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my beef with Ina Garten


I don't watch much television anymore, but not because I think it's droll and beneath me. (Those people who drone on about the negative effects of television give me a headache.) I don't watch much television anymore because the tv is usually hijacked by the kids and duct-taped to one of three stations: Cartoon Network, Noggin or Nick Jr. I've seen all of the episodes of cartoons that my brain can take.

So last night around 5:30 I took back the night, as it were, and changed the channel to something more to my liking: Food Network. I do prefer Discovery Health, as you may or may not know, but when there are youngins in the house I try to find neutral channels like HGTV or Food Network.

I don't consider myself much of a cook, but I like to watch people who can cook. I like to see how easy preparing dinner could be if I had an unseen staff of 30 prepping my meat and vegetables for me. Anyway, last night I tuned into The Barefoot Contessa on Food Network. Her real name is Ina Garten and she's some kind of chef who has written many, many cookbooks. She has a husband named Jeffrey who works "in the city" and sometimes he can be seen on the show after a long day of work in the city.

Every time I watch an episode of The Barefoot Contessa I leave the show feeling a little bit like I was violated. She has a strange way of being seductive while talking to the camera. It's not in a good way, either. And when Jeffrey walks into the kitchen, it's like I took the violation with no lube.

The time lapse between me watching episodes of her show is just long enough to forget the dirty feeling I had when changing the channel last time. So each time I see her, it's as if I have been sullied anew. Thanks, Ina.

I don't think my children feel that way. They haven't said anything, but they do sit mesmerized while watching her chop stuff up and add it to the mixing bowl.


2007-01-03 at 7:04 a.m.

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