Yeah, I’ll admit it – despite the meat, the cheese, the butter and all that, I love me some Pioneer Woman. Er, I mean, I love her blog! But after seeing her go toe-to-toe with Bobby Flay (in her huge ol’ house, talk about home turf!) I love her even more for being so… real. The punks are just the way she describes them, Marlboro Man not needing to say a word to make his presence known, her warmth and moxie were felt. I dug it, clearly (and will note that I indulged vicariously by buying her cookbook for my mother during the holidays last year.)
But it got me thinking. It got me thinking about the appearance of cute and creative Chef Chloe on “Cupcake Wars” and of the smack spoken there, of debuts of shows like “Meat and Potatoes” and “Man vs. Food“‘s ever-insatiable quest to eat the most exorbitantly sized indulgent composition of dead beings, dribbles and bits…
Notice how I didn’t say a word about any of the shows that may be on the air which just might cater to my liking. Why? Because either they are never aired at a watchable hour (2am? Come on!,) are rare (such as episodes of “Good Eats” dedicated to greens or an “Iron Chef America” episode where the secret ingredient is a legume,) or they are just plain dry, boring and reinforce the stereotype that vegetarian and vegan diets are uber healthy and subsequently super boring.
I like to think that I’m neither uber healthy nor super boring, but a nice balance of healthy and… other. Sure I am healthy overall but I have been known to kill a bag of Tings without going running the next day or plow down all three dozen chocolate chip cookies I made over the course of a weekend. (That’s normal, right? No? Don’t tell me if not.) Pepples donut farm makes me happy and I am okay with being that lady doing lunges down the street in an effort to burn off the 10 amazing donuts I just hoovered.
Also? Did you not get the memo about how I kick ass? I am a 5’3″ Filipina who likes to lift weights to Rage Against the Machine at 6:30am; I come from a family where my father keeps his longboard in the trunk of his car and my mother once proudly told me the newest thing she’d unlocked playing “Ratchet and Clank” was a rhino called “Rip You a New One.” And my sister? Don’t get me started. Not boring!
If nothing else, I am modest and quirky, eh?
As we progress as a society, as the word “vegan” becomes more commonplace, as the idea of being a locavore continues to grow, will there ever be a show for the rest of us? Send me your celiacs, your lactose intolerant, your picky-pickies. Send me your vegetarians, your vegans, your raw foodies…
But in all seriousness, what about the rest of us?
Isa and Terry were the OGs, taking to their local boob tubes; let’s not forget Julie’s steady stream of circle-v stars and starlettes. What about the super attainable smiling of Ms. Bittersweet/My Sweet Vegan herself, the gal who outshined Martha Stewart on her own show or… hell, what about me?
(Backstory: my fiance and I met in screenwriting at UCSD; I was a visual arts major with an emphasis in computing and a minor in cognitive science. What this really means is I did a lot of film and video; since you don’t have money to pay for actors, you do your own acting or each other’s acting and then have no choice but to get used to seeing and hearing yourself on a big screen. Work has sort of utilized my skillz…)
No, I’m not a professional, I’m not Cordon Bleu schooled, the large-breasted overly-toothy granddaughter of a director, winner of a James Beard Award or the child of raw vegan foodies who grew up on a commune. I am a woman on a mission to share delicious things with the world, both helping bring variety to the lives of those who have chosen – or who have been given – a different path while proving to the disbelievers that our food isn’t just good for you, it is damn good, period.
So you hear me, FoodNetwork?
I’m ready for my throwdown.
Till then, you can catch me warming up via tomorrow’s work potluck competition: spicy tofu-cashew ricotta pasta, sweet jammy “Pepperidge Farm” style cookies, a monstrosity of peanut-butter-chocolate-overload variety and of course, the ol’ Tofurkys for those of us who will not be partaking in the deep-fried-vs.-roasted competition judging. Who’s taking home first for desserts and sides this year? Here’s hoping it’s lil’ ol’ ME.
(photos explained: at Pepples donut farm, baking and destroying from my desk, kicking my own ass in the gym at work, homemade chocolate cupcake, from the 2008 work “Olympics” – Team Survivor)