MasterChef recap: Kilts, cute kids, raw quail and still no conclusion - it's the not so grand finale, part one
Well, it's here. The Grand Finale. The Big Dance. The Ultimate Showdown. Thunderdome. Armageddon. The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee. This is what it all comes down to. After this, there will be only one MasterChef – plus the 11 who have won before. One cook will go home with money and fame and a title. Two cooks will go home with the bitter taste of failure filling their mouths like an exploding water balloon of rancid tomato juice.
Who will win? Pete, the hirsute tattoo artist who is intent on pushing the boundaries of culinary innovation with exquisite fine dining dishes that find surprising new ways of presenting ostensibly familiar ingredients? Kishwar, the shy mother whose determination to bring us the tastes of her culinary heritage has seen her create a dazzling kaleidoscope of exuberant flavours breathing vibrant new life into ancient traditions? Or Justin, who likes to make tacos?
After the obligatory slow motions shots of the amateurs walking, emotional voiceovers regarding everyone's personal journeys, and flashbacks to memorable moments like the time Justin lay on the floor and the time Pete made that horrible carrot thing, the actual show starts. The finale is to be played out over two days, so, you know, strap in. There will be three rounds. The first round is a mystery box challenge, with ingredients chosen by eight top chefs who have appeared on the show this year. The finalists must make a dish featuring at least one of those ingredients.
The chefs line up behind their giant comedy cloches. Khanh Nguyen has brought duck. Darren Purchese has brought passionfruit. Alla Wolf-Tasker has brought weird mushrooms. That giant guy with the funny face has brought kohlrabi. A small blonde woman has brought some kind of leaf. Someone called "Josh" has brought King George whiting – the maddest of the whitings. Kirsten Tibballs has brought gold chocolate, which is presumably inedible. And finally, irritable middle-aged man has brought a bottle of weird sauce.
The finalists have 75 minutes to do something vaguely interesting with one or more of these things. Kishwar notes that the judges love her Bengali dishes, but she wishes to show them a different side of her. NO! WRONG! You show the judges a different side of you when they ASK for a different side of you. When you're in the finale, you show the judges the side of you that you already KNOW they like! Geez Kishwar, are you NEW here?
Meanwhile the judges visit Pete and listen to him describe the baffling perversion that he is making. "You wanna pick up that trophy, right?" asks Jock, pointing to the Wimbledon Women's Singles Plate, which Channel Ten has stolen for the day. Pete knows this is a trick question: he admits that he wants to pick up the trophy, but cleverly does not immediately walk over and pick the trophy up, knowing from past seasons that this is a faux-pas.
Kishwar explains to Jock and Andy that she is going to stick bits of duck and fish together in a bold spin on the Frankenstein legend. Andy asks where the big flavours are coming from. Kishwar stares at the judges silently for what seems like three or four hours, occasionally twitching silently, until they go away. Kishwar has suddenly realised that in this dish she is not being true to herself. "I'm going to do an absolute 360 and change my dish entirely," she says, incorrectly. She's actually going to do a 180: if she did a 360 she'd end up facing the same way she already was. When will they learn?
Meanwhile Justin is also there. The irritable middle-aged chef, whose name is Martin, remember him? - wanders over to find out what he's doing – I didn't realise the chefs were allowed to do that. Justin explains that he's cooking mushrooms and duck. Martin tries to look interested. As do we all.
As time grows short, Justin paints his duck yellow, Pete sticks what look like Post-It notes on his fish, and Kishwar puts her food on a plate to make it easier to carry. Time runs out, and the top chefs all leave as their parking meter has run out.
The first dish to be served is Pete's fish thing. It meets with approval. Next is Kishwar's fish thing. Kishwar is tense because she has wrapped her fish in leaves, instead of the traditional cellophane. Jock finds her fish dry, but then some people find Jock dry. Last comes Justin's duck. The judges praise it but slam his mushrooms (not a euphemism).
For the first round, Kishwar scores 21 out of 30. Justin scores 21 out of 30. Pete scores 28 out of 30, which is a bit much isn't it? The gauntlet has been thrown down: Kishwar and Justin will have to do some serious kneecapping to stay in this.
Round two, which means the finalists' families have arrived to wring some sentiment out of us. It's a cheap tactic, but it works, because Pete and Kishwar have extremely cute children and it's just unbearable.
The families are here for a purpose – for a loose definition of "purpose". There are two bowls full of golden balls. One bowl's balls contain ingredients, the other's balls contain methods or techniques. Family members will select the balls that dictate what and how the finalists will cook.
Kishwar's kids pick her balls and the conviction that her daughter should have her own show grows ever stronger. One ball has white soy sauce and the other has smoke, so a soy cigar it is. Justin sends his mother and fiancée to grab hold of his balls. He gets grapefruit and fusion, so he will have to make some kind of nuclear dessert. Pete sends his daughters to the bowls and they pick quince – QUINCE – and "steamed". So Pete is going to have to really get on some fruit's nerves.
The finalists have 75 minutes to do something with their assigned elements. Their families head up to the balcony to gloat at the losing contestants. The finalists run to the pantry to gather ingredients, then come back to the kitchen. Then Justin runs back into the pantry because he forgot to get grapefruit. This is not a good sign.
Pete declares himself "frozen with fear" as he gazes at his quinces and remembers that terrible day when a quince destroyed everything he cared about. Jock comes over to tell him he's wasted seven minutes and is in danger of giving statuesque blond men a bad name. He makes a decision: quince-glazed quail. Does it sound horrible? Of course it does, it's got quince in it, but if there's one thing we've learned over the years on MasterChef, it's that the more horrible it sounds, the more the judges will probably praise it for its delicate flavour profile.
Kishwar, under the watchful eye of her parents, has decided to make a very humble peasant dish, so nobody thinks she's getting ideas above her station. As she describes it, it is a rice dish with smoked water. Smoked water. That's what she said, I'm sure of it. Water that has been smoked. I can't even.
Justin tells Andy that the "Fusion" he is going for is a fusion between his mother and the MasterChef judges. Andy assumes he means this in terms of influences, but Justin has pulled out a staple gun and is looking edgy.
As Kishwar marinates her sardines, we cut to her daughter, and god she's cute. It shouldn't even be allowed on TV, this level of cuteness. It's like an episode of Bluey written by a baby koala. "I love you mum," she calls out and everyone just collapses into a puddle. But suddenly there is a challenge. "I hope Daddy gets the trophy," chirrups one of Pete's daughters. A titanic cute-off has developed on the balcony, and the cooking below seems incredibly unimportant by comparison. Kishwar's daughter, always one to raise her game in response to the big occasion, cries out, "Go Kishwar" and dances around in circles trilling, "Oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah". That'll take some beating.
Down in the kitchen, time is up, if anyone still cares. Round two is set to be judged. Kishwar is first with her humble peasant dish of rice and sardines and…smoked…water. Yes. Smoked water. "MasterChef isn't about doing a posh dish," Jock lies. The judges eat, with their actual golden knives and forks, like the hedonistic aristos ripe for revolution that they are. They love Kishwar's peasant fare as you'd expect.
Justin brings his poached fish in curry broth. It's important to remember that he has no adorable children, so he's already at a disadvantage. But his fish is lovely. Jock declares it perfect, which is a bit over the top: it's still fish.
Pete brings forth his quince-glazed quail. It is delicious and Melissa declares the sauce "glossy", which is her favourite thing to declare sauces. But Melissa's quail is raw, which means either Pete stuffed up or he really doesn't like Melissa.
Kishwar scores 30 out of 30, making a total of 51 so far. Justin scores 29 out of 30, making a total of 50 so far. Pete scores 25 out of 30, which is a relief for those hoping to keep a semblance of suspense in this thing. He has a total of 53.
The first day of the finale is over, with one more pressure test remaining tomorrow, and so many questions yet to be answered. Who will hold their nerve in the end? What will the pressure test be? Will it involve something that looks like another thing? Will anyone suffer life-changing injuries from the liquid nitrogen? Will anyone mention the elephant in the room: Jock's close resemblance to Mr Schuester from Glee?
All these and many other answers, revealed: TOMORROW.
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