The last seven days

This is just a quick update for you all on what I've been doing in the last week, so you can really sink your teeth into a whole bunch of me at once.

For example, if you want to read me in The Age on the subject of television, you can.

And if you want to read me in The Guardian on the subject of the Labor Party, you can. 

Or perhaps you'd like to check out my exclusive interview with Australia's Federal Racism Commissioner in the King's Tribune?  (and while you're there, subscribe FFS)

But maybe you'd rather read me on rugby union?

Or rugby league?

Probably you'll get the most satisfaction out of my piece on asbestos and how the government is using it to kill us, on New Matilda. (subscribe there too. Jesus)

Or you could just kick back and relax with my recap of the first episode of the new series of Masterchef.

Not that you need to, because my friend Dan Hall and I have covered all bases re: Masterchef's return in episode one of a brand new web series by GAMers Cam Smith and myself, MASTERCHAT. Check it out below, and stay tuned for next week's ep.







OK that's all for this week. There'll be some more stuff next week. Don't say that I never do anything for you people.

The Night I Won Masterchef

*This story was read by me last night as a guest at the wonderful Fan Fiction Comedy at Melbourne Town Hall as part of the Melbourne International Comedy Festival. It's a great night, there are only two more shows this weekend - catch them while you can.

It was dark when I stepped into the Masterchef kitchen that night. Filming had finished hours ago, but I had been summoned back by an anonymous note pushed under my door, reading, "Come to the kitchn. Urgent. Bring garnish."

As I looked around the empty kitchen, breathing in the aroma of capsicum, sweat and broken dreams, a voice boomed in the darkness.

"Welcome...to your final challenge."

"But I already did the final challenge! I made Heston Blumenthal's ice-cream pheasants! I made the liver parmigiana! I did everything you asked!"

"HAHAHA! No - nobody wins Masterchef without doing...the REAL final challenge!"

And with that, Matt Preston stepped out of the shadows. As always he wore his trademark cravat. As was less usual he wore nothing else.

"M-m-m-Matt," I stammered. "Your croquembouche is showing!"

He stepped forward, his spiced chorizo glinting in the moonlight. He leaned in close. "It's time...for the mystery box!"

With that he whipped open a wooden box on the benchtop, revealing three bananas, half a chicken and a riding crop.

"What can you make of this?" he whispered, his breath rich with the scent of lust and sun-dried tomatoes.

"I...I guess some sort of terrine?" I began, but I had no time to finish before I was pressed against the bench, Preston's chipolatas frenetically tenderising my sirloin.

"You...YOU'RE the hero of this dish!" Matt gasped, stuffing my fresh squab with his salted rolled pork. "The presentation leaves a little to be desired, but the flavours are all there! The bitterness of your rumballs, the sweetness of your glazed beef shoulders, and the firm filling inside your succulent creampie," he grunted. "Just needs...more SAUCE!" and with a mighty bellow, he covered my steaming platter with his freshly-made hollandaise.

From there it was a blur of baking and roasting and saucing and basting and stewing in each others' juices and the occasional random scream of "Schnitzel!" I found myself passed from chef to chef, as each one forced me to submit to their depraved culinary whims. Whether beating Gary Mehigan's eggs with all my might to produce custard for his crusty buns, delicately smearing white chocolate icing on Donna Hay's sticky date pudding, or drizzling Margaret Fulton's pungent fish pie with what she called verjuice bukkake, I did it all. Until finally, I was letting George Calombaris batter my dolmades, screaming, "We're nearly there, just ten seconds left, time to BOOM BOOM SHAKE THE ROOM!" and with a last spurt of honey mustard it was over, and I lay panting in a pool of my own foie gras.

"Now..." I pleaded. "Now am I Australia's next Masterchef?"

Matt smiled, a smile made of equal parts lasciviousness and macaron crumbs. "Not yet," he growled. "Because now...we're going to have sex."

ENTER NOW!

You probably know that Masterchef - or as it is known in my world, #masterchef - has entered "Finals Week", the week when we get down to the nitty-gritty, come to the crunch, and are struck about the head and shoulders by the rubber on its way through to the road.

For a poignant description of the opening of Finals Week, check out my Sunday night recap here.

But in addition to that piece of - yes, no false modesty here - genius, I am also celebrating Finals Week with a COMPETITION!

A competition I tried to run before, but nobody entered so it didn't really work out. Hopefully it will work out this time.

The competition revolves around my sort-of-a-hit book, Superchef!



Specifically, it revolves around the recipes contained in the book: recipes like Myst's Apple and Cabbage Puree; Esther's Stress Water; Steve's Cyanide Noisettes; Tenielle's Suburban Parma, and many more.

What I want YOU, my faithful readers, to do is:

1. Choose a recipe from the book.

2. Make that recipe.

3. Take a photo of the results.

4. Send that photo to pobjie.ben@gmail.com

All photos sent in will be published on this very blog, and the BEST efforts - as judged by an expert panel comprising me, my wife, my son and maybe my friend Cam - will receive a very special prize: a SIGNED COPY of my anthology Handy Latin Phrases, known among "fans" who I just made up as "the Pobjie bootlegs".



This early opus of mine contains such works as "The Black Cat", "The Man Who Looked Like a Fish From Certain Angles", and "Franz Kafka, Grocery Boy", and is a rarity in Me-lore.

So there is the contest, and it is just waiting for you eager beavers to get in the kitchen and start entering. Here is an example of the sort of thing you might submit, a beautiful example of Tenielle's Suburban Parma:




So what are you waiting for? Get cooking, and you are in with a chance of not only fabulous prizes, but GLORY!

Stand the Heat, Get in the Kitchen!

First of all, apologies for the break in transmission. I haven't been able to muster a blog post for a while, because, well, myriad reasons which hopefully I can soon expand on.

But soft! The main thing is to transmit to you the news of the day!

SUPERCHEF IS HERE!




Yes, my meisterwerk is in stores, on shelves, on sale, available in shops and online and all over the place! Do buy it, it would be a nice thing to do. I promise it's funny, and will hopefully delight and amaze both fans of MasterChef and fans of jokes. Oh, and fans of cool illustrations, which in this case were done by the masterful Steve Keast. So go, buy, read, tell your friends, spread the word, spread the gospel, spread the Chefpion philosophy. And get that #superchef hashtag trending!

Want to know more about Superchef? Why not watch this instructive promo?



Or check out one of the recipes from Superchef: Jessie's Sex Pizza:



Jessie says: Go knead that dough!




And the recipes are the crux of this next bit: a COMPETITION!

Since you are all enormous Superchef fans, you will already be familiar with the useful and nutritious recipes to be found within the tome. Not just the Sex Pizza, but also Steve's Cyanide Noisettes, Esther's Stress Water, and many more.

So what I'm asking from you, Supercheffers, is to see just what you bring the hotplate. Get working on those recipes, make them in the comfort of your own homes, and show us all how they turned out! Send photos of your efforts to pobjie.ben@gmail.com, I'll post all dishes on the blog, and the best efforts will receive...

A WONDERFUL PRIZE OF SOME SORT!!!!

Excited? I know you are! To get those creative juices flowing, here's an example we prepared earlier: one eager chefpion's take on Myst's Apple and Cabbage Puree!




Mmmmm! Is that your tummy I hear rumbling? But I know you can match that, so break out the spatulas! Hop to it! Your work will be seen by...well, a few people. A few people read this blog right? C'mon now, we're cooking with gas! Or electricity, whatever.

And thank you, thank you, thank you for reading. I am very proud of Superchef and I do hope you all enjoy it.