A few years ago, when my husband and I had very flexible jobs, we would sit in front of our TV and eat lunch each day while watching a little show called Take Home Chef. In the show, a tall, attractive (by most people's standards, not mine!) man would approach someone in the supermarket and offer to help them cook dinner. He was a perfectly nice and pleasant person, this fellow. Actually, you may have heard of him. His name is Curtis Stone, and he's every which freaking way you turn lately!
I mean, is it just me or does there seem to be a serious Curtis Stone agenda lately, guys? Am I the only person who's seeing this? He seemed to disappear for a while, now he's on America's Next Great Restaurant, Top Chef Masters, he was on Celebrity Apprentice 3, and he's just signed deals with Hy-Vee and Post cereal. Back the heck up, Stone! Enough of you! You're coming precariously close to fellow gelled and highlighted chef Guy Fieri territory. And that's not a good thing.
Have they no dignity, these chefs? Sure, everybody knows that the food world has basically become an ugly version of Hollywood (or good looking version of D.C.), but it still is possible to be a "famous" (i.e., "on TV") chef and maintain some class. Tom Colicchio, Anthony Bourdain, Eric Ripert, to name a few. Once you cross into multiple shows at once -- and a clothing line, Fieri! -- you run the risk of becoming a joke (and super-duper rich). What's more important to you, Curtis? Don't you want to be respected in your field? And not the butt of Anthony Bourdain's jokes? You were okay on Take Home Chef, but now you're just annoying me.
When I first laid eyes on Guy Fieri, I didn't like him per se, but I didn't really dislike him like I do now. He was just this beer drinkin' dude who cooked food I wouldn't eat in a million-trillion years. Now, forget it! Every time I turn on my damn TV, there's him and his gravelly voice barking orders at me.
Now we have Curtis, the ladies' version of Fieri. Spiky hair? Check. Highlights? Check, but a softer hue. Accent? Check, but Australian instead of Midwestern. And instead of black and red bowling shirts, or whatever the hell Fieri wears, Curtis wears fitted pants and button-down shirts. You're not fooling me, food people! You can't just stretch out and pretty up Guy Fieri and call him Curtis Stone and think I'm going to like him! I'm starting to hate him, actually. And it's all because of you!
Look, Curtis, just between me and you, here's a bit of advice: lay low for a while. You're really starting to become overexposed, and it's so not cute. If your goal is just to pack as much work in as possible for the next few years, then retire, good for you. But if it's to have a long career as a well-respected chef, you're on a one-way train goin' nowhere, mate.
What do you think of Curtis Stone mania?
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