There is nothing about this show that entertains me, and quite honestly, it's offensive to all of the Food Network's loyal followers. Just because someone hasn't graduated from the Le Cordon Blue or won a James Beard award doesn't mean they can't cook. Everything about the show feels forced and uncomfortable. Everything from Geoffrey's awkward and hollow demeanor to Graham Elliot's tight fitting button-ups and rosy cheeks. The show drags on for an hour, round after round, making me wish I started something else for the night. Overall, I would say it's an underwhelming Food Network program that shouldn't get the airtime it does. This show was forced and here is how it all went down:
GZ started off with the persona of a hip middle-aged man, a wealth of knowledge in regards to cooking, and a sharp dresser. He began on Chopped and The Kitchen and everyone came to know him as a humble, stylish guy that critiqued food in a succinct, articulate manner. His ratings soared and the Network loved him. The thing is, GZ never anticipated on being as big of a star as the Network made him. Although he carried the image of a cool cat, deep down he's an awkward, spineless simpleton.
He started to get full of himself and began pitching ideas to the Network that he thought of while laying in bed at night. He started to come out of his modest shell. It was awkward. But his ratings were killing it. The Food Network had to listen to him. He was doing something right.
He started to become super enthusiastic about picking out the cons in a sea of cooks. Being the pretentious chef he is, he loved to nitpick cooking techniques and minor flaws in other people's work. Although his proposal to the Network was unflattering and awkward, they gave it the nod of approval. "It's Geoffrey Zakarian. How bad could the ratings be?"
Now we have the show we all know and love to this day. GZ was never meant to be a frontman and the Food Network, audience, and even himself, know that very well. He was given a chance to make something of his fairly impressive track record, but he let it crash and burn like the Hindenburg. Geoffrey kept up with the hip image for one too many years, now he's stuck way outside of his element having to maintain this fashionable identity that makes him awkward in his own two shoes.
1/10
GZ started off with the persona of a hip middle-aged man, a wealth of knowledge in regards to cooking, and a sharp dresser. He began on Chopped and The Kitchen and everyone came to know him as a humble, stylish guy that critiqued food in a succinct, articulate manner. His ratings soared and the Network loved him. The thing is, GZ never anticipated on being as big of a star as the Network made him. Although he carried the image of a cool cat, deep down he's an awkward, spineless simpleton.
He started to get full of himself and began pitching ideas to the Network that he thought of while laying in bed at night. He started to come out of his modest shell. It was awkward. But his ratings were killing it. The Food Network had to listen to him. He was doing something right.
He started to become super enthusiastic about picking out the cons in a sea of cooks. Being the pretentious chef he is, he loved to nitpick cooking techniques and minor flaws in other people's work. Although his proposal to the Network was unflattering and awkward, they gave it the nod of approval. "It's Geoffrey Zakarian. How bad could the ratings be?"
Now we have the show we all know and love to this day. GZ was never meant to be a frontman and the Food Network, audience, and even himself, know that very well. He was given a chance to make something of his fairly impressive track record, but he let it crash and burn like the Hindenburg. Geoffrey kept up with the hip image for one too many years, now he's stuck way outside of his element having to maintain this fashionable identity that makes him awkward in his own two shoes.
1/10