Love and Hate on a Dinner Plate: The Evolution of the Food Network Celebrity Crush

Whoever stated that the quickest way to a man's heart was through his stomach was slightly premature in his (or more likely her) statement. My logic in saying this can be demonstrated in watching Food Network and one of its bevy of hottie food chefs: You may look at the food and start drooling, but a bodacious TV ass will distract you from even the most delicate of frittatas. Clearly, the booty has superiority over the torte, the gazpacho, or even the GameDay Chip Dip.

How one sufficiently surveys all of the dames on Food Network is, in itself, a phenomenon of hormones and gastronomy combined. The food truly does contribute on some level (though sometimes only in a supporting role) to the personalities, presentations, and hotness of the lady chefs themselves.

When I first started watching Food Network, the woman that stood out was Rachael Ray. She's petite, cute, and got an ambitious and welcoming personality that, I believe, are meant to be the homing signal to the Food Network celebrity crush and to attract otherwise uninterested male audiences. See?



Sadly, Rachael is a mere stepping stone on our path because of one feature: her tremendous Italian mouth. She flails her arms, gabs about random shit, uses her stupid euphemisms, and eats. And eats. And eats. This is making her ass get noticeably bigger, which we know because the camera doesn't follow her ass around the kitchen at a dog's-eye view anymore.

There's a terrific Rachael Ray drinking game here, which I'd love to play some time.

Moving on from Rachael, we have the queen bee, Giada De Laurentiis.



She is my current favorite and has been holding strong in that position for quite a while now. She gives the camera an expression like she wants to take it out back for a tumble in the hay, right after she bends over to pick up some badass pasta out of the oven. She doesn't have catch phrases, she doesn't have lame ass hand expressions, just concise, focused, well-meditated hotness. She hosts parties with other young, fun people that are obviously supposed to be better than I am, and with food better than I am supposed to eat. But who cares, I didn't want to go to her stupid party anyway!

As smokin' as Giada is, other women fit other points in life better than she is, at least based on age anyway. After her we have the "trophy wife" of Food Network, Sandra Lee.



I call her the trophy wife because she hosts a show on shortcuts with food, and seems pretty static. You know what you're going to get with this one.

Interestingly enough, while doing "research" for this post, I stumbled upon a hostess who is from my hometown of Crossville, TN. Incidentally, Kelly Deadmon is way fine. I wish I could say more, but don't know enough about her and can only give her an Honorable Mention for my list.




When I am her age, I wouldn't mind being married to someone like Paula Deen.



She isn't my present object of desire, but one I could picture being so 30 years from now. Not to be confused with Ina Garten, Paula is charming and southern, reinforcing this reputation with mannerisms and slang from at least 40 years ago. She used a word the other day, something like loblolly (something at least that distinct), which made my eyebrows raise. Yes, she's actually that southern and they actually gave her a show. Anyway, she be cool and her burgers look pretty tasty, too. So she's on my list.

Ina Garten, however, is not.



Everything she cooks has about 6 pounds of butter and 14 gallons of whiskey in it, which she cooks in her house in Nantucket for her jewy little husband. Then they go walk on the shitty New England beaches and eat her food in a thermos. She hosts little parties that are only attended by other wives of rich men; women whose husbands are at work and they have to find some way to spend their time and money. Ina is starved for 1.) cholesterol and 2.) jewboy's paycheck.

She caters to the wealthy audience of the network, best demonstrated by her image. She often says things like, "Oh, so today I wound up with this three pound tuna steak" or "so here I am with all of this filet mignon and I feel like making something for a brunch that Brenda is hosting...It's going to be just wonderful for the get-together tomorrow morning." She is shown driving to her local market (not a grocery store, you white trash punks) in her brand new black Mercedes sedan. I will say her theme song is better than Giada's or Paula's, but in no way does she back it up with anything besides pride and pretentiousness.


Some foods on your plate are the ones you go right to. They get you excited and happy and hold your attention with their taste and personality. Food Network hostesses are no different. Food doesn't have boobies, though.