Five ingredients

When I read that The Food Network was launching a new channel called The Cooking Channel, I panicked a little. I didn’t want anything to replace my favorite guilty pleasure. But the more I thought about the idea of having a “little grittier, a little younger” channel, the more I started to see the possibilities. So I brainstormed some improvements they should implement.

First, include actual cooking instruction. I’ve been watching The Food Network religiously for the past five years and printing off pages of recipes from the website, but I still don’t know how to properly chop an onion.

Second, put greater emphasis on international cuisine. Italian food is delicious and all, but, frankly, I’m a little bored. Giada, Mario Batali, Michael Chiarello, and a handful of other chefs have long represented the food-loving peninsula, and it’s time they move over and make room for the other 194 countries in the world. The Food Network has attempted to become more diverse by adding shows like Down Home with the Neelys and Viva Daisy, but Asian, Indian and Middle Eastern cuisine have gained in popularity but still haven’t garnered a slot on the network.

Third, show more cooking and less assembling. Let’s face it. Nobody really watches The Food Network to learn how to cook. We blissfully indulge ourselves in the almost pornographic act of watching people turn foodstuffs into a meal and then devour it (sensually, in Giada’s case). Then, we rush over to Williams-Sonoma where we buy cartloads of highly specific cookware that we won’t use.

Fourth, get out of your fake kitchen. There’s a certain level of comfort and aesthetic appeal to having a chef cheerfully cooking in a sunny kitchen and acting as if it is their own and not one of the many sets in The Food Network’s New York studios. But it gives me no clue as to what these chefs are actually capable of and what they do behind closed doors at restaurants. For once, I want to observe these chefs in their natural habitat.

Finally, realize that people eat with their eyes first, not their ears. For some reason, The Food Network thinks people want to see bubbly personalities that practically jump off the screen when, really, we just want to shut down our brains and ogle at all of the pretty food. Rachael Ray piling 25 ingredients into her arms isn’t that entertaining and Giada complimenting her own food is borderline obnoxious. That’s why when I’m in need of slipping into a visual food coma, I turn to the Barefoot Contessa and her minimal chit-chat.

Don’t get me wrong. The Food Network holds a special place in my heart, and I’ll continue to be a loyal viewer. But if it has to expand its business, I’d like to see it done right.


E-mail: pkansal@indiana.edu