The charm of gastroporn on American television started to fizzle several years ago. A devoted student of the food network, I’ve held on, but the bulk of their programming has done nothing but disappoint. The Next Food Network Star has to be the least engaging reality/competition series to ever make it past its first season, the inexplicable persistence of Sandra Lee makes me doubt god completely and even my beloved Paula Deen falls flat in front of a live audience on her new show. Those of us who never thought the day would come when we’d rather watch the Weather Channel than listen to Rachael Ray’s androgynous bark are finally reaching our saturation point.
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.