What is it about college kids and The Food Network? So maybe you won't admit to yourself that you get a kick out of watching Iron Chef and Molto Mario. I, on the other hand, freely concede that I often find myself entranced while watching people who actually know how to cook, drooling uncontrollably. To clarify, I am doing the drooling, not the people on T.V. But seeing a chocolate cake come to fruition or sweating out the final moments to find out "whose cuisine will reign supreme" is compelling programming. The Food Network manages to combine food and television into a product that is clearly aimed at starving and malnourished college students. Much like Temptation Island and Blind Date, The Food Network is televised crack, except that it increases your appetite and is slightly less addicting.
Of course, I wholeheartedly condone trashy television and outright condemn freebasing cocaine, but for our purposes, I think the analogy holds. In any case, The Food Network has provided hours upon hours of entertainment for college kids who didn't feel like studying for their Orgo and Physics exams.
Worsening the matter is that college kids (or maybe it's just me) have a soft spot for watching infomercials, particularly those pushing a kitchen appliance. If I had any money that wasn't already going toward my excessive weekend expenses, I would have paid those three easy payments of $49.95 for a Flavorwave Oven. Let's get one thing straight: I make a mean chicken Shake 'n Bake, and my DiGiorno pizza is no slouch either. But the prospect of taking a frozen steak out of the freezer and having warm, edible moo meat on my plate just 20 minutes later is nothing short of a miracle. A frozen 10-pound turkey in just two hours! Frozen! Of course, if I followed through on every infomercial impulse, I would be the very proud owner of a Juice Man, a set of Ginsu 2000's, the complete line of fine Ronco products (pasta maker, food dehydrator and Showtime Rotisserie), the whole family of Foreman grills, T-Fal Infusion cookware, an even bigger gut and a much emptier bank account.
Clearly, I was not meant to cook. Nor was I meant to be able to dance or be a male model, but those are genetic problems that no classes or lessons will ever remedy. But I do want to learn how to cook. I think I have everything it takes to be a good cook, actually. I like eating food, I like smelling food, and I like looking at food. I don't like doing dishes, but that's what those pledges that I don't have are for.
The people I know order out way too much. I know because I'm usually eating with them. And now with campusfood.com, we don't even fight over who is going to call, although I kind of miss the three-way rock-paper-scissors. Having other people cook your food and bring it to you is easier than ever, but I want to get my hands dirty. But while registering for class last week, I distinctly noticed that "Apartment Cooking 101" is not among next fall's course offerings. There is a need for cooking knowledge on this campus that only one entity can fulfill. The Food Network must take advantage of its college audience and open cooking classes at campuses around the nation. It would be a perfect opportunity for the network to get feedback directly from a key segment of its audience, and I would finally expand my cooking repertoire beyond Macaroni and Cheese and salad in a bag. And I just don't know what I'd do if Bobby Flay or Morimoto came as a guest lecturer!
Cooking is one of those essential skills, like driving a car or sleeping through class, and I truly feel that college students are in dire need of a proper education in this lost art. In conclusion, The Food Network, Blind Date and Ron Popeil are good, crack is bad. You shouldn't do crack, m'kay.
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