Editor’s note: Today’s recap is provided by our guest commentator, Jane Austen.
I greet you all, fair friends, with pleasure and
send compliment to your families. My fair cousin, the Marchioness is indisposed and alas, unable to converse. It would seem
that the dastardly congregation of the Duchy
of Foxborough and Gillette Park have been most unseemly and foul of
character that my cousin has retired to her bedchamber. I shall send
the chirurgeon and hopefully poultices and a new pair of shoes will
provide solace.
So anon, she has requested that I send you the
news of Celebrity Cook Off, Season 2. Two leaders of society have
commenced an agreeable parlor game of cookery. One leader is the
Duchess of LOUD. Her family is not well connected yet her
pronouncements about olive oil have endeared her to many folk. The
second leader is not fair of countenance. He is a rotund ill-mannered
man who has failed to discern that his spectacles should reside on the
front of his head, and not the back. I shall
describe him further as Mr. Doughy.
We first meet the participants of this jolly
cookery game. A young woman by the name of Chili professes her love of
victuals, yet I am disturbed by her inappropriate apparel that looked en
dishabille. Perhaps she is just in a traveling
costume and will change into something more seemly and maiden-like for
tea, then supper, then conversation and games, and then for traveling.
Next is a jester who goes by Gilbert and is of a voice so ill and
demonic that he provokes melancholy. Our next
participant is introduced and is Lord Tori Spelling. He professes to
be a ‘culinary genius’ and is shown in the kitchen with his progeny. I
presume his family has no footing in society and cannot afford cook to
prepare the meals. I thus feel encouragement
and kindness towards him. Arriving next to the party is Miss Carny
Wilson. She is a performer who has been in many pantomimes and thus all
have seen her in everything and have professed fatigue for her
theatrics. A man named Hines Ward is next to our lively
group. I find him quite comely and would sample his viands at any
venue. The Lady Cornelia Guest enters and proclaims herself a
socialite. Yet I have not taken note of her when promenading around the
drawing room of any notable house. Perhaps she is from
the Continent. The Lady Kathy Najimy is next to bring us salutations.
She confesses her daughter is a ’vegan’. I own that I do not know this
word’s meaning. Perchance she is also from the Continent and thus the
word is naturally a mystery to me. Neither
she nor the Lady Cornelia will cook with meat. I confess a good leg of
mutton stirs the blood and feel sorrow they will not know its’
pleasures. Just when the parlor was bursting with vigorous new
acquaintances, another enters! Oh, friends, I am vexed that
I am unable to provide language effusive enough to describe our new
companion. He is Lord Johnny Weir and is wearing a frock of such wonder
and sparkle that I am transported to the Xanadu of Mr. Coleridge’s
description. Lord Weir also wears slippers of sparkle
and shine and I covet them in a manner that would make our parson
blush.
Much palaver ensues when the Duchess of LOUD and
Mr. Doughy appear. As when playing Whist or Commerce, the participants
form teams, each being captained by the aforementioned Duchess of LOUD
and Mr. Doughy. They are informed that each
team will provide sustenance at a dinner theatre. I am perplexed. Two
salons? Why, even Pemberley would not be of sufficient size to hold
such merriment! The meals are prepared yet so many of our companions
profess to be losing their faculties that I fear
the proper number of courses will not be ready for supper and our
industrious friends will suffer shame and gossip. Somehow meals are
completed and the butlers and footmen deliver them to the guests. I
will be candid and say I puzzled over this sustenance
and did not see any jellies, biscuits, soup or trotters among the
fare. Not even a fine claret or cordial was given to the guests.
Instead dishes by the name of “tumbleweed meatballs” and “S’mores” were
served. Prior to each course the teams did a pantomime
that was so vexing I immediately took to the divan to ease my
distemper. It was not at all a respectable pleasure.
Anon the cookery game comes to a conclusion.
The team that emerged victorious was that of Mr. Doughy. The group
confesses no astonishment to learn the participant who must leave the
estate is the tiresome Gilbert personage. His cookery
was of an inferior rank and he is banished. And so my friends the ball
reaches its conclusion and the guests retire. I presume the proper
speeches and compliments to respective families were given before
leaving in their barouches. Myself, I shall partake
in a stroll home followed by consumption of Pepto Bismol. Thus, good
friends I respectfully take your leave.
Jane
