People who watch Food Network watch it for all the wrong reasons. As
textual poachers, the audience of Food TV Network does not choose to receive knowledge about cooking as much as they choose to receive the programs as sensual pleasure.

The program Everyday Italian is a highly sensual program. This is established from the beginning of the program by having a young attractive hostess who is shown in her kitchen wearing a low cut top and a tight apron. By having a young attractive female for a hostess, the program attracts both males and even females because she appears friendlier than, say, a hairy bloated old man. The sexuality is evident throughout the show. In one scene she is making calzones. There are close up shots of her hands and she is manipulating the dough while soft jazzy electronic music begins to play. The dough is soft, pliable, and flesh-like in color. The viewer who watches the program for sensual pleasure associates her rubbing the dough with her hands with something like a back massage, or rubbing some other part of the skin. The music helps emphasize this idea of hands rubbing on the skin in that music is relaxing in the same way a massage is relaxing. It is important to note that this music is played only during certain parts, such as when they do close ups on her hands. The music builds as she chops the meat. When she puts the meat-covered-in-dough into the oven, the music completes and is no longer heard. The effect of this is a visual and auditory orgasm. This helps the viewer become aware of the sexual metaphors being made. Also, the rolling pin she uses is not a traditional one that is like a cylinder with handles on each end. Instead, it is phallic in shape because it is a long rod that gets thicker in the center with no handles. There are many more examples of sensuality on this program, such as when she takes a bite of what she has made and there is a close up shot of her mouth.

Still, Food Network has other programs that achieve the same goal of sensual pleasure but from a completely different way. One program that is more deliberate and verbal about the sensuality of the show is Barefoot Contessa. This show creates a story about a middle aged heterosexual couple that is preparing for a romantic afternoon. This program, unlike Everyday Italian, is more gender oriented in creating sensual pleasure for females. It does this first by excluding the male from being in the house while the wife cooks the meal. It is important to note this because by removing the male from the house the female is essentially saying that she must relax herself and get “in the mood” before the male can come back. Part of this happens when she is preparing the chocolate mousse. She says, “I don’t know a man who doesn’t love chocolate mousse.” This statement seems false because generally chocolate is thought of as an aphrodisiac for women and not men. The statement also sounds like an exaggeration because generally women enjoy chocolate more than men. She also uses the statement as her excuse to make the mousse because chocolate is generally thought of as an aphrodisiac which will help her to “get in the mood.” In addition, the process of making the mousse is very sensual. The soft textures of the cream and eggs are mixed with the rough texture of the granulated sugar. Here, the soft textures represent the woman and the rough textures represent the man; by mixing them together the viewer attains visual pleasure by understanding this to be a sexual act.

These two shows are watched for the sensual factor and not for learning purposes. Not all shows on Food Network are about sensual pleasure, but none of them are only about cooking. If the Food Network was solely about cooking, it would not be as popular.

What is How to Boil Water really about? There are many interpretations to it. One of them could be that it is strictly a cooking show, while another could be that it is a cooking soap opera that uses the theme of cooking to represent the "cooking up" of new relationships, mixing sexual tensions with a little bit of spice. A viewer takes ownership of a program when they watch it for some other reason than what the producers of show intended. The tactics that are employed by viewers "seize opportunities and manipulate events for their own purposes" (Berger 122).

The opening shot of the program is of Tyler and Jack standing right next to each other with Tyler softly and slightly holding onto Jack’s right hand with his left hand. Her hand looks very limp and shows no sign of movement or tension, but the expression on her face is that of surprise because the love that she has for him is a secret love that is not for the viewers to see. Certain viewers may watch this show because "what happens is that people who are exposed to all the signs and images find ways of transforming them, ‘reading’ them in their own way, and using them for their own devices" (Berger 123). Jack and Tyler wear no wedding or engagement rings on their fingers, which may give the audience the indication that both of them are either not married or they don’t want the audience to know who they really are and what they do once the camera turns off. This proves the fact that something is going on with the two hosts because, throughout the show, there is an odd feeling of sexual tension and separation between them. Also, a lack of reality in the program comes from the fact that Jack has such well-manicured fingernails, even though she works in food. Her fingernails remain clean and shiny throughout the show, despite the food products that she has touched (compared to Contessa’s fingernails, which are quite dirty and not as well manicured as Jack's are). The lack of reality makes the program seem more like a soap opera that uses the theme of cooking as a distraction to postpone the plot of whether Tyler and Jack will hook up in this particular episode.

The fact that the theme of this particular episode is "Hot and Spicy" is supposed to be an allusion to the love between the two hosts of the show. Tyler clearly likes to put Mozzarella-Jack on all of his food because it "gives it more flavor." This phrase is clearly a reference to how Jack adds more flavor to his life whether sexually or emotionally. The references to spice is also used in the quote "poaching mellows the heat of jalapenos," because all of the individual spicy ingredients that go into the enchilada (cilantro, red onions, chilies) represent pieces of dreams and desires that Tyler has for Jack. But will his dreams and desires be rejected by Jack if she does not like the food, or will her liking the spicy enchilada mean that she wants Jack? That is up for the viewer to guess when they watch the show next time, because this particular program is aimed at both male and female viewers. The females will tune in to see what new cooking themes will reflect the love that Tyler has for Jack, while the guys will tune into the program for a little bit of help with cooking and to see what tight T-shirt Jack is wearing.

He takes the round, firm fruit in his hand and says to her without even
looking into her face, “Now just take it [avocado] in your hand and give it a nice squeeze.” She submits and complies. “That’s my girl,” he tells her as he turns away from her and looks into the camera. “It’s getting hot in here.” He says to the audience with bedroom eyes.

No, you haven’t been reading a passage from a steamy Sydney Sheldon novel. It’s an exerpt from a well-known cooking show—How To Boil Water. Food on television is hot and cable networks are quickly becoming more and more crowded with shows that deliver a half hour of informative programming under the umbrella of food. However, don’t be fooled by the brawny, attractive, strong and sexy-talking chef—they mean to sell sex. The sexual imagery we contrive in our heads once we get “hooked” in by the show is guidedly intended. Interestingly, not all viewers subscribe to the sexual agenda of the networks of today. Though modern cooking shows have more appeal now than they arguably ever have, there is another way to view these daytime passion pits. Programs like Barefoot Contessa, Everyday Italian, and the most suggestive in name, The Naked Chef, have more to them than just telling you how to brine your shrimp in the privacy of your own home. They serve as comic relief for a number of the audience who do not buy into the overstated and heavy-handed sexual connotations and innuendos, back dropped by what many could argue is simply soft porn music.

THE ART OF MAKING LOVE BY CONVERSATION
It serves the shows, the producers, and the networks that sponsor them to promote programming that has an ample audience base. In the case of cooking television, the trend just so happens to be “sex, sex, and more sex.” It might actually work better, however, if producers didn’t push for such blatant verbiage as: “Take your spoon and penetrate…;” the word “creamy” (used too much); “Would you love that to go in there? Yes, I would love that;” and “Is it all the way in there?” Those that take the comedic approach to watching such productions are mocking and are even disgusted by the obvious attempt at such flirtatious motivations—not to mention the fact the dialogue is simply over the top for the context of a cooking show. Ergo, the show becomes camp as it unknowingly makes fun of itself.

“THE PROBLEM WITH LIFE IS THE LACK OF BACKGROUND MUSIC”
Another way in which producers carry the “sex” vibe to our homes is by use of music. A good backdrop of subject-appropriate music can push an idea or concept even further to imagery in the mind. No doubt about it, music is very suggestive. In Everyday Italian the lady chef rolls her dough out gently with a long cylindrical pin while throbbing music provides sensual foreplay. A “CUT TO” reveals her mouth curled up into a light smile of pleasure—from what, we have no idea, but those who are listening to the music get the intended message. Again, most people will likely buy into the provocative imagery and music. Most people will think they just tuned in on a really "hot" day where everything the hosts and hostesses do heats more than just the culinary selection prepared that day. Again, don’t think for a second that there isn’t another demographic that have taken these overdone messages of sex and processed them to mean something wholly hilarious. In fact, arguably, it can’t be helped to reach the same ends as the music is just as overstated as the dialogue and imagery.

FINAL WORD
Words likely to never be heard by hosts are: dry, pale, chunky, fat, acrid, chalky, and slam. These words have singular, and perhaps negative sexual definitions. However, be aware that certain words will be heard—and more than just a few times (i.e., juicy, golden/fleshy, smooth, plump or round, thick, “nice and…,” big, poke/stuff, cram/shove, inject, stiff/firm, tap, and slap). The words have connotative meaning attached to them. In addition to their every day, innocent use, they have a sexual, secondary meaning. They are more provocative.

In short, cooking out, sex in. With that having been said it seems true
that television is pushing the envelope and nudging into our homes with innuendo. Summarily, the old cooking show went the way of the dinosaur a long time ago and so now daytime programming reflects the modern sentiment, “Vodka and black underwear out, creamy, smooth and hot cooking in.

Looking at the arena of the modern TV viewer, it is easy to see where the detail of the experience of textual absorption takes place. It can be difficult to put into place the moment when the relationship changes from one of parasitical vying to symbiotic digestion. Using the given episodes of How to Boil Water, Everyday Italian and Barefoot Contessa from the Food Network a viewer can easily become the textual poacher rather than simply a viewer entranced by yummy wares.

A everyday viewer’s transformation into a poacher is done in a slight of hand, a thievery of sorts. They begin to absorb the underlying text below the fluffy icing of a freeze-frame cooking program. This is what the producers' strategy is stabbing at. Cooking, entertaining and relationships are focused on by each show, and countless others framed on the network. They use the everyday, simply approach with outstanding flare to make things seem laymen-like and tangible. Take for instance the change in dynamics by making Tyler Florence the food expert in the How to Boil Water kitchen, as opposed to his female counterpart, Jack. This strategy puts the viewer off balance, but then makes them the textual dinner guest. They then begin to tactically observe everything but the food in question. The show becomes a detailed look at the dynamics of a battle of the sexes and a recipe for ill begotten humor.

In Everyday Italian, a viewer quickly passes up the receiver of knowledge due to the fact that the hostess has an intangible look for cooking. The strategy of the producers is to use beauty and wholesome sex appeal for a show that for 22 minutes gives nothing more than simple Italian recipes found almost anywhere. The audience becomes a guest for their hostess and thus derives more than treats, they learn about entertaining and what laymen in Roma would do for a lunch slice. This text for the viewer turns to a romance "look," from the camera angles to the costume. They learn little of cooking and more of the insight of one Italian-American super model chef's personal life. Could this be why she is now hosting a show called Behind the Bash? Or is it that she just reminds everyone in the back row of Natalie Portman?

On Barefoot Contessa, the food plays second fiddle from beginning to end, number one because even the passive viewer at times does not have that rich of a palette. The poaching happens as week after week the viewer tactfully uses the TV to tap into the life and workings of the hostess. This can be done through her party or event hosting, or in the case of this episode, a romantic afternoon with the wayward Jeffery. This same happenstance plays out for Paula Deen on her show as well.

So for the common viewer, taking in a morning of cooking becomes much like any other morning of network programming; these soap opera just actually give tips.

Michel de Certeau uses his concept of la perruque to describe the practice of workers using clandestine tactics to undermine the domination of the employer. I wonder if while developing his theories, Certeau had spent any time watching the Food Network. Obviously the Barefoot Contessa is subscribing to Certeau’s la perruque by merely pretending to host an informal cooking show, when really she’s using her thirty-minutes of airtime to create a five-course, alcohol-saturated lunch; all apparently in exchange for a little romance, compliments of her chubby hubby. The differences in the way the forces behind shows such as Barefoot Contessa and How to Boil Water want viewers to receive the show, but the way viewers actually read the show suggests that ordinary people have both the wit and the courage to rebel against “the man.” These readers of media texts each produce their own unique meaning of a text that is based on personal experience. For example, while watching How to Boil Water I experienced a wide range of feelings targeted at the female hostess of the show, Jack. Initially she seemed completely clueless in the kitchen, as though her gender and that of her male counterpart had been reversed before the show. Questions such as, “So what exactly is an enchilada?” seemed to be both flaky and rather unnecessary for a cooking show. However, by taking the perspective of the writer/producers of the show, perhaps her questions are pre-written and asked to satisfy all the non-cookers—and for that matter, all non-eaters in the audience who may need reminding of the basic terms of Mexican cuisine. As the show progressed, I began to feel annoyed with how Jack’s role had evolved from innocent questioner to inept child, as the male host made comments such as, “that’s my girl” and “lime girl,” which only insinuated that aside from, or perhaps due to her not being kitchen savvy, her role in the show had been reduced to that of a child. While I make assumptions that How to Boil Water has objectives of providing random facts on cultural dining and quick tips such as learning what a gooseberry is, as a reader, it seems that this show only further proves that in our society, a woman who cannot cook is nothing more than comic relief.

On the other hand, shows such as Everyday Italian attempt to redeem the competence of women in the kitchen by shamelessly combining sex and pizza. Everyday Italian uses a series of jump shots and soft lighting to portray a friendly and warm cooking environment that seems very much like idyllic images of grandma’s kitchen, up until the moment that the hostess arrives on the scene. She is a skinny, seemingly Italian woman (note the accent she uses for “mozzarella”), with form fitting clothes that accentuate all the right curves. The show attempts to capitalize on the authenticity of the hostess, going to the extent of portraying her recent trips to Rome and pretty Italian scenery. While each miniscule detail seems to have been thought of by the hostess, when she puts her party pizzas in the oven on a cookie sheet labeled “made in France,” the credibility is immediately taken into question by a viewer at home. Although the show attempts to teach what traditionally had been regarded as family practices of handing down old recipes and cooking tips, Everyday Italian falls short for a viewer who is wise enough to realize that the show is not about food, but instead displays how women should look good in the kitchen.

>  >  >  >   m  a  n  o  n  '  s     c  o  u  r  s  e     p  a  g  e  s 


Page layout and design ©2004 by Hugh S. Manon for the Oklahoma State University Film Program. Some images on this page are the property of a third party and are used with permission. The marks of Oklahoma State University are controlled under a licensing program administered by The Collegiate Licensing Company.

Last update: 1/22/2005