PREVIOUSLY ON MASTERCHEF AUSTRALIA: Sweet merciful crap, Marco Pierre White arrived literally one week into the competition and immediately began breaking everyone’s brains.
We learned that Cecilia isn’t really subtle when it comes to emotional metaphors…
…a bold hail mary that entirely relies on the off chance that one of the judges is named Nathan and is also keen on munging on a literal jizzy witch’s finger.
And if anyone thought they could get away with just the one night of Marco horror, they are in for a rude awakening.
Marco Week is in full swing.
AND NOW, LAST NIGHT.
It’s a Pressure Test night, so we’ve got to quickly establish some sort of ~very emotional hook~ for each contestant on the chopping block to hang the entire episode on. Cecilia, as we’re all acutely aware of by now (and will be made repeatedly aware of by the time this episode is through) has a family back home. Tassie Con is getting married at some point; the wedding’s been delayed, but not specifically because of MasterChef. And as for Nathaniel, he’s training to be a paramedic and that’s it?
They’re squeezing the sponge pretty hard, but there ain’t much water in that bad boy, ya feel.
Normally the “packing all my shit in case I fuck up today” sequence is nothing to write home about. But there’s one shot in particular that reveals at least one person inside MasterChef HQ is in possession of a replica WWE United States Championship belt, and now it is my season-long mission to figure out who that is.
If this is the first hint that the show’s producers are planning to pull a “and the winner of MasterChef Australia 2016 is… JOHN CEEEENA” switcheroo at the end of the series, I am ALL. BLOODY. IN.
BRAPADOO CENA WINS LOL.
Marco awaits the condemned three as they enter the kitchen, adorned in the traditional black garb of reality show death.
Today, there will be no recipe, no key ingredient, no ridiculous dish they need to concoct. Rather, the first Pressure Test of 2016 will be a task of Keeping Up With Marco, which sounds like the worst reality TV spin-off of all time.
As a completely and utterly random aside, who knew that Young Marco was actually rocking some absolutely ridiculous Jon Snow vibes?
All men must dine.
The three contestants are charged with the task of simply keeping pace with Marco as he cooks a light lunch for himself. Which is all well and good until you realise that it’s MARCO FREAKING PIERRE FREAKING WHITE and he is simply not of this earth. The contestants get a generous buffer of 10 whole seconds after Marco finishes his dish. This whole thing is like taking on a surgeon in a game of Operation and expecting it to be a close battle. Not. Gonna. Happen.
Marco begins gutting his John Dory like a goddamned serial killer, which combined with his cold demeanour and pristine white clothes has me dialling the first two 0s and hovering over a third just in case this episode takes a dark turn.
The skinning of the fish provides far more challenges that it ordinarily should. Cecilia scoots ahead and nails it, leaving Nathaniel and Tassie Con behind to fumble around with it like they’re trying to pull an explicit language warning sticker off a freshly-bought CD before Mum can spot it.
Nathaniel makes some sort of approximated job of the fish, whilst Tassie Con only really manages to skin himself, sinking the knife straight into his thumb, which is totally understandable when you’ve got Kitchen Stalin staring bullets through you every ten seconds.
World’s most pointless zoom-out aside, imagine having this gawking at you while you’re trying to handle sharp objects?
*whimpers* Yes Marco.
After missing the step with fennel, Nathaniel pops over to have a quick look at what Marco’s done, and somehow manages to see the exact opposite. His fennel ends up being all husk and no heart, which is close to a perfect metaphor for the early episodes as this show is ever likely to get.
In between everyone shouting “YES MARCO” ad nauseam we get some actual progress. Marco’s demonstrations continue to be utterly terrifying, and only get worse when he arrives at the garlic which he demands be crushed into a fine paste.
Pictured above: Celebrated chef and multiple-Michelin star recipient Marco Pierre White demonstrates what he will do to the contestants if they continue borking his dish.
Tassie Con, at this point, is an absolute rabble. His practically severed thumb is being held onto his hand by a band-aid and a rubber glove, and he counters this by attempting to gut a tomato with a cleaver, hacking away at it repeatedly. Like an uncoordinated Guns N Roses Halloween costume, it’s not a bad effort, but there’s too many Slashes.
Marco, at this point, moves on to his micro coriander, which he philosophically ponders “why do we give it a drink?” I don’t know, m8. Maybe it’s had a hard day? Maybe it just wants to forget its troubles for a little while? Maybe its been eyeing off that cute thyme plant that’s been giving it eyes all night and needs a little dutch courage before it can go break the ice?
As things wear on and Marco continues to frantically complete his work like a man who just got told there’s parking inspectors up the road, the fennel cooking sequence provides us with the two choice moments on the night.
The first involves Cecilia, who cannot stop burning her fingers on things, to which Jimmy – yet again providing highlight reel-quality footage – helpfully quips “fingers are for burning!“
YES THANK YOU JIMMY THAT IS VERY HELPFUL.
Meanwhile Tassie Con, having an absolute Barry Crocker, dobs his fennel into the pan and watches helplessly as the whole thing bursts into flames.
Emotionally spent, he stares blankly into the fire; finally beaten down so thoroughly by the task that he is unable to feel anything. He is numb. A void. Completely bereft of all feeling.
“Hello darkness, my old friend. I’ve come to talk with you again…“
But shockingly, the race for elimination is not a one-horse race. Nathaniel is making errors left and right, and is doggedly sticking to the task of cooking things for exactly the same amount of time as Marco does, despite his fish not being the same size as the master chef’s. As someone on the gantry helpfully points out “the longer you leave it in the oven, the greater the chance of it overcooking.” It’s this kind of high-level knowledge that you simply cannot acquire elsewhere, dear friends.
Marco, with a glorious flourish of his towel, signals that the end is nigh for this particular challenge.
And thus the grand plating up sprint begins. Marco sits the fish on the plate and begins to Kriss Kross some anchovies atop it, which much to my disappointment does not mean he’s putting a bunch of backwards clothes on some tiny fish.
Nathaniel attempts to hide his dish’s shortcomings by dumping more salt on it than a Player Hater’s Ball. And that, combined with his overcooked fish and husky fennel, is enough to seal his fate, giving Tassie Con the barest of bare reprieves.
Nathaniel’s actual elimination ranks as one of the more excruciating in series’ history, mostly because his anxiety levels look like they’re capable of physically ripping him in half.
Good god, man.
Just breathe. Find a happy place or something, my god. The man has more shakes than a 50s diner, I tell you.
NEXT TIME: IMMUNITY IS ON THE LINE as Marco tosses three amateur chefs into the Rancor pit and awards a fancy gold pin to whoever can claw their way out alive.
IF any of them can do it, that is.
Photo: MasterChef/Channel Ten.
