We're on a kick of watching Master Chef at night. We're almost done with Season 2, and there is a very arrogant and annoying guy on there that always comes *this close* to being eliminated but slips by. He always claims he's the best, he's going to win, no one comes close to his skills...blah, blah, blah.
Well, last night he made the final three by beating the other contestant in the "dreaded pressure test" by making a lemon meringue pie slightly better than hers.
We were highly disappointed. Shorty says, "If he wins, I am going to write to this show and complain." Now granted, I had been up with a headache since 3am so I hadn't had much sleep but I thought that was freaking hilarious. I could just see my husband sitting down with his poison pen:
I am filled with umbrage at the crowning of that douche Christian as Master Chef Season 2 (from a decade ago). It was "stunning", but not in a good way like that venison loin you prepared, but "stunning" as in those uncooked eggs Jennifer tried to serve you.
You sirs call yourselves experts in all things involving chefery, yet you seem to have a blind spot concerning a-holes. Please look in the mirror for reference so you will not make this mistake again. I am tasked with suffering through your many seasons with my wife because she is obsessed with competitive cooking shows and we've reached the bottom of the barrel. If I have to put up with seeing arrogant, pretentious, insufferable pieces of excrement continually win, I will. I basically have no choice.
Of course this hypothetical letter will only be written if said a-hole wins, and we will find out tonight. I'm not the type to go Google it and spoil the drama.
But anyway, as often happens, I see something on a cooking show and then I'm inspired so today I took out your Betty Crocker cookbook and made a Lemon Meringue pie.
I made cinnamon-sugar pie crust morsels just like you used to do. So yummy. I was thinking this has probably been a children's treat since pie crusts and moms were invented. These were probably a mom's version of a "hush puppy", but more so a "hush, and get out from under foot ya little rugrat".
Remember how I used to bake when you were at work and you would come home to a big mess but a (usually) delicious treat?
There was one time I made two pies. I think one was lemon, but I remember distinctly the other was chocolate. The lemon came out of the oven just fine, but that elusive chocolate one slipped from my grip and landed all over the oven door. Oh yuck! I was so discouraged and disappointed that you didn't even get mad at me for making the hugest mess of your oven.
Well Mom, until next time, love you,