Well here we are folks back in good old Towomba and ready for a second serving of Sheri and Emilie’s Granny on a Spit! Will this be the restaurant with the HIGHEST SCORE EVER, asks Voice Over Man?
No, according to Rico, because unless they’ve changed their aged care facility theme restaurant to the flowers and lights we saw on the ad, that lovely little honour is still going to Emma and Anal Jane.
Speaking of the other teams, Eva and Debra are planning on rooting so hard for their BFFs that Eva thinks they’ll need a stunt double. Debs reckons this is just plain silly because if things go they way they did last time, they’ll have oodles of time between courses to towel off and suck down a Gatorade.
Anyhoo, our gals Sheri and Emilie are convinced today is going to be a vast improvement, because today they have a detailed PLAN consisting of missing ingredients, racing back to the shops, and playing Willy Wonka with granny’s favourites.
Off to the shops they go and the first stop is the butcher who looks like he spent the night in the meat locker with a bottle of Bundaberg. A bag of shanks later and it’s straight to Coles for the rest of their ingredients and some fondling of the elderly – because Emilie just can’t help herself when they’re right in front of her and too frail to struggle.
The menu is mushroom crepes, followed by ‘deconstructed lamb shank pie’ that makes Manu overuse the ‘why’ word, and raspberry and rhubarb upside down cake which Emilie claims comes straight from the pages of granny’s cook book.
Back from the shops and it’s time to set up the dining room by getting rid of all their nice things, and moving in all the stuff from the roadside collections. The finishing touch, of course, being a couch that looks like it’s spent its very long life being rooted on by teenagers.
Happy with their efforts it’s into the kitchen they go where Sheri ticks off the first item on her PLAN by discovering the red-faced butcher butchered their shank count.
‘We’ve only got twelve!’ she bleats, before noticing that the rest of them are as misshapen as a bag of Manu’s privates.
According to Rico it’s all their fault for turning up to the butcher’s shop with a camera crew and not giving him the time to run a brush through his back hair and pop a wig on.
Anyhoo, after a quick muddle with some puff pastry that she claims never to have made before, Emilie races back to the shops giving Sheri the time to discover more missing ingredients.
‘Boom boom SHANK SHANK THE ROOM’ howls deaf Emilie, while her phone rings and Sheri collapses in a corner of the kitchen moaning about the buttermilk.
But here’s the butcher – or rather a NEW butcher, because the old one’s been dragged into a back room and beaten with a lamb carcass.
The new shanks in her fist, Emilie pauses only to pat the head of mean-eyed granny before finally seeing the fifteen missed calls on her phone.
‘It’s enough for a restraining order’ admits Sheri, which Rico says is totally true – particularly if it’s filed against Emile by the pensioners of Coles.
‘We need butter milk!’ shrieks Sheri.
‘Buttered hulk?’ enquires confused Emilie.
‘BUTTER. MILK!’ howls Sheri, realising for the first time why Emilie’s granny slipped her a megaphone and a packet of Valium prior to their first cook.
When Emilie finally makes it home with the missing ingredients, Sheri motors to get the lamb in the oven leaving Emilie to get on with her first attempt at puff pastry and the other teams to come rolling down the street.
‘Pretend everything is fucking FINE!’ bellows Sheri.
‘Pretend we’re totally pissed on wine’ repeats Emilie, and off they go to the door.
As they come spilling in, Debra reiterates the fact that they are going to be scoring like a pair of sixteen year olds high on their first tab of Ecstasy, while Nikki (who is worryingly dressed like Shaz), thinks Towomba is awesome because people beep their horns at her rather than just pelting her with Starbucks.
In to the dining room they go and Raggedy Evil Annie just LOVES how retro it all is, because won’t that mean all the food is past its use by date? She also loves the ‘cuddling couch’ and Rico mutters that the only reason anyone would stay on that thing long enough to cuddle is if they are too arthritic to leap off it and straight into a scalding shower.
After the usual ‘we love grannies’ speech, Emilie and Sheri hop back to the kitchen to get on with some cooking, while the rest of the teams ‘get to know’ Annie and Lloyd.
‘I love Disney and pink and making balloon animals in the shape of executed Australians!’ trills Annie, who adds that PS, she is Lloyd’s first girlfriend.
Katie, who can’t remember her 100th boyfriend let alone her first, can’t understand it: partly because Lloyd looks like Annie’s younger, non-redheaded brother, and partly because Annie seems about as sane and marriageable as a possessed baboon.
Back in the kitchen and Sheri and Emilie have got themselves into a fight over the crepe filling.
‘It tastes grainy’ worries Emilie.
‘You’re imagining things’ snaps Sheri.
But before they can get into the kind of scrap that usually ends with Emilie’s hearing aid across the kitchen and Sheri minus her top layer of teeth, here come Pete and Manu!
Into the dining room they go and Emilie repeats that their love for old people goes far beyond the bounds of decency and ends somewhere in realm of sexual atrocity.
‘Bravo!’ cheers Manu, who adores depravity in all shapes and sizes – especially when initiated by a young, attractive blonde person.
While the girls head back to the kitchen, Eva starts banging on again about how she and Debs have no intention of viewing the food through anything other than PERFECT TEN coloured glasses. This gets Katie wondering if she should try and get them onside – which won’t be easy considering Nikki has a face like an unimpressed hairdresser.
“She totally does!’ giggles Debra and Rico mutters that Resting Bitch Face may make children cry, but Laughing Retard Face traumatises a nation (see: Abbott, Tony).
But here come the entrees and no sooner has Manu dived in then he’s telling the girls they have dragged him squealing delightedly back to his chubby childhood.
‘Hooray!’ trill the girls, but it’s a little too early because neither judge ‘gets’ the salad and that means back to the drawing board, granny.
‘I. Was. Not. Expecting. That. At. All.’ mopes slow-talker Sheri, and Rico murmurs that – and this may be a little sudden – he’s fairly certain Sheri is a whiny little bitch.
Out in the dining room and Debra is gushing so hard half her crepes have ended up in Andre’s face. Annie, on the other hand, is confused by the honeyed nuts and – excuse her exquisite cuntiness – but HER granny wouldn’t touch this crap with a barge pole.
Back in the kitchen and the lamb shanks are doing their falling off the bone thing and Sheri is annoying Rico by comparing herself to alcohol.
‘One is sweet and intoxicating and the other is in the sauce!’ she chirps, failing to mention that the one outside of the sauce is also dangerously close to being punched in the face.
Onto the pastry which is the key to turning the shanks into a ‘deconstructed pie’. But what’s this? It’s cracking and not sticking together and when Sheri wonders what has gone wrong, Emilie admits that she maybe, kinda used a shortcut.
Back in the dining room and Lloyd is on his hands and knees digging himself a shallow grave that Annie will soon be dumping his lifeless body into.
‘With all Katie and Nikki’s meat knowledge…’ he begins.
‘I mean, with everything Katie and Nikki know about meat and how to – Ah fuck it’ he mutters, bracing his nuts for Annie’s fist.
Back in the kitchen and the pastry has defied expectation and started to puff. Unfortunately for the girls, it comes out tasting like the kind of biscuit cowboys make when they run out of sugar and cooking expertise, and because they’ve used the P-word on the menu, they’re obligated to stick it on the plate.
Out they go and Annie comments that it’s ‘a big piece of meat’ and dares Lloyd to open his Katie and Nikki-loving mouth. Of the others, Emma thinks it looks great for a lamb shank, while Kat thinks it’s about as deconstructed as a port-a-loo with a tradie still doing a dump in it.
According to the judges, a pie it is not and the term ‘deconstructed’ is a wank word invented by palsied chefs who can no longer place lasagne sheets one on top of the other. Still, they both like the meat and although the pastry reduces Pete’s ability to speak, Manu is still capable of making a point about how much he loves Sherry – especially all over his hairy body accompanied by a hearing impaired blonde friend.
While the girls head back to the kitchen, Deb announces that this wasn’t just a lamb shank with a circlet of milk arrowroot, this was THE BEST MAIN IN THE WHOLE COMPETITION!
‘Bitch, please!’ mutters Kat, Andre, the Dog, Skinny Pete and everyone else except for Manu, who is busy wanking, and Rico snaps that if Debs was only a little further up the girls’ backsides, she’d be much easier to look at.
Back in the kitchen and Emilie wants to do her granny’s recipe justice by using frozen raspberries and under-cooking the creme anglaise.
But what’s this? For some reason Emilie had the oven on BLACKEN rather than BAKE, and if she hadn’t checked the cooking half way through, the whole lot would have been screwed.
‘I’m here for you!’ consoles Sheri, while Emilie paces around the kitchen. ‘Or do you want me to panic and fuck up our chances of $250 000 along with you?’
But the panic isn’t over, because when they flip the cakes over, there’s barely enough fruit to coat the back of a teaspoon, let alone Manu’s chin, and because the cake is harder to swallow than a serrated blade, they have to haul ass to whip up some kind of sauce.
As they walk the plates out Sheri tries to console Emilie that her granny will be proud that they ‘got something out’ – and so what if she doesn’t return her calls and writes her out of the will in favour of a gardener called Bevan?
The judges taste and Manu says that while sponge and raspberry is traditionally a nice balance – this is like a toddler trying to play see-saw with Lynn and Tony.
‘Is dis good enough for a cooking competition?’ he wonders, before adding that, with a nice cup of
tits tea – yes!
Skinny Pete, who is always grateful for desserts too disgusting to wake up his old fat-self, gives them only a little grief about the anglaise and says that ‘with a little tweaking’ they could probably make his nipples stand out from his shirt.
Around the table and everything thinks it’s drier than saw dust with the exception of Debra who thinks the COMBINATION of textures is better than sex with a Snickers Bar. It’s no surprise, then, that they give an overall score of 8 – double what they scored Annie and Lloyd – while the rest of the table offers up sixes, a seven, and – from the Mystic Hollow and her eager-to-be-strategic beau – a four.
Onto the judges who give sevens for main, sixes for dessert and a four (Pete) and five (Manu) for dessert.
‘But that’s not fair!’ complains Rico of the dessert, while the Dog points out that a lot of things aren’t fair, including not one of the guests diagnosing Manu’s Resting Perve Face.
Next up are Detective Rico’s predictions of Highest Score in MKR History: Jane and Emma. Will he be right, lovers? Or will he be forced to drown his feelings of inadequacy in boxed claret and donut holes?