While some people relax by zoning out in front of a little ESPN, or by turning on Seinfeld reruns, my go-to television relaxation channel is the Food Network. I adore the Food Network. I love knowing that even when there’s nothing else appealing on TV, Food Network will always be there for me, like a security blanket crafted from potholders, potatoes and Paula Deen. It’s comforting, mindless, entertaining, and I’ll watch almost anything they broadcast, from the uber-competitive Iron Chef to a comfy weekend in the Hamptons with Ina Garten; from the wacky science of Good Eats to the easy watching of Everyday Italian. I don’t get involved in the Rachel Ray bashing (I admit she’s overexposed and a bit cutesy, but I think her concepts are practical and well-executed) and I’ll even go Down Home with the Neelys.

But I have to draw the line somewhere, and there are two shows that drive me absolutely crazy, one for its utter lack of culinary content, and the other for its entirely obnoxious premise. Sandra Lee and Bobby Flay, this is for you.

Bobby, let’s start with you. I think you’re a fine chef; you seem pretty good at grilling things, and you pull your weight on Iron Chef. In fact, I had no problem with you until you somehow inexplicably came to the decision to bring the show Throwdown to Food Network. So, here’s my problem. Let’s say that on this particular episode you have Food Network call up some local gal whose oatmeal cookies are the best in all of South Dakota. They tell her that her and her cookies will be featured on a Food Network special about baking in the Midwest. She cries and exclaims that this is the best day in her entire life. Your crew shows up to film her baking her cookies in her backyard at her husband’s birthday party. All her friends and all the people from her town are there and they’re so proud and happy for this oatmeal cookie lady and her achievements in oatmeal cookie-making.

Sounds like a pretty feel-good premise, right? Oh, but then you have to waltz in and challenge her to an OATMEAL COOKIE THROWDOWN at her own husband’s birthday party. You, Bobby Flay, acclaimed Food Network superstar, feel the need to crash a local woman’s party to compete against her and have the results judged. AND you get to tell her that “Oh hey lady, this isn’t really about you and your talent, this is about ME AND MY EGO AND ME TRYING TO PROVE THAT I’M BETTER THAN YOU. You’re not getting your own segment on Food Network. You’re going to compete against me and maybe lose and be humiliated and then I’ll awkwardly give you a hug and return to my big fancy TV studio and leave you here in this cornfield. This is so much fun, right? You are so lucky I chose you to compete against me!!”

So Bobby, if I tell you that we all know that you’re famous and super manly and just the greatest chef in the whole wide world, will you stop traveling across the country to torment innocent American cooks?

Now Sandra, I don’t mean to be harsh but I simply don’t understand your appeal. I don’t hate you because you decorate your kitchen to match your outfit on every episode of Semi-Homemade Cooking. I don’t turn off your show because you feel the need to prepare an alcoholic beverage for every single event you cook for, including your two-year-old niece’s birthday party. My disdain doesn’t stem from the fact that you got your start creating something called “Kurtain Kraft” and selling it on infomercials, or even from the fact that you were nominated for a Daytime Emmy for “Outstanding Achievement in Hairstyling.”

Here’s my issue. You don’t do any interesting cooking on your show. I don’t even know if you can call what you do “semi-homemade.” Because you can’t just take a boxed cake mix, sprinkle a half a tablespoon of cinnamon into it and call it in any way homemade. Maybe, just maybe, you can call it “very very slightly homemade,” but mostly I think your entire concept is worthless. I don’t want to sit for a half-hour and watch you make mediocre food full of preservatives that 99.9% of people off the street could make by following directions of a box. Yes, maybe a lot of people cook that way these days, but that doesn’t mean you deserve a television show.

And the worst part is that you don’t cook like this because you’re lazy, or low on cash, or super busy. You cook terrible food because you SPEND ALL YOUR TIME AND MONEY ON TABLESCAPES, your arts-and-crafty, over-the-top table decorations. I can’t speak for all of America, but I know that if I came to a party at your house and was offered something you’d probably call a “Fancy French Canapé,” and then bit into it to discover that it was a Ritz cracker topped with a slice of cheddar cheese and a smear of Smuckers strawberry jam, and then looked across the room at your living room table covered with towers of hand-dipped candles, wrapped in lace and sprinkled with glitter and topped with hand-crafted 3D snowflakes, I’d be pissed. But at least I can count on the fact that there’d be booze, I guess…

About Jenn So

Jenn So is a senior Film Studies major who hails from a quaint town nestled among the pine trees of Maine. On campus, she is one of the head house managers of the Wesleyan Film Series. In Maine, she grew up eating her mother’s traditional Cantonese cooking and worked at her parents’ restaurant. This ignited her love for all things food and restaurant related. She has worked as a pantry chef in a French bistro and loves to travel and try exciting new dishes food from all over the world. In the recent past, she has tasted the cuisines in Australia, Thailand and China. After graduation, she hopes to roam the globe in search of even more delicious adventures.