MKR 2017: The One Where Henry the Truffle Farmer has Nice Tits

30 Jan

henry_li

Well, lovers, it wasn’t easy, but after 10 000 years and so many used balls Rico swore we were lost in a giant set of shared underpants, the Tennis finally fucking ENDED.

Seriously, though, literally well-played R-Feds!  For a codger on the fast bobsled to incontinence, you sure showed all those young whippersnappers that arthritic fingers are no hindrance to tearing a whole heap of new ones.  We just wish you’d do it a bit quicker next time.

Right here we go with the time-honoured tradition of all the teams being shoved through the revolving doors into the harsh glare of public scrutiny.  As happens every year there’s lots of squealing, lots of ‘we’re not in Tassie anymore’, and, in a special event for 2017, lots of David desperately wishing Betty would shag him.

More on that later.

After a montage that could rival the tennis in terms of LASTING FOR ALL ETERNITY, it’s time to meet Damo and Caz and remind ourselves that these are the couple who are not only chained to the grindstone of two small boys, but live in the part of Australia least likely to be wept over if it was boinked by a giant asteroid:  Tasmania!

Just like last year’s JP and Nelly, these two are the ‘sweethearts’ and that means Adriano Zumbo is waiting in the wings cackling like a maniacal goblin.  While Caz does something rather virtuous and wonderful with special needs children, Damo spends his days cresting the wave of electrical currents and, well, good luck remembering the correct way to cook steak.

Anyhoo, after a few more minutes banging on about the marvelous Tasmanian ‘produce’ that somehow escaped the rest of the State’s inbreeding program (or DID it?), it’s off to a truffle farm where the truffle farmer is called Henry and who has the voluptuous breasts of a man used to draping them in the softest cashmere.

Seriously: nice bristols, Truffle Man.

Leaving Henry with his tight cleavage stuffed with MKR truffle dollars, it’s off to the butcher for some meat and then Coles for everything else including the miraculous No Opening vege bag that has brought lesser creatures to tears and better creatures to use their fists.

Back home and because they’re running late they quickly hang a sign, throw a few guitars on the floor and reminisce about their first meeting which involved Damo playing on the stage, Caz being drunk onthe stage and then everyone evacuating the stage because no-one likes to play music in the white water rapids of too many Pina Coladas.

Time to cook, though, or at least you’d think, only – no – because precious seconds of playing with apples later and we’re off to the approaching teams.  Like Henry the Truffle God, Betty has her tatas out and if there’s any phrase that aptly describes them it’s ‘poor fucking David’.

Ding Dong!  Leading the charge into the house are midwife duo Jac and Shaz Karen and Ros who love everything babies and, by the looks of things, nothing dental work.  They also love wearing low-cut tops, going to the gym and adding those two things together.  Ros is also keen on the tandoori slather and Rico reckons if she whacks on any more layers, Donald Trump will be suing her for copyright.

karen-and-ros

Next to get a bit of footage are the brother and sister who look about as much like one another as Miranda Kerr and a collapsed scrotum:  Amy and Tyson.  He’s the ‘angry’ one, she’s the ‘bitch’ and together they look like the least invigorating television since Celebrity Splash.  Big shoes, guys.  Huge.

Next in our little game of get-to-know is Betty and the one man who will always love her from afar through a telescopic lens: David.  Betty’s tattoos have meaning and David DOES tattoos so they’re perfect, right?  Only not because while Betty’s mother has sadly lost her sight, Betty hasn’t – and Rico isn’t the only one who thinks David looks like the awkward product of a one-nighter between George Takei and Gary Busey.

Next are the hairy misters, Tim and Kyle – united in their mutual adoration of insisting to strangers that they’re not gay.  This involves, naturally, a steady diet of beer, chicks and more facial hair than a Ukranian waitress.  According to Tim, his dad is a chef.  According to Kyle, he learned his ‘moves’ in the kitchen when his mum was out and he’d sent the babysitter out for methamphetamine.

And finally it’s Bek and Ash.  Bek is the blonde who is a vet.  Ash is the brunette who is a dental nurse and who strikes fear into the hearts of Karen and Roz.  Bek says she’s an accomplished flirt and could do it with a pot plant if all the guitars were taken.  Together they fantasise about an MKR hook-up that ends with babies, rather than the restraining orders they’re accustomed to.   Luck, girls.  All the luck.

Right, moving on because it’s that time of the evening when everyone starts gushing over how Manu is hotter than a Jamie Oliver pan handle fired directly into the sun.  This of course cues the judges, and while Pete is dressed in sombre charcoal, Manu has shown up looking like a fancy woman’s throw pillow.

Ding dong!

In they go and while Betty faux swoons and Roz flushes a deeper shade of burnt umber,  Skinny Pete, always one to get the party started, says one team will be shipping off to the great reject pile in the sky at the end of the round – BUT NOT IN THE WAY THEY EXPECT.

While Rico and The Dog compete as to whose eyeballs can roll furthest back into their skulls, the teams open the menus and leave Damo and Caz to skip back to the kitchen and stare perplexedly at the truffles.

Enter Manu, who is drawn to the pointless and expensive, and wants to show the fabled Tasmanian Truffles the insides of his pockets.  Damo and Caz choose this moment to admit the closest they’ve come to cooking a truffle was a BILLION TRILLION LIGHT YEARS AWAY and that means this was one of those recipes they submitted throughout the interview process, but never thought they’d actually have to fucking cook.

‘Sucks to be you’ giggles Manu, and with one more deep snuffle, he pirouettes out of the kitchen and leaves them to the great unknown.

After a bit of debate between chunks and sprinkles, they decide to go with the precocious Mexican girl on the El Paso ad and do both.  Damo thinks this is the best course of action because that way if someone wants to chew a giant hunk of truffle like cud, well, the option’s there.

Out go the entrees and the lack of steam from even the judges’ plates tells us this soup has all the heat of a Guy Grossi pole dance.  Pete looks at Manu.  Manu looks at Pete.  David looks at Betty’s tits.  But suddenly Manu wants a favour from Damo and, to the shock of the nation, it isn’t to give his soup an extra 60 seconds in the microwave.  No, it’s another hundred or so dollars of flash git ingredient sprinkled all over his gazpacho.

With the waiter dismissed from the table, Manu says the truffle was good and next time to remember who paid for it.  Skinny Pete agrees and says if it weren’t for the fear of having something in common with Manu, he too would have snatched for the grater.

Around the table and the cold bowl of hard cash is such a hit with Karen she sprays half of it over the table attempting to give it a worthy compliment.  Amy and Tyson, naturally, disagree.  Something something raw garlic.  Something something it’s cold soup with enough to feed a family of 50 barfed all over the top.  Ok sorry that was us.

Right, back to the kitchen where Caz is working on the Bearnaise sauce while Damo sets his mind to leaving his cooking ability in his other pants.  That’s right kids, in front of our eyes he piles the cooked steaks into a skyscraper of meat and waits for the combined forces of aluminum foil and idiocy to work their magic.

Back at the table and Amy and Tyson have retreated to a little-known MKR universe known as Silence.  This all comes to a screeching halt, however, when Manu starts Steakgate and Tyson and Kyle square-off over their differing techniques.  Tyson, you see, is a student of the Drasko School of Being Pretentious With Everything and insists the only way is to sous vide.  Tyson, on the other hand, reckons you can never flip too much and backs up his statement with the first offering from the MKR cuss purse.

‘Ooh they’ve gone all caveman’ whispers Ash, but only because Kyle is A MAN and ‘snippy and girly’ isn’t nearly as rootable.

Back in the kitchen and Damo has realised he’s fucked the steaks so hard they’re still sharing a cigarette.  Out they go and, sure enough, Skinny Pete is displeased.  Still, it’s not all bad because Manu likes the Bearnaise sauce and manages to refrain from sucking the dregs from the ramekin.

Around the table and diners are torn between being disappointed in the steak and impressed at Kyle’s power to hoover up even the ropiest leftovers without so much as a single swallow.  Tyson, again, makes his dissatisfaction known and when Manu leans forward to question whether he’s ‘confident or over-confident’, the producers in his ear-piece tell him he’s being a very good little boy.

Talk then turns to the dessert which is the mutant step-child of a cheesecake and an apple crumble.  Tyson, oddly, thinks this is ‘safe’, but we don’t have that much time to think about it what with all the sinister close-ups of Kyle looking like the blow-up mattress version of Wolverine.

In the kitchen and they’re happy with their work and which is a sure sign this is about to go as pear-shaped as Manu’s trousers.  Out they go and while Tyson is, again, disappointed, Karen has to dig her nails into her thighs to stop herself embarrassing her ancestors.

The judges taste and at first it looks good, with Manu claiming to love the layers.  Things turn manky fast, though, with words like ‘dense’, ‘pasty’ and Pete claiming it reminds him of his former self.

Around the table and Tim likes ‘some of it’, Amy thinks it’s ‘haphazard’ and Karen wants to right-swipe it so hard her finger bursts into flame.  All of which means it’s time for people to yank out their scoring quills.

Despite being the most critical in terms of tonight’s edit, Amy and Tyson score a six – as do Karen and Ros and Betty and the man who fantasises about keeping her yeast in a jar:  David.  Less impressed are Tim and Kyle and Bek and Ash, who give fives instead and will never be judged harshly for it because at some point they’re going to kiss each other.

On to the judges and after an encore of truffle whining from Manu, it’s a seven and eight for entree, a six (Manu) and five (Pete) for main, and a five (Manu) and TEXTURE ICK GROSS THREE (Pete) for dessert.  Bringing the grand total to a respectable 62 and which has no chance of getting them booted because someone always, ALWAYS scores worse.

Next up to cook are David and Betty and David is mad keen to show Australia what he’s got in the hopes that at least one of them will tell Betty.

Until tomorrow night, lovers!

xo Flawless

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