The other night, as I was flicking through the channels, I came across a bizarre show where everyone was cooking in makeshift kitchens and yelling about lamb.
It would appear I had stumbled across My Kitchen Rules or ‘MKR‘ as the cool kids call it. Cooking shows are as foreign to me as “those bloody Kardashium women” are to my pop.
I do not have even the slightest interest in cooking. In fact, I don’t think I even care about food. Sure, I eat it from time to time, but I don’t care about it. I would prefer to spend 20 minutes trying to explain to pop who the Kardashian’s are (which is HELL) than prepare a home cooked meal.
So naturally, my instinct was to change the channel. These people seemed to care a lot about food. They were chopping various, er, food ingredients very quickly. They were pouring concoctions into pots. They were slapping around dough and doing something with quinoa. But suddenly, I was hooked.
To be clear, I still didn’t care about the cooking thing they all seemed so keen on. I couldn’t tell you the name of one meal that was created (maybe there was a curry in there?). But I couldn’t look away because I had had a life-changing epiphany;
People don’t watch cooking shows for the cooking. They watch them because of what they tell us about life.
Call me Aristotle. Plato even. The Greeks had their myths to teach life lessons, and we, in 2016, have MKR. As I sat there mouth agape, I noted all the wonderful things I was learning from the show, complete with appropriate kitchen puns.
Never throw in the (tea) towel. Staying level-headed is everything.
I have a tendency to panic. I’m a perfectionist, and when I feel like things are not going quite how I planned, something inside my head whispers “throw in the towel”. From experience, I can confidently attest that this is the WORST way to live your life – and nowhere is this better illustrated than in MKR.