Tuesday, September 4, 2007

Take Home Chef

You know that show Take Home Chef?

For those who aren't familiar with it this guy from Australia will find a random person(read: hot chick) in a Fresh Market grocery store and then ask if he can purchase the groceries and then cook a wonderful meal.

The guy, whose name is Curtis Stone, is a pretty boy.

And I really think he picks the women who are all dressed up.

I mean who dresses up to go grocery shopping? I'm usually in my jeans and a regular t-shirt with my hair quickly thrown back into a ponytail.

All these women that he finds are in high HEELS, wearing tiny clothing with face caked with makeup.

Then again, it is Los Angeles.

Maybe in Los Angeles everyone goes around all dressed up.

Even to get groceries.

But let's pretend that I was one of those hot women who figured that wearing high heels was appropriate in a grocery store. (I hate high heels. Want to kill high heels.)

If Curtis approached me I'd probably scream.

Because I'm probably one of the jumpiest people that you'll ever meet. The slightest noise can cause me to startle. This has amused countless numbers of friends. A few thought I was making it up, that I couldn't possibly be that jumpy but then they realized it was the truth.

That I was a big scardy cat.

I might even hit him over the head with a loaf of bread if I had my children with me.

Because hello, it's LA, there are tons of insane people in LA.

Then I'd be humilated when I realized it was Curtis Stone.

Curtis Stone with his thick blond hair and sparkling blue eyes.

And a six pack abs, no doubt.

"That was quite a hello," Curtis might chuckle. "Please don't attack me with anything else."

I'd still be staring at him with bright red cheeks.

"I'm Curtis Stone. Have you see my show?"

"Yes," I'd probably squeak out.

"Good, then you know what I'm all about. I want to pay for your groceries and then cook you a fabulous dinner. Who do you cook for?"

I'd probably be a little embarrassed with all the cameras focusing on me and if Tommy were with me he'd be all, "Who are all these people? What's that microphone hanging over our heads? Can I play with it?"

"Er, I cook for my husband," I'd explain.

"And what does your husband like?" Curtis would ask.

I'd probably laugh and say, "The better question to ask if what DOESN'T he like? He's an incredibly picky man."

Curtis might stroke his chin. "This poses a challenge for me. But I'm up for it."

And he'd probably spit out some meal that I've NEVER heard of but assure me that Tom'll love it.

"I'm not sure," I'd say.

"Trust me," Curtis would reply, a little insulted that I'd doubt him. I mean didn't I know he was this GREAT chef? With an adorable accent?

I'd be tempted to throw in some other groceries--because hello, Curtis said he was paying.

But that would be selfish so I don't.

Curtis picks out some ingredients that I've never heard of.

I'd probably want to ask, "What the hell is that?" as he'd set it in the cart.

After he paid for everything and I thanked him profusely he'd probably ask if he could ride with me in the car.

Which would make me nervous.

"Er yes," I'd reply.

"Who is that man?" Tommy would be asking over and over. "Stranger danger, Mommy. Stranger danger."

Even though I'd have explained to him a number of times that it was for a TV show.

"But stranger danger," my kid would say all the way home.

And I'd be nervously driving around Curtis Stone, praying that I didn't hit a curb like I usually do.

Or get into my very first accident. And then ruin Curtis' perfect face and forever be blamed for maiming it.

But let's just say that I drive home without any difficulties.

And I lead him inside and the children just miraculously disappear.

I'm not kidding.

On the show when a woman has kids they're suddenly...gone in the next segment.

Does the show have a babysitter?

I'll just say that it does.

So I let my kids play with a stranger--I know, shame on me, but it's CURTIS STONE in my kitchen.

And Curtis says, "You can freshen up if you'd like while I get started."

Because he always says that.

As though he's all, "Ew grocery store hair!"

I'd probably rush upstairs and call everyone I know.


Of course I wouldn't know what to do with myself.

I guess retouch my makeup and hair?

Maybe change?

Take off the killer high heels.

Because they've already done their job. They've gotten me Curtis Stone.

I'd go back downstairs and Curtis would be in the middle of something. He'd tell me to chop something up.

I'd explain that I'm awful at it.

"You'll be fine," he'd assure me.

But then look at me in horror when he sees that I am chopping it all wrong.

"Like this," he'd say, probably thinking, "Holy crap, who doesn't know how to chop onions?"

Then he'd tell me to stir something.

And I'd probably do that wrong.

"Stir like this," he instruct probably thinking, "Holy crap, who doesn't know how to STIR?"

I suppose we'd be making some Italian dish. Since Tom likes Italian.

Maybe some fancy lasagna.

But not TOO fancy because again, Tom is incredibly picky.

And..some sort of salad for an appetizer and chocolate boxes for dessert.

(He once made chocolate boxes and I practically drooled all over myself. Because of the chocolate. Not Curtis. I promise.)

"Watch out, that's on fire!" Curtis might warn, pointing to a pot I was supposed to be taking care of.


"I'm just an awful cook," I'd laugh nervously, wondering if I should bring out the fire extinguiser.

Curtis doesn't argue.

He'd just say, "That's okay," and flash a Look to his cameraman that clearly states, "Dear God, I really need to start screening these women that I pick up."

In the middle of this I'd have to call Tom and ask when he was coming home for dinner.

Let's say he says he'll be home in ten minutes.

So I tell Curtis and some of his people go on a look out for Tom so they can warn us when he comes.

Curtis, who seems to like his booze will be all, "How about a glass of wine?"

Because he bought some at the store, you see.

I'd politely accept one even though I do not like wine.

"You look disgusted," Curtis will observe.

"Oh no..it's yummy," I'd lie.

Curtis will flash another Look at his cameraman. Great. I picked up a woman who can't cook AND doesn't like her booze.

(But I do Curtis, I like Cosmos and sweet drinks. I've just never liked wine. Make me a few Cosmos and I'll be sitting on your lap at the end of the night. Kidding. I don't think Tom would appreciate that.)

Then someone will announce, "The husband has just pulled up, I repeat, the husband has just pulled up.."

Everyone races into position.

When Tom opens the door the plan is to shout, "SURPRISE!"

But let me pause here.

Because normally when they do that in the show the men look startled, but then pleased.

Tom would be all, "What the FUC* is going on in here? Who are you? And who are YOU??"


And I'm not just saying this because I THINK that's what Tom would do.

I'm saying this because Tom even told me that is WHAT he'd do if that ever happened.

Because he's watched the show with me and he was all, "I'd be pretty pissed actually. When I come home I don't want to see a bunch of people I don't know in my house."

Is he a crab or what?

So yeah, when Tom walks through the door he'd startled.

And pissed.

"What the FUC* is going on in here? Who are you? And who are YOU??" He'd point an accusing finger at Curtis.

"Er, I'm Curtis Stone. I have a show called Take Home Chef and I found your wife here and I cooked you guys a fabulous dinner."

Tom would still be fuming.

Curtis would flash another Look at the camera. Holy crap. I find a woman who can't cook OR drink booze and her husband looks like he's going to kill me. I seriously need to screen these women!

Eventually Tom will settle down somewhat.

He'd even enjoy the meal and muster up a thank you to Curtis.

But uh oh.

The lasagna freaks him out.

Because there are little black bits in it and he doesn't know what they are.

"What's this?"

"Oh that's a *insert spice I can't pronounce here*," Curtis will explain as cheerfully as he can. Because at this point he's ready to get the hell out of the crazy house.

"It tastes weird," Tommy will say.

Oh Tom, I'd think. No now. Not on TELEVISION. Can you just not be picky for ONE night?

I'd try to flash him looks but he won't understand.

I mean in every show the people always love what Curtis creates.

But Tom, my Tom would probably find fault with it.

And Tommy, who is just like his Daddy.

"This tastes like poop!" he'd probably shout.

And Natalie, let's just say she's just about a year will probably smear it all over herself.

Curtis will flash another look at the camera. Holy crap. I find a woman who can't cook. Who doesn't drink wine. Her husband wants to kill me. Her husband doesn't like my delicious lasagna. Her kid is shouting that it tastes like POOP and her baby is mistaking it for clothing. I REALLY REALLY need to screen these women first.

Curtis will leave immediately after he serves dessert.

"Well I've got to run," he'll say. "It's been...an adventure." He'd force a smile.

"Thank you," I'd say, embarrassed. "Everything was delicious. Tom is just..well, picky."

"It's no problem," Curtis will lie.

And then two seconds later, be gone.

He always says something into the camera as he leaves.

I imagine he'd say, "From now on, all the women that I come across must fill out a questionaire. I'm getting too old for this. I'm too PRETTY for this abuse.."


Curtis Stone better stay far away from us.

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