My Kitchen Sucks

Sooo, My Kitchen Rules.  I know I started talking about this a few days ago, but I didn't really have time to say much except something along the lines of 'Old people get humiliated!' and 'Holy shit it's awesome!'.  I can be extremely eloquent when I put my mind to it.  Anyway, did I mention that it's awesome?  Holy shit.  It's awesome.  I don't know if this is just me (probably not), but when I watch these reality competition shows, it totally inspires me to try whatever-it-is that's happening on screen.  Like, Project Runway gets me all excited to make clothes.  When I watch Shear Genius, I want to cut hair.  During Idol, I'm an aspiring singer.  The Amazing Race gets me all pumped to run around some field in Europe and get smashed in the face with a watermelon.  And So You Think You Can Dance?  No, I don't.  But I'mma shake my ass around the living room anyway!
My Kitchen Rules follows this same pattern.  It's 7:30?  It's Tuesday night?  Damn, lets do some cooking!  So last night I felt like pizza.  Being that my parents seem to survive almost solely on breakfast food these days and appear to have forgotten that I do still live here, our house is pretty lacking in basic pizza-related ingredients, but I wasn't about to let that stop me.  Obscure-Ingredients Pizza?  Challenge accepted!  So first I cooked some chicken with onions.  We didn't have any tomato paste, so what did I use on the base?  Aioli.  A-whati?  I have no idea, but it was in a jar, it was in the fridge, and the expiration date was still reasonable, so on it went.  And every pizza has cheese, right?  Let's throw some cheese on there.  Then I baked it for 10 minutes, pulled it out and poured sweet chilli sauce over the top.  The result...well, it looked interesting.  I can tell you now the only time I've ever been more inventive in the kitchen than this was one Saturday night after a few drinks when I invented a new flavour of pasta sauce called 'Capsicum Banger'.  Don't ask.
Anyway, back to the pizza - MKR was starting just as it came out of the oven, so I quickly cut it up and ate two pieces during the first segment.  Then, during the commercial break I went to the bathroom and shit three bricks.
No, okay, only kidding.  I'm a lady, and ladies never shit bricks.  But I certainly wasn't well.  Between the onions and the sweet chilli, I...no, just no.  But I think it's safe to say I will never be a contestant on My Kitchen Rules.  Unless they do a series where every challenge is salmonella-related.  That, I would absolutely dominate.


I don't consider myself an expert on the English language, but I feel pretty consident when I say 'shit a brick' is one of the most disgusting phrases out there.  Hilarious, sure, but disgusting.  It's not something I use often.  Apart from two paragraphs ago.  Other than that, one of the last times I said it was almost three years ago in a text message to my friend Jordan:


Dude!  On my way to the tattoo place and shitting bricks!!


There was a five minute pause, then his response:


Well...make sure you clean up after yourself.


I think I actually threw up on my phone.  What a horrendous visual.  Maybe not as horrendous as the realisation that what began as an innocent post about reality cooking shows has now become a one-woman conversation about poo, but still.  I propose the expression 'shit a brick' be removed from the English dictionary altogether.  Or at least, restricted to use on the weekends.  And/or when you are about to get a tattoo for the first time.


Back to My Kitchen Rules.  On last night's episode, Sammy and Bella made a chocolate cake with silver leaf and fairy floss on it.  And in related news, I gave birth to a baby made out of happiness and lollipops.  Okay, a lie.  In all seriousness though, I can't remember the last time I actually ate dessert, but one look at this thing and I couldn't get off the couch for 15 minutes.  A food orgasm will do that to you.  Another thing I love about MKR?  This guy:

Sure, he's no Wentworth/Jackman hybrid, but have you heard this dude talk?  His voice is like the audio version of...well, giving birth to a baby made out of happiness and lollipops.  That may well be the strangest sentence I've ever written on this blog, but I stand by it.  And this will be the cake they serve at our wedding:

Apart from that wonder of a dessert, I'm not a huge fan of Team Sammy And Bella.  They're too...smiley all the time.  It creeps me out.  Plus they're sisters who actually like hanging out with each other, and that's a concept I simply do not have the life-knowledge to wrap my head around.  I like the NSW boys.  They're arguably the worst cooks on the show, but they chest-bump after each challenge, and I'm nothing if not a sucker for a good chest-bump.  One of my other favourite teams is the Asian Chick/Little White Guy combo.  They're hip.  They're fun.  By which I of course mean 'I spend half of every episode trying to pin down the guys sexual orientation'.  I haven't got very far yet.  My Mum (who I sometimes watch the show with) hates this couple because she thinks the chick is ugly.  For someone that gave birth to a girl whose general appearance fluctuates between 'dirty hippie' and 'victim of electrocution', my Mother can be pretty judgemental about people's looks.  Her disliking the Asian/White Guy team for this reason is almost as unreasonable as me hating The Butchers just because one of them has an annoying lisp.  Normally I am a huge fan of butchers and lisps, but I don't think the two should be combined.  It feels like a health-code violation.

Speaking of health-code violations, you may or may not be excited to learn that Alex and I are moving out together.  When?  Soon.  As much as I love my house and my parents, I've officially run out of closet space.  Plus I have a sneaking suspicion the family cat might be plotting my death.  So hopefully May?  Anyone who laughed at that butcher/lisp/healthcode joke I just told is awesome, and officially invited to the housewarming.  And everyone else is invited to give me money so I can buy a new computer to blog on.