MKR contestants crumble at hectic fast food challenge

MAKE a three-course meal from scratch in just 90 minutes? Even a seasoned chef would find that difficult — so how do the MKR contestants cope?

THERE’S less than a week to go on our MKR journey (we’re required by law to call it a ‘journey’), and you know what that means.

Pressure.

There are three cookers under pressure in this picture.

In this, the last of the quarterfinals, there’s no time for anything except cooking, giving each other encouraging high-fives, and making faces like this:

If your doctor ever makes this face, worry.

For the first challenge tonight, teams have to cook a full three-course meal in 90 minutes, running each dish up to the judges’ tasting table as it’s ready. The challenge is cutely called ‘fast and fresh’ instead of ‘sphincter-clenching and early hospitalisation due to hypertension’, because the writers of this show are seasoned, talented professionals.

Mind you, the writer that usually scripts Pete Evans’ opinions about food has gone on holiday, leaving a hurriedly-scrawled note that just says “If in doubt, just say ‘wow’”. It’s the same script writer that has written every single Owen Wilson movie.

But QUICK, there’s NO TIME. A horseracing commentator would have trouble keeping up with this, as entrees, mains and desserts are flung together, chucked on plates, shuttled to the tasting table, and almost dropped on the floor.

Mark and Chris’s rubbish pile or entree? A nation decides.

There’s mussels and crispy chicken skin and tuna rice paper rolls and spice-rubbed salmon and bits of stuff flying everywhere and swearing, and Betty & David racing Amy & Tyson to be finished first.

And Pete says “wow”.

There’s steak searing and zucchini pickling and pork braising and snapper deep-frying and something called pepper water and seriously what is pepper water, and some people are making dessert while others haven’t even served their entree.

And Pete says “wow”.

There’s peaches three ways and undercooked rice pudding and pina colada-flavoured sorbet and getting that pina colada song stuck in your head and bashing nuts and WHY DOESN’T ANY ICE CREAM MACHINE EVER WORK PROPERLY EVER.

And Pete says:

Wow.

It’s really very stressful indeed.

If there’s one thing amid the kerfuffle that’s abundantly, almost calmly clear though, it’s that Amy and Tyson are guns. If they don’t make it to the grand final I’ll eat my hat, provided they cook it for me and I buy a hat. The pair are, unsurprisingly, the winners of the first challenge, and with only whisker of ability and flavour between the remaining teams, Tim & Kyle face Mark & Chris in a sudden death cook-off. This time they have 90 minutes to make just one meal, but it has to be the dog’s bollocks. Figuratively speaking. Although I bet Tim and Kyle could make a hell of a jus for that.

There won’t … it isn’t … I mean, it’s not going to be a surprise outcome, is it. Tim and Kyle could pretty much blow their nose on a plate and murder one of the judges and they’d still be bookies’ favourite.

About as even-sided as the vaccination debate.

Still, let’s go along with it and listen to the stressful music and pretend that the resulting dishes both show the same level of skill and deliciousness. Let’s go along for that ride. At least we get to watch Kyle’s arms chop things from a bird’s eye view above while we do.

This is what it sounds like when doves sigh.

Tim and Kyle calmly and resolutely make a tender beef cheek with a mushroom and bone marrow gravy, tickled gently under the chin by cauliflower done two ways. They work up a gentle, fashionable sweat, their main concern being whether or not this is, actually, the most delicious sauce they have ever made.

But let’s check back on the other kitchen. How’s it going, boys?

Like watching a blind four-year-old play tennis against Serena Williams.

Look, it’s fine. Mark and Chris are fine. They’re making soft beef short ribs with soft polenta, soft guacamole, and marginally less soft charred corn. Plus as they say, they’re serving their dish on a chopping board as a ‘point of difference’. Naw. If you’re pegging your hopes on a piece of wood, you’re the one that’s cooked, sweetie.

Mop and bucket, aisle four.

It’s a valiant, endearing, noble battle between a best-in-show mastiff and an asthmatic chihuahua. But we know who wins.

OR DO WE?!

Have the producers of reality television once again led us, trusting and ovine, down one path, only to pull the culinary rug out from under our credulous feet with one of their diabolic twists?!

Nope.

Tim and Kyle win. Mark and Chris are eliminated. It’s exactly as expected.

Hiding your shock well, gentlemen.

Bye, Mark and Chris. Thank you for your time and your valuable twin legacies: that you cooked kind of okay food, and that you had a weird laugh.

Jo Thornely is a writer who loves it when you explain her jokes back to her on Twitter. Follow her @JoThornely