Moments of Brevity

The Wicked Witch is DEAD!



My prayers have been answered and by prayers I mean my grease fueled brain hemorrhage I had while watching the ‘TV’ show Kitchen Nightmares over the years.  When I first saw the original incarnation Ramsay’s Kitchen Nightmares on BBC, I had hope it would somehow go under the radar and not be noticed by American network television executives.  My worst fears were realized when Fox brought the series over in 2007 after killing it, desecrating the remains, and amputating the Rasmay’s, to create the steaming pile of Nightmare’s for our viewing pleasure the last seven years or so.


The original show gave the impression Chef Ramsay was there with his best intentions and it seemed as though he actually cared about helping his fellow countrymen turn things around.  The kool-aid was flowing and I was guzzling that shit like a Freshman at a frat party.  That’s not to say there weren’t fits of rage or cussing, but what made the show entertaining was the back-and-forth between the owners and the chef’s and Chef Ramsay himself.  One week it was an upscale fine dining restaurant, the next a mom and pop B&B.  It crossed boundaries and price points and cuisine.  The heart of the show was righting the ship and having an underdog story with a happy ending.


As the soon as the show jumped the pond, it looked markedly different and by different I mean it had the look and smell of every other generic scripted ‘Reality’ TV show.  I feel like some producer said ‘We need him to be more Ramsay-y.’  If some cussing and yelling were good in the UK, than quadruple it and it will be that much better in the U-S of A.  (Like the ‘let’s put bacon on everything’ fad.)  The American version lost sight of the restaurant and the story.  Instead of molding an episode out of the restaurant, they made the restaurant a show.  Turning everyone, including the host, into sock puppets and caricatures.  Congrats American TV, you’ve ruined another great TV show from abroad.


Rest in peace, Kitchen Nightmares, or whatever you were called.  You had no clue the horrors that were inevitably going to be done to you.  Like a lamb being led to slaughter or that torture scene in Braveheart, with the racist guy who lives in Malibu.  I’d like to thank you for all you contributed in your seven short vomit-inducing years on television.  You’re in a better place now.



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