Not a foodie

As you can see from my pantry, I am definitely NOT a foodie. My palate is extremely simple, and my taste in food is mainly geared just for survival. I try to incorporate as much fiber and vitamin C into my diet as I can (when it's feasible and cheap to do so), but that's pretty much it. I don't like to cook, but I like to eat out (when it's feasible and cheap to do so). A few years ago, I watched the Food Network a lot. I taped (yes, with a VCR) about a dozen or so episodes, and I'm glad I did, because now I don't have cable (on purpose -- I just surf YouTube or buy DVDs).

The reason why I like to watch Food Network shows is the same reason I like to watch PBS how-to shows: I like to watch people teaching other people how to do stuff. I like to watch the programs for their educational and entertainment value. No, I may never cook an entire Thanksgiving meal from scratch, just as I may never use a router for a woodworking project. I think it's just fun to watch that stuff on TV. (And, frankly, I like the safety of being able to watch something without worrying if it will have a sex scene that I will need to avoid like the plague.)

But the Food Network isn't my obsession. It just reminds me of Somebody I know.

"I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will guide you with My eye. Do not be like the horse or like the mule, which have no understanding, which must be harnessed with bit and bridle, else they will not come near you." (Psalm 32:8-9)

I never realized how stressful or competitive being a chef could be until I watched the Food Network. The culinary arts are SERIOUS arts. I bow to the masters, and so does my SpaghettiOs pantry.

And I never realized how succeeding in the food industry and journeying through life are very similar processes.

About a dozen years ago, a few friends and I spontaneously watched Iron Chef on a Saturday night, and we had a great time because it was so entertaining. And I'm glad Iron Chef America was developed as a somewhat toned-down version of the Japanese show. Chopped follows a similar program structure. What basically happens in all three of these shows is that a few chefs race against one another to see who can create the best food in the allotted time. Their food and presentation are evaluated by a panel of rather candid judges. But here's the catch: The chefs have to create meals with only the ingredients provided to them, and they are often thrown some major curveballs. Seriously, how are you supposed to make an edible gourmet meal in 30 minutes using chicken, Brussels sprouts, and cotton candy? I think you have to be a major culinary expert. These competitions are pretty cutthroat. If you make one little mistake, or if you displease one or more of the judges just a tiny bit, you're history. And the whole thing is taped on national TV.

I think these crazy culinary competitions are a lot like life. In this life, you only have an allotted amount of time to make the best out of what you have. Life will throw you some major curveballs: Seriously, how are you supposed to succeed with THAT awful ingredient on your plate? And the whole world is watching you and itching to evaluate how you perform.

The Bible talks about how life is like a race and how we should run it as if there were only one prize to win (1 Corinthians 9:24). It says that we should rip off all the things that weigh us down while we're running so that we can just go for it (Hebrews 12:1).

But life isn't completely like the cooking-competition shows. On these televised events, if you fail, you fail. That's it; you're out. Take the walk of shame as graciously as you can. Then the winner gets all the accolades, the favor, the shot in the arm for his/her restaurant, the possible deal to develop a TV show of his/her own, etc.

These shows are cool, but there's another one that's my favorite.

I've talked a little bit about this on Facebook before, but I think this may be the first time I've blogged about it: Robert Irvine in his show Restaurant: Impossible reminds me a lot of God. And the people he tries to help respond to him in a way that's very similar to the way that people respond to God when He tries to help them.

On Restaurant: Impossible, Chef Robert is an alpha-male, no-nonsense restauranteur whose mission is to give failing restaurants a makeover in two days. With his trademark sledgehammer, he shows his remodeling crew exactly how he wants the made-over restaurant to look. He gets in the faces of the restaurant staff and fixes their problems as best he can.

The failing restaurants usually have very similar things in common. Many of them are run by people who aren't qualified to run/own a restaurant because they don't have previous experience or education in the industry. Many of them have very poor business sense, and they have no idea how to spend or manage their business' money. They don't set or enforce rules for their employees, who do a very poor job of maintaining the restaurant. Then many of the owners don't even show up during business hours, so they can't see the problems for themselves. Many of the bosses treat their staff like family instead of like employees, which often results in the employees doing whatever the heck they want. (Hmm. Does Chef Robert only work with restaurants? I wonder if he would be interested in making over my office...) The restaurant owners don't eat their own food, so they can't tell for themselves how awful it tastes. Their décor is atrocious and usually dusty/dirty, sometimes with sticky floors and/or tables. Then they wonder why people don't want to eat at their restaurant. And they get overly defensive and make all kinds of foolish excuses when they're faced with the truth.

Chef Robert can be very harsh and severe, and he rubs a lot of people the wrong way, but you have to respect the guy for being so passionate, knowledgeable, and results-driven in his job. The episodes usually end with the restaurant staff crying, hugging him, and thanking him.

I love this show. It's the same thing every time, and yet every episode is different because it involves different people in different locations in different situations. After I watch the show, I like to dig around online and see how the restaurants are doing after their big makeovers. Some of them learned from their makeover experience and are succeeding. Others threw out a lot of Chef Robert's suggestions and went back to their old menu items, but their restaurants are still surviving. Many others ended up going out of business anyway shortly after their makeover.

I remember reading at least one article that critiqued Restaurant: Impossible, saying that by the time Chef Robert arrives, many of the restaurants' problems are so far out of hand that going out of business is already inevitable. In two days, his crew accomplishes remodeling work that normally would take months to complete. And then he leaves town.

Chef Robert is definitely an awesome kick in the butt to the restaurant owners on his program. But sometimes after you get a necessary kick in the butt, you need somebody to hold your hand and help you through your mess.

This is one way in which Chef Robert is very different from God.

God is a Consuming Fire, but He's also very gentle. And He's not a consultant. He's in charge. He's a Friend. He's Family. He wants to come alongside you and help you. He wants to stay around before, during, and after the reconstruction period in my life, and then He wants to stick around forever. And I want that, too. He isn't in a hurry to get everything done in two days. He's willing to take however long it takes.

When I eat out, one disappointment that I've encountered recently is that it's hard to find a regular hamburger and fries at a sit-down restaurant. (Unless I've just been looking in all the wrong places.) All the restaurants I've tried nowadays have fancy gourmet burgers. I'm not interested in fancy gourmet stuff. I'm interested in a well-cooked slab of meat between two buns, decorated with lots of crunchy veggies, and maybe a few dabs of ketchup. I've learned that I don't really want a regular hamburger and fries at a sit-down restaurant anymore. I want a drive-thru meal from Whataburger. I am not a foodie. I love chain restaurants. I love fast-food drive-thrus. I love knowing what I'm getting.

One major thing that I appreciate about God is that I never have to wonder what I'm getting with Him. He will never disappoint me. In fact, He's already told all of us who He is; it's just a matter of us believing Him. I don't have to wonder where I stand with Him. He already made a covenant with me: He will never leave me or forsake me, He has already adopted me for life/forever/eternity, He will awesomely kick me in the butt whenever I need it, He will always love me, He will always want me, He will always want to be close to me, and He will always be faithful to me. And He just wants all of me in return. And He's got it.

"The voice of the Lord shakes the wilderness; the Lord shakes the Wilderness of Kadesh. The voice of the Lord makes the deer give birth, and strips the forests bare; and in His temple everyone says, 'Glory!' " (Psalm 29:8-9)

Yeah, that's right. When life throws me some major curveballs, He will come alongside me, hold my hand, carry me, let me latch onto Him, and teach me how to maneuver through it. And the equipment He uses is much more powerful than a dinky little sledgehammer.

No chef could ever compete with Him.