Showing posts with label Top Chef. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Top Chef. Show all posts

Sunday, May 4, 2014

My Next Great Restaurant Concept: Wager

The dining scene in this country has never been more popular or competitive as it is now. Almost a decade into the Top Chef era, and nearly 20 years since Iron Chef (the REAL one) blew our minds, America's culinary literacy has never been higher.

That doesn't mean we are more sophisticated about food. We just think we are. As a result, we respond to concepts that play to this vanity.

Take food trucks. They're like fast food joints with the ambiance of a dirty street corner, and sit-down prices. The convenience and value are dubious, and the hours are erratic. However, for those who like their pozole served by a white hipster in a $1,000/sq. ft. neighborhood, there's nothing like buying it from a running truck (don't these people pride themselves on eco-awareness?) to make them feel like edgy barrio dwellers.

My new restaurant concept is all about harnessing ego.

It's called Wager, and the menu is nothing but dishes one would only eat on a drunken dare. Here's a sample tasting menu:

Appetizer: Raw radishes garnished with our house habeƱero salsa.

Soup: Geoduck stew

Entree: A 72 oz. sirloin, cooked so as to just take the chill off.

Dessert: An 8 oz. bar of 98% cacao chocolate.

This menu plays to the full range of drunken bravado. The appetizer is actively hostile. The soup is made from something that looks like a giant penis. The entree is a classic challenge food. As for the dessert, consumers have come to equate high cacao content with quality, and hence, will claim to like the chocolate, even though it tastes like ass.




Wager's hours will run from 10:00 PM-4:30 AM. The decor will be minimal, and bolted down. If you finish your meal in under an hour, it's free. Best of all, the maitre d will double as the house bookie, and will take bets on what your fellow diners can scarf down.

I think this could work, if only as a pop-up.  

Sunday, March 9, 2014

The Crisis of Conservation in Reality Television

Since it debuted in early 2012, Ink Master has been my favorite reality TV show. For those of you who don't (but should!) watch it, Ink Master is a competition in which tattoo artists compete by plying their trade on volunteer canvases. Their work is then judged by industry notables Oliver Peck and Chris Nunez, as well as collector and impresario Dave Navarro.

On Tuesday, the show will air the third episode of its fourth season. This means that by the end of the spring, Ink Master will have churned through 57 contestants in less than two and half years.

This production schedule is undermining the show. Though it's early, this season's field looks weak. The judges have declined to name a winner in either of the first two elimination challenges. The most recent episode ended with a contestant quitting after an emotional breakdown.

After Season 2, the viewers voted Katherine 'Tatu Baby' Flores to return for Season 3. A mercurial genius of deep imagination but erratic application; she rode her second chance to a third place finish. Though the judges gave the title of Ink Master to the consistent, workman-like Joey Hamilton, Tatu Baby won America's Heart twice over.

This season's fan favorite is the solid, but unremarkable Kyle Dunbar. Given his listed experience of 20 years, he is probably past his window to reach Ink Mastery.

All of this is to say that Spike has failed to conserve the Ink Master population. By spacing out the seasons, the network would allow the population of viable contestants to regenerate. Instead, they are left with a middling, underdeveloped crop of hotheads who don't live up to the legacy of Tommy Helm (who currently stars on Tattoo Nightmares), or Steve Tefft (the Season 2 winner, who's finale piece is a great example of Connecticut craftsmanship, which is why I'm including it below).



The more intelligent model is that of Top Chef. Although food service has a large enough talent pool to justify 11 seasons since 2006, the producers have mixed in five seasons of Top Chef Masters and two seasons of Top Chef: Just Desserts. Rotating these spin-offs keeps the flagship program's contestant cupboard well-stocked. In addition, it keeps the producers from running out of desirable host cities. No one wants to see a bunch of talentless fry-cooks gutting out a Doritos challenge on Top Chef: Cleveland.

Actually... Wait, they have that! It's called Hell's Kitchen.

 

Wednesday, July 31, 2013

A Six-Pack of Thoughts on Orange is the New Black

Apocalyptic Scenario: In the future, as traditional media apparati continue to be undermined by the abundance of free cat videos, amateur pornography, and crackpot social philosophy, professional writers, performers, and thinkers will be need a new way to be seen and heard. Like late-Romans fleeing to the protection of large landowners as a last resort against the violence and chaos of imperial decline, so will our great men and women of culture lean on the stability of beer sponsors to provide what production companies and publishers cannot.

In this new feudal context, the six-pack will become the base unit of intellectual life. At Psychoeuphorology Today, we're not waiting around. To kick things off, here is a six-pack of thoughts on another new media bellwether, Netflix's original series Oragne is the New Black.

1. This show is a nice bounce back from Jenji Kohan.

Weeds was a strong show in its first few seasons, but declined after the burning of Agrestic. The erratic and ridiculous plot lines had a lot to do with this, but the creative vision of Jenji Kohan played it's part. The characters she created were too static to transcend the show's initial premise. Though initially compelling, the lack of character development and formulaic plot arcs gave the show a Scooby Doo like feel, but without the jangle-pop chase songs.

Orange is the New Black avoids this problem, in that it is limited by our heroine's prison term. The plot arc is preset by the true story on which it's based. I expect this show to run for a tidy, well-received two seasons that will leave its audience satisfied, and not wanting more.

2. The Netflix production model really works

Given the size and scope of their operations, TV networks are forced to manage the risks of original progamming in the traditional ways, namely, overpaying stars, rehashing successful show formats, and casting a wide audience net. These production techniques make for an expensive and unreliable insurance policy, as shows meant to appeal to everyone often end up pleasing no one.

Netflix's is a subscription service which allows users to pick their content. Because of this, it can defer risk using the opposite approach of lowering costs and green-lighting projects with more defined appeal. The biggest stars in ONB are that chick from That 70's Show (not Mila Kunis, the other one), and Jason Biggs. Good writing is cheap, good acting is expensive. Netflix may have shelled out for Kevin Spacey in House of Cards, but expect them to make low-budget projects the backbone of their production efforts.

3. Speaking of J-Biggs...

Biggs bring his mastery of the mindset and mannerisms of the Upper-Middle class Jewish male to a dramatic context, as the protagonist's faithful but conflicted finacee.

Though leaning on his usual bag of character acting tricks, Biggs brings maturity and perspective to his role. Like a fine wine, the kid from American Pie becomes more nuanced with age, while retaining his basic nature. On the whole this is his best work since Saving Silverman.

4. For a Based-on-a-True-Story Prison Show, This One Was Kinda Fun

The most compelling aspect of the show is the mix of prison grit with lighthearted elements. The prison is based on the Federal Correctional Institution in Danbury, CT; which is the low-security Federal prison where the real Piper Kerman served her time.

The violence in ONB is a far cry from the naked brutality of a show like Oz. The diversity of the inmate population at times gives the show an odd-couple flavor as the hardcore lesbians, softer-core lesbians, Hispanic moms, kitchen workers, Christian fundamentalists, etc. work through there uneasy coexistence.

Though there is violence, there are also charming moments, such as when a guard attempts to portray our sweet-hearted, lotion-making heroine as a stone-cold rapist to a group of Scared Straight teens. Prison shows are typically grim. This one is more of a black-comedy.

5. You've Got Tiiiiiiiiimmmmeeeee!

Each episode is kicked off by, "You've Got Time," which was written and recorded by Regina Spektor to serve as the show's title theme. Title scenes are an under-appreciated part of TV Magic, but when done right, they add context and counterpoint to the show. The best recent example is the pulsing, animated devolution which opens up Mad Men.

"You've Got Time" emphasizes the primal frustration that underpins the monotony of minimum-security prison life. It takes on new meaning as each episode bleeds into the next over a marathon viewing.

Going back to point #2, I think we'll see more theme songs from high-profile musicians. Commissioning a few quality verses is cheap compared to hiring Charlie Sheen, and it improves the show's quality while bringing in that artist's fan base.

6. I Think It's Obvious What Comes Next...

You may remember that in the 1970's, it was common practice to produce one-off specials in which different shows (usually animated) 'meet' each other. The most famous was The Flintstones Meet the Jetsons.

In ONB, the kitchen is a center of inmate life. It performs a vital function as it's staff work with substandard tools and ingredients to feed a crowd. In the process, pride is wounded, power is brokered, and the peace hangs on a thread. In other words, it's perfect for...

Season 2 Episode 1: Orange is the New Black Meets Top Chef

The Top Chefs are faced with their toughest challenge yet, as they are taken to a real prison cafeteria where they must use the equipment and ingredients provided to create a gourmet meal for hundreds of inmates. Things get bloody when some of the mouthier contestants mix it up with some of the mouthier inmates. The episode takes a delicious turn when Padma and Piper are caught naked in the shower enjoying a whole different kind of lunch.

I'll pick up my Emmy whenever it's convenient.