whip-smart cultural or literary allusion she weaves into each recipe, you find yourself inching closer to the television. This is a woman you want to know.

A little research will show that she’s not just another faux-sexpot; in fact she’s probably toning it down for television. A writer, her editorial pieces that ran in the UK’s Guardian frequently demonstrated her laissez-faire approach towards love and sexuality. She even alluded to her own speculated bisexuality with one article posing the hypothetical “If I were lesbian…” And with a masterfully honed magnetism like hers, who would blame her for not limiting herself to men – especially British ones? I’ve yet to come across a person familiar with her program who, regardless of gender or orientation, hasn’t felt drawn on some level to share a bowl of soup and fall asleep on her bosom.

So I’ve decided to forgo Sunday brunch with real people for the time-being and spend even more time in front of the television. At 1:00pm you will find me nestled on the couch with a bagel and a hot cup of coffee – dreaming of the food I won’t make and the woman I never thought I’d want.