I have a confession to make. I don't have cable which is probably real, real good. Because if I did I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to get anything else done outside of watching shows about food.
Fortunately, we only have Netflix which is dangerous enough.
Our usual nightly routine is Rob and I winding down our day watching something together. By watching I sometimes mean bingeing on old series. The more intense the more likely we are to extend beddie-bye time. Our current series is Kitchen Nightmares. Okay, it was. We watched the last episode last week. I can't really recommend it because it's A) offensive. B) nauseating. C) highly dramatic. However, there is a sense of escapism and the whole check-out-that-accident,-don't-look,-don't-look,-whoa!!!! syndrome. My favorite episode included the owner of a reformed and fixed up restaurant that Gordon Ramsey revisited tricking him with a vegan chicken salad! Yes!
Since we watched our last episode we searched Netflix for more cooking/chef shows. We found one that's a PBS show called The Mind of a Chef Sunday around dinner time while I was continuing to convalesce. (Who slices an eye, has random rounds of gastrointestinal distress, a cough, random headaches, a raging sore throat, and intermittent blasts of fever?) (No change of life jokes allowed!) In The Mind of a Chef a different dish or topic is covered by a chef and a scientist. I got mini lessons on making gnocchi out of ramen noodles and good bacteria in food. Short episodes might be dangerous, easy to justify just one more bite.
On another note. Since I'm randomly nauseated I have not cooked a blasted thing all week. Seriously. I'm living on dry toast or cereal and tea with a random attempt at something else every once in awhile. And oddly, chocolate soy milk. Good times. At least I washed and folded laundry. Now to put it away.