Masterchef 2012, Day Two: Extreme Beats And High Fives

The new series of Masterchef is in full swing, so you know what that means?... That's right, emotional breakdowns, over-aggressive judges and culinary fuck-ups on a huge scale.
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The new series of Masterchef is in full swing, so you know what that means?... That's right, emotional breakdowns, over-aggressive judges and culinary fuck-ups on a huge scale.

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So it began. Strings, a pile of aprons, John Torode grinning like a happy puppet, Gregg Wallace standing firm and serious like a potato in a suit clutching a wooden spoon. “Bring it on!” shouted John, echoing the very thought going through absolutely everyone’s minds. Bring it on. Bring on the cookery. Let’s fucking cook.

Tonight, eight would become four. Or five. Then they’d be added to the ones who won yesterday, making it something like nine. Then tomorrow, some more people would be added. Then there would be twelve. Twelve months of the year, twelve signs of the Zodiac. Twelve aprons stuffed on a stool in the studio. This was intense. This was the licking bit before popping the whole lot in.

"Over there is a massive shed and it’s full of food,” yelled John, pointing over his shoulder. Go in there, get some stuff, then cook us some lunch!” boomed Gregg, his eyes alight, like they were on fire or something. The eager cooks dashed in. This was going to be one mixed bag of amazing. No doubt.

Blonde Lex started badly by confusing a male sea trout for a female salmon and couldn’t apologise to it enough. She then butchered the thing and cooked it in fifteen different ways – including frying the little bugger, and boiling its tiny trout penis in a cup of wine. Charlie did some mini kievs. Afsaneh shoved prunes into a chicken’s mouth. And then Sanjay, who played General Zod in the Bollywood version of Superman II, shouted “I never follow recipes!” before chucking a rack of lamb in the bin, and rolling a massive wheel of cheese into a river.

"Over there is a massive shed and it’s full of food,” yelled John, pointing over his shoulder. Go in there, get some stuff, then cook us some lunch!” boomed Gregg, his eyes alight, like they were on fire

On the other side of the kitchen, four other contestants were hard at it. Rachel explained that she used to be a forensic psychologist before she lost her job. Matthew killed a rabbit with a Stanley knife. Emma did an impression of a hot supply teacher. And Ashvy realised that she was wasting her life being a doctor, and should probably do something useful.

Extreme beats. Fire. OMG! A frying pan!

STOP! Stop cooking! PLEASE! Stop it now! It’s over! Step away from your kitchens! No. More. Cooking! Time to serve… STOP… JUST STOP!” shrieked Gregg from inside one of the ovens.

To cut a long story short, Sanjay should have followed recipes, and Rachel’s sob story about being unemployed was wasted on these guys. They don’t do that kind of bullshit.

Round Two found the remaining six heading to the professional kitchens. No one really watches these bits. Tuesday’s was good because it featured a chef called Ian Pengelley, who is now believed to be the world’s biggest cunt. This restaurant round was the usual start bad, yada yada yada… good in the end. The only bit worth watching was posh boy Charlie attempting to calmly add a splodge of sauce to a plate whilst a chef stood over him whispering “stop shaking!” over and over again.

So back to the studio. Soft rock guitar. The contestants walking in slow motion like a really sexy version of Reservoir Dogs. The strings kicked in, angels began shrieking – this was it. The final round. Charlie had a risk-o-metre, and it was basically turned up to ten. Ten being the highest level it can get to. Maximum risk. It’s your last chance to impress!” roared John. Gregg fished around in his pocket for some half-decent cutlery.

To summarise what went down: Lex opted to make pudding, which Gregg put in his mouth, then immediately spat at a wall. Ashvy mixed a Meat Feast with an Indian take away, and it was lush. Charlie did venison on a mattress of potatoes with a haggis wardrobe, a boiled pear sun-lounger, crushed nuts, and some really loud German beetroot toddlers. It was bonkers, but he got away with it. Emma made a peach pie to go with her top. Michael threw an entire lobster at a plate of Bolognese. John Torode actually woofed at Afsaneh’s pudding. And when Torode woofs at a pudding, you can pretty much guarantee that Gregg is about to spaff everywhere. As happened.

In the end, it all proved a bridge too far for Lex and Emma. The rest were ALL WINNERS.

Great cookery guys,” said Gregg, offering everyone a high five. Then Michael started crying.

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