Well howdy-diddly, lovers! And what a glorious Wednesday it is! The sun is shining (not really), the birds are singing (hmm, well I’m sure they would if it wasn’t raining) and the best thing of all is the view of ZERO ADAMS as far as the eye can see!
Miracles, lovers! MIRACLES!
So last night was the night and Will and Steve came armed with Steve’s trademark Serial Killer sex-stare and Will’s ability to fall apart and forget the recipe for everything at the drop of a bonnet. Carol and Adam, on the other hand, came equipped with a questionable three-course plan and Adam’s best friend, Manu, on the judging panel.
Rico reckons it’s going to be a tough night for dear old Manu because the pressure is on him to be fair and impartial and show that those photos of he and Adam cupping each other’s balls was just a one-night thing that meant nothing.
Up on in the viewing gallery and Emma has dressed with the knowledge that the cameras are going to be spending 10% of the time filming the cooking and the remaining 90% in her face, and with some clever make-up, soft hair and Shaz standing next to her, it’s fair to say that she’s never looked prettier.
Anyhoo entrée time starts and Will and Steve are doing courgette flowers stuffed with a scary sounding substance called ‘goat’s curd’, while Carol and the future Mrs Feildel are doing scallops with some sort of Asian sauce they probably nicked out of Debra’s bedside.
On the boys’ side, Will gets straight into the fruit horror he has planned for dessert and immediately sets the stage for disaster by putting piping hot mixture straight into the churner. Meanwhile, Carol and Adam are debating just how much Miso should go in their sauce and whether tasting like Gravox is a good thing or just plain, trucking awesome.
As time ticks away there’s lots of fun to be had watching Steve pump white sauce into the vegetables and Will stare with complete bewilderment at the kitchen bench and wonder how the hell he strayed so far from investment banking. Over on the other side and Carol is getting rather stressed by the notion that they’re not going to be able to taste their complete dish, and if there’s one thing the judges are always yapping it’s trying your food, cooking with love and staying the fuck away from their dressing room at break times.
Speaking of the judges, they’re torn between worry at Will and Steve’s empty plates, and horror at Carol and Adam’s almost full ones.
‘I need the scallops Adam, I can’t plate the gravy without them!’ whines Carol.
‘That sauce should be the hero of the dish’ declares Shaz, who adds that even an ugly man goes up a few notches when you can taste the gravy stains on his lapels.
In the final seconds Adam finishes the scallops and Steve finishes everything else while Will flaps around the kitchen like a concussed albatross. Up on the balcony, however, Kat and Andre worry about Steve’s ability to rob them of $250000 while nearby Emma prays for the ability to rob Steve of his boxers and smuggle them into her purse.
In come the judges and, to the relief of the nation, Liz Egan is dressed less like a Monsters High cheerleader and more like someone we can listen to without flinching. Down they all plonk and first up for tasting is Carol and Adam’s scallops, which everyone likes with the exception of the mushrooms and the sauce.
‘A little bit of sugar would have been so great!’ gushes Skinny Pete, while the producers keel over in shock and Rico starts muttering about Terminators.
On to the boys’ stuffed zucchini flowers and it’s a gigantic love fest starting with appropriately-dressed Liz and ending with horrifically sexy Fergus and Rico marvels how anyone can get so enthusiastic over a dish not containing bacon.
On to the mains, though, and the Child Support Avoidance Ace and his newish, childless bride are working on a rather fiddly pork cylinder that will somehow be accompanied by an enormous also cylindrical vegetable.
But then the sounds of the kitchen are lost as Shaz’s eyes meet those of the vegetable and the Emma-Steve love story suddenly gets demoted to distant second place.
‘Who IS that?’ she cries out to Carol.
‘That’s daikon’ replies Carol. ‘Don’t mind him, he’s about to be diced up and served with another questionable sauce.’
Back over to the boys and there’s spatchcock cooking, two kinds of sauce (neither of which appear to be rubbish) and Will hovering over a pot with some carrots.
‘They have to infuse the flavours’ he worries, nudging them with his spoon. ‘Otherwise they’ll just be carrots and Steve won’t let me hold his wallet and talk to him while he’s on the shitter!’
Back over to Adam and there’s concern that his pork roll is sticking to the pan.
‘If the prosciutto comes away it will cook unevenly’ he tells Carol. ‘Not to mention look much less like a wang.’
Into the oven they go which leaves Carol to talk about their sauce and how it’s a bit of a strange combination of flavours considering one flavour is meat and the other can only be compared to rectal discharge.
‘We like it though!’ she declares, adding that ‘it’s a bit of a risk’, but then so was marrying a man who was happy to share the contents of his testicles, just not his wallet.
In the final moments and despite Will’s best efforts to cock up the carrots, their dish of spatchcock looks rather like something that Manu would order in a restaurant and then sneakily photograph to include in his next cook book. Carol and Adam’s doesn’t look nearly as pretty, especially with poor Daikon scattered to the four corners of the plate and Shaz weeping noisily from the balcony.
Once again, Carol and Adam’s is first for the tasting and while they all appreciate the cooking of the pork, not one person understands why Manu would want to expose his portly physique in tennis whites.
‘For the last time: it wasn’t meeeeeee!’ whines Manu, before adding that colluding with a contestant would be dumber than challenging Fergus to a glass fight. But still not as stupid as Bubba Yum Yum.
Onto Will and Steve’s and, according to Skinny Pete, this ‘is confident cooking’ and Manu ‘is a fat cunt’.
The other judges agree, with the exception of Manu, who says the carrots are undercooked and he may be overweight, but Pete is orangier than a curry flavoured popsicle and is about to become less trusted around babies than Rolf Harris.
Hmmm. He’s got you there Skinny Pete.
Anyhoo onto desserts and while Carol and Adam are still not shying away from food in the shape of boners, Will has taken centre stage with his ‘textures of blood orange’ dessert which is apparently some blood orange, a biscuit, some slop, some more slop and some more slop again – this time in a cup.
‘I think this is some of your best work’ says Steve without a trace of irony but obviously plenty of head injury.
‘You think so?’ asks Will, who is so thrilled by the compliment he’s prepared to overlook the fact that Steve can no longer master the peeling of a single orange.
‘What is he doing?’ comes the worry from the balcony, with the exception of Emma who could watch Steve fondle an orange all day, providing she has a nice soft place to lie and plenty of mobility in her wrist.
Anyhoo, it’s a quick sprint to the finish line and apart from the odd dollop of Rico swears is potato salad, Carol and Adam’s actually looks better than the boys’.
Madre de dios!
First up for scoffing, finally, is Will and Steve’s and Fergus makes the point that if this soft rubbish is the boys’ definition of ‘textures’, it’s probably perfect safe to say yes to a blow job. Liz goes one step further in describing the dessert as ‘confused’ and adds that it’s not the fucking only one when the first two courses were so good, and this is like something cooked by those Greek girls who barfed their way out of the competition.
Next up are Carol and Adam’s apple cigars with cinnamon ice cream and potato salad and Fergus is so thrilled at the thought of a dessert that features potatoes he threatens remove an article of Manu’s clothing every time someone tries to say that it’s apple.
Pete takes Fergus’ threat with due seriousness and says that it’s a shame they have to judge ‘it’ and not just Adam’s smug head and long trail of financially abandoned children.
Oh lovers, was there ever really any doubt how this would go? Of course not, and thus dawns another day of Emma Loves Steve on the back of a rather generous score of 47.
Carol and Adam, of course, now get to go home and face up to the largest, reddest bill (with the exception of Robert’s Tax one) in history, and try and work out whether, like Robert, they can get their own TV show to pay it off.
Rico reckons they are dreaming because where Adam once allegedly beat Agassi, Robert once definitely rooted his wife and the resulting offspring and her gravity defying inflatables are the real reason we’ll all be tuning in and clipping our toenails through all those cattle stories.
Until tonight and Kat’s Forehead The Sequel, lovers!