Of course it wasn’t the same. How could it be? For anyone who tuned in to the season premiere of MasterChef Australia last night, there was a colossal shadow looming over proceedings: the death a week ago of judge Jock Zonfrillo. There was no point trying to ignore it, and of course the show didn’t – apart from an acknowledgment on screen before the start, the show was also preceded by an hour-long tribute to the chef.

Channel 10 was in a no-win situation when it came to deciding what to do with this season after Jock’s passing. Some will say airing it a week later – even with the blessing of his family – was too soon, and there’s no doubt the recency of the tragedy and the rawness of the feelings made viewing the first episode, if not uncomfortable exactly, but strange, almost otherworldly. The fact that the series was wrapped months ago is no revelation, of course, but when dreadful events intrude upon the MasterChef world between taping and airing, the reality of that time lag hits like a truck.

On the other hand, what else could’ve been done? Wait until later in the year to air the show? That would’ve made the whole thing feel somehow unimportant, like the show had been shelved, to be quietly burnt off and forgotten, as if a source of shame. Or should they have simply junked this year, not put season 2023 to air at all? Quite apart from the economic realities that made this impossible, to simply throw away the work of the judges – including Jock – the 18 contestants, and the whole crew, would’ve been an awful way to treat them.

In the end, putting MasterChef to air now feels like an imperfect answer to a situation that has no perfect answers available. But now it’s been done, just how did it work, or not work?

Like I said, it was strange. All the familiar MasterChef elements were there: cast introductions, at-home montages, frantic cooking and the judges doing the rounds of the benches to question, advise and generally distract the cooks from their tasks. There was also Jamie Oliver, whose presence in the kitchen was a big deal and probably would’ve felt like one, if it hadn’t been for that much bigger deal overshadowing it.

The strangest part was watching Jock himself. That famous grin, the suave swagger, the boundless energy with which he zooms around the kitchen, full of encouragement and cautions as well as a sense of humour that never leaves him. Jock Zonfrillo took food deadly seriously but knew there was no point in doing so if you’re not having fun. Back in the MasterChef kitchen, Jock is having fun … and it makes it all the more difficult to make sense of the fact that he’s gone.

It’s to be hoped that this series can stand as a tribute to the man and a celebration of his life and work – but it might take a while for us to get to that point. For now, it did sting a little to watch. Not that it wasn’t good: for MasterChef fans Jock Zonfrillo in top form is a delight, and remains a delight. But this time it’s a delight that collides with sadness and hurt.

It really has to be noted here that, of course, MasterChef isn’t and wasn’t a one-man show. The first episode introduced a whole new motley crew with a variety of backgrounds and philosophies to get to know. The fact that their season of the show is one struck by catastrophe doesn’t mean they’re any less worthy of our attention than any other year’s class.

Victorian admin manager Cath is tailor-made to become an audience favourite, a boisterous mum with her Aussie-ness dialled up to 11. Larissa, bringing her combined Ukrainian-Russian heritage to her cooking, carries a warmth and sincerity that is immediately engaging, while excitable Rue fizzes with magnetic energy. Ralph is a quietly charismatic giant of astonishing calm. The diversity of the contestants, and the different ways they manifest their passion, is as compelling as ever on first watch. Not everyone will find it easy to watch this year’s MasterChef, some may not be able to watch at all. But those who do should be sure that this season promises as much to enjoy as any previously.

Jock Zonfrillo in top form is a delight, and remains a delight. But this time it’s a delight that collides with sadness and hurt.

But one contestant in particular is worth focusing on, because his presence in the kitchen might have the potential to say something about the situation that we find ourselves in as we wrestle with the strangeness of watching a reality TV show while tragedy fills our hearts.

Brent Draper was a contestant in Season 13 of the show, but left voluntarily midway through the season, his mental health having suffered to the extent he did not feel he could go on. This season he is back, having put in the work to get to a healthier place, and feeling there is unfinished business.

The most poignant moment of the first episode was a flashback to Brent’s exit, featuring a scene when Jock sat with Brent one-on-one: the chef listening with empathy and compassion to the struggling amateur.

It was a snapshot of the man that reminded us painfully of how much we’ve lost, but also powerfully of how much there is to celebrate in the life he lived. There’s no doubt that making this season just such a celebration will be a difficult ask, but I’d like to believe it’s very possible.

In the end, MasterChef is a reality show. It’s got the formulas, the cliches, the well-worn moves and the manipulation of audience emotions like any other. But it’s also different from the others. MasterChef is one of the very few reality shows in history to have not felt the need to portray anyone as the villain, trusting that a show where people competing against each other forge real friendships, and even help each other in the heat of battle, could keep our attention. And it worked.

It’s a show that ratchets up the tension and milks every chance it can to produce tears. But in the end it is a show about joy. It’s a show about people finding happiness doing what they love, where even those who don’t quite fulfil their dream have at least fulfilled a little bit of it just by being there. It’s a show that has the power – in spite of all the cheesy TV trappings and the oft-justified cynicism of observers – to inspire.

Seeing the joy and the inspiration on display in this very first episode of 2023 gave me hope for MasterChef, a week after it seemed like the whole world had fallen in. Every year on this show we are witness to the stories of people who’ve been through hell and found hope and redemption in their food.

A TV show can’t take away the pain and devastation that everyone who knew and loved Jock is feeling right now. It can’t make it OK. But maybe, in a small way, this show that he loved, and on which he always showed his love and his ability to connect with other people, can serve not only as a fitting tribute to the man, but as a welcome reminder that to deal with pain and loss, what we need is joy, and hope, and to celebrate those parts of life that inspire us to want to live it to the full.