Written by Caleb Morgan, a guest contributor.
Growing up, it wasn’t uncommon for my family’s TV to switch from Disney Channel or Nickelodeon to Food Network. A ten-year-old can only watch so many “Drake & Josh” reruns before he grows weary and wants to know how to braise a pork roast. My curiosity became appointment TV viewing. Bobby Flay and Alton Brown were relatable and knowledgeable hosts that made high concept gastronomical ideas into edible little tidbits that even I could understand. Shows like “Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives” and “Iron Chef” were fun viewing that anyone could enjoy, and for a long time, that was all America needed.
In this modern age however, Food Network might not be cutting it. America has evolved. In the past, food was something to be consumed, but now anyone with an Instagram has the ability to showcase food as an art form. While the true “foodies” knew that food was far more than sustenance, viewers were looking for easy recipes and achievable dishes. Not anymore. While Food Network stills tries its best to keep up with modern America, a lá shows like “Cutthroat Kitchen” and “Chopped,” by not adapting to this food-as-an-art-form movement, they’re being beat in their own game by a streaming giant: Netflix.
Netflix has taken food shows to the next level, and with a realism and budget that, quite frankly, Food Network will never reasonably be able to compete with. But it’s more than that. Netflix focuses on the food.
The best example of Netflix’s “food first” mentality is also its first: “Chef’s Table.”
At first glance, “Chef’s Table” seems like the C-SPAN of food shows, with its refrained soundtrack and limited dialogue, but upon further review, we see that all of that is just a starring vehicle for the food. The aerial shots of plates of paella and gaeng daeng could be photographed and hung in a Gerhard Richter art exhibit, just a flurry of color and shapes that genuinely look too good to eat.
While Netflix started off by capitalizing in the areas Food Network was lacking in, they eventually started coming at them in their own game. One thing that always kept viewers coming back to Food Network was its wide array of lovable, fan favorite chefs like Rachael Ray and the ever-relevant Guy Fieri. Netflix took this popular model and allowed the personalities to shape the program rather than find a formula and repeatedly produce it with a rotating assortment of hosts.
For those who are a fan of the more traditional food adventurer show, I present to you “Somebody Feed Phil.” Phil Rosenthal, best known as the creator of every step-dad’s favorite show, “Everybody Loves Raymond,” takes his ’90s sitcom schtick on the road as he travels everywhere from Bangkok to Dublin.
Rosenthal’s innocent curiosity is a sharp contrast to the more buckled-down attitude that traveling hosts like Andrew Zimmerman or the late Anthony Bourdain possess. He’s funny, in the same way that your uncle is, and his facial reactions to what he is tasting wouldn’t be out of place in a Charlie Chaplin film. He’s seems to be enjoying what he’s doing in a really pure way.
On the other side of the spectrum is Netflix’s “Ugly Delicious.” Hosted by celebrity chef David Chang, the series focuses on a specific dish each week, and puts a story together through several different segments that highlights its history and modern focal points. It’s raw and unfiltered and definitely isn’t a program that Food Network could get away with. Its language is as rich as its deep dive into the cultures that make these dishes so great, and there is a realism that this show gets in part from the freedom Netflix grants its showrunners.
While these two programs are as different as night and day, there is still a constant presence that remains: the gastrological cinematography.
I’ll admit, I made the phrase “gastrological cinematography” up. It’s the only words that I can use to describe how the series do such a great job of highlighting how beautiful food is when it’s prepared with care and precision.
There is a specific moment in “Somebody Feed Phil” when a potato was being peeled that was shot so beautifully that I legitimately rewound it to watch it twice. It was so fast and methodical that it was almost entrancing. Growing up watching Bobby Flay, I didn’t really care about what he was preparing, just about who was speaking. Now I can care about both.
With “The Final Table,” Netflix’s latest foray into cooking television, they once again strike gold. The show collects 24 of the world’s most experienced and awarded chefs and puts them in a competition to conquer the culinary cultures of nine different countries. By bypassing the amateurism that so many Food Network shows utilize, they let the audience see food at its very best.
The dishes are well prepared, and the chefs are equally well-prepared. The stakes couldn’t be higher either, as these are the world’s best chefs with absolutely everything to lose, and the competition show just feels more important than a “Chopped” or “MasterChef.” Audiences love high stakes, and there is nothing more exciting than seeing the best compete against each other. It’s like a culinary Super Bowl.
For some people, there is nothing wrong with slow, step-by-step cooking shows with familiar hosts and docile voices. In fact, some people prefer it.
Yet there is no denying that the safe approach to culinary programming is dying, and its dwindling fan base is jumping ship to the more exciting world of streaming. In the past, people were watching these shows for the personalities, but the category is becoming more and more niche, and as Netflix increases its portrayal of food, audiences will be able to find exactly what they want, without the excess.
If food shows have taught me anything, it’s that the culinary arts are all about how the plate looks.
And Netflix’s selection is looking great.
Photo courtesy of TheCookingWorld.com
