Food TV gets real

The Food Network spices up its stew with a new "reality lineup," including a "Bachelorette"-style cooking competition. But it's still a foodie's best friend.

By Carly Jacobs

Mar 26, 2003 | Last week a fantasy of mine almost came true. In the vegetable market near work, a cute boy (casual but not grungy, Semitic but not too hairy) roamed the squash-lined aisles with the kind of confusion you want to heavy-pet into stillness. He had bought a hunk of yellowfin tuna next door and was asking the stock boys which vegetable would complement it best. Armed with a bag of asparagus, he hovered over a wicker basket overflowing with French beans.

I inserted myself into the conversation -- trying to be charming but not obnoxious -- and suggested the slim beans but added he had done well choosing asparagus because I love asparagus, only it's out of season so he should be careful. "It's important to have color," I smiled. Later I saw him loitering by the grape tomatoes, asking another worker if he should buy the yellow pear-shaped guys or the red ones. I was jealous; he was supposed to ask me that. Then he'd say, "Hey, you look like you enjoy food. Why don't you come over and make this with me?"

Years later we'd tell this story to our kids and grandkids over and over again, how we met among tarragon leaves and fingerlings and wasn't it romantic. How we went home together and, after making a spectacular shrimp risotto, kicked back and watched the Food Network, a station whose programming is guided by same principles upon which our love was founded -- that food is nice and comfortable and connects well-meaning people to each other.

Back in the real world, my fantasy fell short at the checkout counter where the boy ignored me, talking on his cellphone instead. I had no choice but to go home and watch "The Naked Chef" all alone -- and fully clothed. For me, the Food Network has always been the perfect escape. Not only from my dating woes, but also from television in general. Every time I tune in, I see nice people doing nice things with nice food. It's warm and fuzzy and not at all threatening -- like PAX, only without the Jesus nonsense.

Playing nice seems to go against the grain of winning programming these days, but Food Network is doing extremely well. "Fear Factor's" snake-brains-for-dinner may pull in big-time ratings, but Food Network is equally successful without the gimmicks or gross-out factor. One of cable's fastest-growing networks, Food Network broadcast in 77 million homes in 2001 -- that's 9 million more than the previous year.

I'm interested in all the dicing, zesting, spluttering, steaming and eventual consumption that cooking entails -- but I was like this before I had cable. What's noteworthy is how Food Network hooks people who aren't foodies or cooks, people who think a McRib is gourmet eatin', who have no interest in where their food comes from or how to make it.

Eileen Opatut, senior vice president of programming, explains that food is a panacea for all kinds of crap out there -- both on television and in the world. "When the world is out of control, food is something you can feel good about," she told me over the phone. "There is immediate gratification in food." For the last five years, Opatut has stayed true to her belief that the subject of food doesn't need the kind of angry dressing other networks heap on their programming. On her network, she says, you'll find no "slings of torture," even though mean-spirited programs do well elsewhere (see "Joe Millionaire," "Big Brother" and "Survivor," if you must).

Instead, Opatut and her staff hand-pick shows that reflect the channel's commitment to airing informative, interesting and funny programming without stooping to cheap tactics. "Food is our friend," she said. "I don't ever want to use food in a derogatory way."

So when I heard that Food Network was introducing a new "reality lineup" this spring, I wasn't sure what to make of it. The idea seemed a little absurd -- after all, Food Network has always been "real." It's not like they show movies or cartoons -- even Emeril Lagasse's short-lived sitcom was on another network. And what about the inherently degrading nature of reality TV as we know it? Food Network is too nice for that.

I breathed a little easier after watching the shows. It's clear that Food Network's definition of reality is unlike that of its TV brethren. The format is the same, with its competition-driven shows that pit strangers against each other for some sort of prize, and they're definitely out to woo the same audience (viewers aged 18 to 34, who make up Food Network's fastest-growing demographic). The difference is there'll be no cockroach eating or back-stabbing on the nice channel. Which, for many, will be a relief.

There's an unwritten rule in television that says every self-respecting network jumping on the reality bandwagon needs a dating show. Food Network is no exception -- its entree is called "Date Plate." Having seen the genre's classy predecessors, I worried that Food Network would fall into the dating-show abyss of unintelligible and/or unbelievably slutty contestants wading through humiliating, body-baring outings. Naturally, Food Network's angle would have to revolve around food. Would that mean couples sucking foie gras off each other's toes? I was scared to find out.

Fortunately, "Date Plate" isn't like other dating shows -- for one, it's sincere. You won't find any pop-up blurbs or insulting cartoons, nor ex-girlfriends piping in commentary from a souped-up Winnebago stakeout bus. In "Date Plate," two contestants get $50 and two hours to drum up a meal for a single of the opposite sex.

Next Page: Bad boys sear; good boys roast. But these aren't the disposable hunks and bimbos other networks display

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