texasmesquite

'Chopped' tests the limits of imagination



BY JULIE HINDS
FREE PRESS STAFF WRITER

When life gives you lemons, you're supposed to make lemonade. But what if it gives you lemons, beets, some rice cakes, a little goat cheese and, maybe, scallops?
That's essentially the premise of one of my new favorite shows, "Chopped," a Food Network cooking competition that I tend to think of as a metaphor for life.
"Chopped" starts its second season Tuesday, and if you haven't given it a try, now's a good time. On each episode, four up-and-coming chefs have to turn an assortment of everyday -- and seemingly random -- ingredients into a three-course meal.
Before each course is prepared, the chefs open a mystery basket to reveal the ingredients they must use. (For instance, a previous dessert challenge featured prunes, cream cheese and animal crackers). One chef is chopped, or eliminated, after each course. The winner receives $10,000.
Show host Ted Allen, who gained fame on "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" and was a judge on "Iron Chef America" and "Top Chef," says the network's culinary department chooses the ingredients at "tortured, endless meetings" at which staffers debate what combinations to put together.
Why is the concept so deliciously intriguing? For one thing, the difficulty of the mystery baskets is a great equalizer, according to Allen. Even if you're a world-class chef, it's one thing to be given a piece of beef and told to create a great dish, and quite another "if I give you beef, iceberg lettuce and cheddar cheese and, let's say, light beer and you have to use them all," he says.
This is why I'm floating the thesis that surviving in 2009 is a lot like competing on "Chopped." The new normal isn't about having one or two hurdles to overcome. Worries come in heaps. If you're following the headlines, the future feels like one big mystery basket that you don't even want to peek into.
But "Chopped" is all about strategies for dealing with the unexpected. Even though there are strict time limits, it helps to take a minute and think things through. It's also good to be counterintuitively creative. "Let's say, for example, we give you tortillas," says Allen. "I really don't want to see you roll up an enchilada. I don't want to see fish tacos. I want you to be able to think to yourself, 'Hey, OK, if I take that tortilla and toast it and throw it into a food processor and grind it up, I can make a crust to put on fried chicken.' "
The message here is that you can deal with whatever life throws at you. But even if you're not buying into my premise, you still can enjoy "Chopped" as guilt-free reality-based viewing. There's no public humiliation, no eating of bugs, no desperate attempts to find romance and no marriages falling apart.
As Allen says, "The only way anybody gets hurt on 'Chopped' is if they cut their finger, which unfortunately does happen."