MASTERCHEF SINGAPORE S02E02 RECAP!

TLDR: Pan Fried Seabass, Not Enough Salt, But Lots of Tears, Don't serve white rice on Masterchef

The Cast

The heroes from Episode 1 are joined by the other finalists we haven't gotten to meet yet: there's Danial, son of none other than DIANA QUEEN OF THE HOME COOKS from Season 1, who together with the other sambal queens turned out plate after plate of assured, beautiful modern Malay dishes. Then there's Vasun who's sassy, sharp, and wants to open a "modern thosai cafe," which, excuse me yes. Then there's Ganesh, a former SAF man who is also all about the spice or, as Bjorn kind of problematically puts it: "big boy big flavours," which, I dunno, Bjorn, big mouth bad jokes?

The cast is rounded up with Zephyr and Melissa who don't seem at all uninteresting but might as well not have been on this episode (sorry ladies, I'm sure your moment will come in the next one, if the producers allow).

Round One: Mystery Box !

The first challenge this week is the classic Masterchef Mystery Box challenge! Basically: there's a box, it's mysterious, and inside are ingredients the contestants have to use in some shape or form in their dish. The mechanics for this get increasingly whack later, but we'll get to that in a bit because for some reason the segment is opened by Clown of the Chinese Diaspora: UNCLE ROGER, live-streaming in from my beloved second-home: London.

This really turned my stomach in a couple of ways. First of all: it just seems so desperately irrelevant and calculated only for TV ratings. OMG the excruciating mental calisthenics they go through to justify him being on the show: oh Uncle Roger "challenges the authenticity of Asian dishes" and takes on chefs as famous as Gordon Ramsay and Jamie Oliver blAH BlaHH blaHA...

Right. I get that Roger's become a bit of a mini hero in the world of East-West Internet relations for taking the piss out of bastardised versions of Asian cooking. But let's remind ourselves that this is also the show where in Season 1, "another sambal?" was an actual critique an actual contestant got from an actual judge, and in this episode, that same actual judge actually says: "white rice? never serve on Masterchef" (more later).

Also, on a purely curatorial level: if Uncle Roger is on the show, shouldn't this be a fried rice challenge (which this wasn't)? Something tells me they only managed to get him on the show fairly late and had to find some kind of ham-fisted way to work him in, because for the majority of the cook he's just lurking there on the monitor like some cheekopek uncle watching a cam-girl make instant noodles. I guess that kind of is in character for him.

It's probably also a bad time to bring up his sort of egregious CCP tankie-pandering or his pretty flabby comedy, some of which we get a taste of in this guest spot: "Mitchelle is it you think you will win because the box has an 'M' on it?" 

I've at this point fully gone on too much about Uncle Roger so let's just ignore that he's there for the rest of this bit, which isn't difficult to do, though I do wonder a few things: how many orange shirts does he have, and how much does he charge for these appearances? 

Anyway, it bears repeating that despite Uncle Roger's appearance, this is not a fried rice challenge. It's a cook with whatever's in the box challenge. Surprise! They've got some quail, sea bass, purple potatoes, garam masala, pandan, and other spices. On top of this, there's some really hokey challenge mechanic where the contestants are encouraged to take a gamble with their time: they have an hour to finish, but if they finish ahead of time, whatever time they don't use gets rolled over onto the next challenge. If the dish pleases the judges, they're safe for the episode, if not, they're potentially up for elimination.

I find this a slightly tiresome mechanic, and from a culinary point of view makes very little sense. I get that if you're trying to push home-cooks who're used to the luxury of time to think in a more cheffy, time-crunchy, Table of 9 breathing down their necks kind of way, time management is an essential skill to test. But also those chefs have entire prep teams and an entire line of cooks making individual components of individual components. What exactly is the point of incentivising these cooks to rush through their dishes, and then telling them, with an air of disappointment: NOT ENOUGH FLAVOUR? This is the resounding chorus of Episode 2.

Maybe all this fuss makes for... better TV? I mean does it? This challenge ends up being almost mind-numbingly boring. For all the reality TV high-jinks, we end up with, basically, a parade of pan-seared sea bass on a bed of mashed potatoes, and some roasted quail on... beds of mashed potatoes. I literally lost track of whose sea bass on mashed potatoes was being served at any point.

That said, the stand-out dishes from this cook include: Mitchelle's smoked quail and side of oily rice, Derek's roasted quail with rhubarb compote, and Vasun's elegantly-plated Tandoori Fish with Socarrat (Spanish scorched rice). 

Mitchelle, incidentally, finishes within 24 minutes and cue reality TV sword sound as Trish nearly breaks her neck from whiplash looking up from her seabass on mashed potatoes. I'm screaming at this point because it's fully "DON'T BE TOO COCKY, MITCHELLE" and also 'cuz literally all that's on her plate is quail and a pat of rice. It literally looks like something you might get served at Tenderfresh minus the watery coleslaw.

Plus, as Audra cuts into the quail it's all bated breath as she ominously goes: "UH OH, is it done?" and I'm like MITCHELLE you were too COCKY!

Ad Break

It's a cliffhanger moment so we have to cut to advertisements. Thankfully the Elvin Ng x Rui En KFC ad is no longer running, but that's because, as I learned, the Goldspice chicken has been phased out. I only know this because the ad obviously worked and I found myself craving it, only to be disappointed. KFC has a new ad, featuring an Asian Colonel Sanders which is incredibly disturbing to watch.

Mystery Box Cont'd

I'll give it to the producers: this was a real nail-biter, because throughout the ads I was googling "how to cook quail" and my WhatsApp chatgroup was all a flutter about pride and falling.

Cut back to the show, and Audra goes "oh no I reckon it's fine" in a slightly coquettish way that suggested to me the whole thing might have been scripted. Mitchelle literally explodes from relief. Turns out Mitchelle's "almost raw" quail, as Audra puts it, is a hit, though Damian comes in with the more culinary term, "medium," which is just how he likes his quail. At this point I'm just happy for Damian that he has a preferred way to eat quail because quail is something I've literally only eaten once in my life and wouldn't be able to tell apart from a very small and gamey chicken. 

Mitchelle's gamble with Time pays off: the judges clear her to proceed, and she gets to ascend to the Hall of Heroes to watch the rest of the seabass on mashed potatoes action. 

Derek's beautifully-plated quail with rhubarb compote is also gorgeous and features an apparently wonderful pairing of acidity and gamey fowl. Sadly, it's under-salted and lacks dimension, but mad props to the elegant idea and plating. 

Vasun's offering is a gorgeous series of 3 bite-sized Saccorat "wafers" atop which sit the most beautifully laid out tandoori fish. "Wow you've got colour," says Damian, probably a snub at all the bland-looking seabass on mashed potatoes he's been served previously. "Of course," says Vasun, "I'm Indian," and I felt a collective, almost sexual, wave of excellence just wash across the nation at that point. "I don't do minimalism," she adds, post-coitally. The judges like her offering but the rice sticks to their teeth, which in these competitions is apparently a deal-breaker. As they deliberate about whether or not to move her on to join Mitchelle, Damian shakes his head like a PAP minister talking about the minimum wage. 

Side bar here to discuss Damian really coming into his own as the curmudgeonly bad cop on this show. Of the three judges it's worth pointing out he's the most highly-reputed, and a real subject-matter expert. But he also has a way of looking like he disapproves of you and your ancestors, and is likely to say he in fact knew your ancestors on the ship that brought them all to the country, and you know what, he didn't care for their food either. 

For the most part, every dish that comes to the table is criticised for not having enough flavour and, most bizarrely, not having enough salt. Obviously this is a function of panic: flavour takes time to build, and you need the presence of mind to taste constantly for seasoning. There's an obvious Jedi lesson in question here: patience! But also that restaurant chefs have a very heavy hand with the salt (for good reason!) 

As a result, the rest of the challengers don't do too well. Notable not-so-greats include: Danial s/o DIANA QUEEN OF THE HOME COOKS attempting to make a kind of quail butter curry with fried rice. In truth it does look a bit sad and watery, and I can't imagine it's possible to braise game in an hour let alone the 30-40 minutes he's trying to clock here, which results in flat and bland yellow watery quail.

Inch's sliced seabass on a purple potato and black garlic puree looks kind of indistinct. The critique she gets is: there's too much going on, though what exactly is going on is a little unclear from the unfortunate brown smear on the plate.

Nor, who's at some point apoplectic with panic (and tears) because she's not preheated the oven, has opted for an Isaan-style spiced quail, though because of her oven gaffe finishes last. We all want a rousing story here about TAKING THE TIME, but sadly her quail hasn't picked up any of the spicy Isaan flavours she was hoping for and is drowned out by the accompanying sauce (which, if memory serves me well includes mushroom and cheese? which gives me more mushroom Swiss, less Isaan). 

Ganesh, as well, fails to impress with whatever it is he served up, and I only remember one bit from his judgment which was Damian going: DON'T SERVE WHITE RICE ON MASTERCHEF. Let this be a PSA, everyone, don't serve white rice on Masterchef Singapore. Only elevated starches allowed. Let it be known! Your rice must either be blue, burnt, brown, or paella, OR be a form of grain not endemic to this part of the world, e.g. arborio, Japanese, quinoa, couscous, bulghur, OR God's own mana. 

Elimination Round!

Derek, Inch, Danial, Ganesh, Trish, and Nor are up for elimination, and we're told it's going to be a double elimination, because why not? We're in a pandemic, people, the fewer the better. As per Masterchef tradition, they can make whatever they want using the handy Red Mart pantry, though there's some stupid time-related mechanic here where they're handicapped by however much time was left on the clock from the previous challenge.

Look I'm just a simple, not even very successful playwright, and can't claim to understand how reality TV is made, but can I just put it to the producers that it might be worth taking Damian's advice to Inch: less can and often is, more? The Mystery Box challenge should be showcasing creativity, and instead what we get is basically 30 minutes of panic. It's not enjoyable watching panic, especially if, like me, your life is an endless stream of anxiety. 

As further example to the producers sticking far too much in this episode: this round kicks off with the bottom five receiving pre-recorded messages of encouragement from their loved ones which is SO fucking hokey. I mean, as reality TV dramaturgy goes, surely this is something for much further down the line? We've only just met these people and now we're meeting their mothers and SAF pilot husbands too? I mean, the biggest pay-off here is learning that Derek's parents are hawkers, which is always a +100 to me because we LOVE a down-to-earth origin story. Other than that this Hallmark moment feels a little un-deserved, low-key exploitative, and omg LESS CRYING MORE COOKING please.

This elimination round is really hard to watch. The moral support messages have added a pallor of ancestral gloom over the proceedings, and everyone's nerves seem a little frazzled from the first challenge. The time mechanism also makes this round a little uneven, since some people have massive head-starts, while the others just sit anxiously by waiting to start. Why, this early in the competition, we've got a time challenge at all, is beyond me: we want to know these cooks for their creativity, not their speed.

Everyone seems to fall apart: Ganesh, who's making a rack of lamb with naan, burns his lamb, Inch, who's making some sort of dumpling, fumbles with the dough, and Danial (what would Diana think?!) keeps lopping sugar into his sambal. Comically, Ganesh for the life of him can't find basmati rice in the pantry (cut to the camera lingering bitchily over a bag of it right under his nose that in his panic he doesn't see), which I think is just him being punished for the audacity of wanting to serve rice again.

Some positive highlights from this round include Trish expertly filleting a whole fish without the aid of her husband (who they manage to bring up AGAIN this episode, seriously wtf) and Nor making a come-back like Luke Skywalker on the Mandalorian. Nor is all Jedi calm and practically levitating with the simplicity of her Gambas Al Ajillo, which she says is inspired by brunch with her family (LUCKY FAMILY). Derek, too, is a picture of excellence, making some sort of carrot, orange curd and maple dessert with saffron pistachio ice cream. "To be a good chef you gotta have a bit of madness," he muses on his flavour pairings, with his wide-eyed, sunshine smile. Someone put that on a T-shirt! I'm obviously so smitten, and am probably not alone: "wah, two Thermomixes," quip either Zephyr or Melissa, who are safe but forgotten, as Derek starts work. It's the same way me and my girlfriends in JC used to say "wah he sports captain leh".

I think everyone's got a bit of a crush on Derek who, gamely, fist-bumps everyone at the end of the round. As someone in my Whatsapp chat quipped, "last time confirm is OGL". Singapore really loves an engineer with a creative side.

Meanwhile, Audra watches over the proceedings with a kind of school-principal severity. In her red Cheongsam she really does look the part, and her face is set in a perpetual frown, rivalled only by Damian's purse-lipped look of constant disapproval. She and Damian, together, look like they could headline a Netflix special about two disillusioned Eurasian school teachers who rob a bank and go on a wild and catastrophic bender through Malaysia, disapproving of various regional M'sian cooks along the way. I ship this series, and will write it if someone gives me money.  Audra and Damian do seem to get the most screen time this episode, as my mother astutely pointed out: "Eh where's the Bon ah (she means Bjorn), the talkative one? Oh there, he come back from toilet already."

Anyway, the cook comes to a finish. Nor's Spanish shrimp impress the judges to the point that Audra christens her "the soul lady". Am I alone in finding this just a touch iffy? I'm not sure how soul translates through prawns, and maybe this is ultimately a nod to how EMOTIONAL Nor gets on the show, and perhaps I might be reading too much into the racial-social-cultural meanings of the term "soul" in the context of food... but let it go Joel. 

Derek's masterful dessert gets him another ecstatic exclamation from Bjorn "ARE YOU SINGAPORE'S NEXT BEST PASTRY CHEF?" It's a bit of a declension from "THIS IS MICHELIN QUALITY DUDE", but life is an ebb and flow, after all, and Bjorn has to make whatever screen time he gets this episode count.

As expected, Nor and Derek fly to safety, and it's Danial, Ganesh, and Inch, who face the chop. 

Inch has taken Damian's less-is-more warning to heart and serves up a very minimalist pink dumpling filled with pork and jambu. Ever the showbiz kid, there's some table-side propane flambée action, which ultimately fails to impress because the dumpling is too doughy, and the flambée embitters the whole thing. Danial, who I was rooting for because finally someone was bringing us the sambal fire, disappoints: his grilled shrimp are one-dimensional, and the sambal, alas, too sweet. 

Ganesh barely survives with his offering of lamb with saffron rice, and so, sadly, it's Inch and Danial who have to go. It's all tearful goodbyes and follow your dreams, but I'm happy Danial gets to spend more time with his newborn baby and bitch about the show with his mother (no doubt: "yah lah they're like that one, cannot take spice one"), and Inch gets to return to doing anything she sets her mind to. 

Closing musings

All in all: not a great episode, shall we start a ranking system? I give it 2.80 out of 5 bowls of white rice.

The transparently manufactured drama, the bizarre appearance of Uncle Roger, the confusing and unhelpful challenge mechanics, and the boring mystery box ingredients made for a bit of a sludgy episode that was desperate to titillate. Ultimately I feel it didn't get where it needed to go because the challenge in this episode was so muddy. Ostensibly, a mystery box challenge is about creativity and quick thinking, but it ended up being mostly about getting food out as quickly as possible, which... why? Creativity is a lot more interesting than panic.

To be fair, creativity is as creativity does. This was a chance for the contestants to display who they are as cooks and maybe the truth is... compared to last season, this batch is all a little bit samey? With some notable exceptions, you have a bunch of people with cheffy aspirations who clearly spend a lot of time on the culinary Internet. They turn out capable but generic looking pseudo-restaurant food with a mostly "Western with touches of the global pantry" veneer. Whereas the last season had a much more diverse assortment of tastes and culinary approaches, and passionate defenders of modern Singapore culinary sensibilities, this season we seem to have gotten PS Cafe out the wazoo.

This is why I'm now fully rooting for Vasun whose cooking seems innovative but firmly anchored in regional food culture, and is paired with an eye for presentation. I hope she goes very, very far.

Maybe it's because of the way, in Season 1, cooks with a strong heritage-cooking sensibility or who were deemed "too homey" were unceremoniously booted off the show fairly quickly. If you saw that, and you were that sort of cook, would you audition? I wouldn't.

A Mini Essay 

I feel like there are some genuine philosophical questions at the heart of the show, and they're worth repeating: what is a MasterChef Singapore worthy dish? What does it look like? They're never clear about what "elevation" means, and I don't think they're critical enough about it. Why can't you serve white rice on Masterchef Singapore? If a white cook paired some mediocre curry with white rice on Masterchef UK, what feedback would they get for that? Would someone say to them: don't serve white rice on Masterchef?

Is the argument, simply, that cooks on Masterchef Singapore must reach beyond the familiar and everyday? And is that what "elevation" means in this context? I wonder if there isn't a kind of class snobbery at work here.

Because the "everyday" and the "elevated" don't necessarily exist in a stable relationship. Does anyone here watch that fabulous YouTube series: Pasta Grannies? Nowadays, trendy young cooks put such a premium on making home-made pasta in their home kitchens, and wear it as a mark of sophistication, but these Italian Ah Mas just go about it like it's the most fucking banal thing in the world. There's nothing "elevated" about their 100% from scratch pasta dishes, and yet, as evinced by Season 1, "making your own pasta" is precisely the sort of thing they like to see on Masterchef Singapore. And why is that? I mean look at how S1 series champion Zander basically did NOTHING but serve up pasta all season, and got away with it because he has Italian ancestry. But god forbid Ganesh serves white rice to Damian. If he'd coloured it blue with bungah telang, would that have "elevated" the rice? I'm pretty sure it would.

If you think I'm overreacting, it's worth pointing out that globally, Masterchef is the franchise that gave us the "crispy rendang" controversy, so we're firmly in philosophical territory about the cultural meanings of food here. I think the things this show has to say about food in the Singapore context have real implications. I mean, we're living through a moment where controversies about $30 "Peranakan nasi lemak" are a flash-point for race relations, and where our UNESCO-heritage hawkers are still expected to charge $3 for a plate of food. We're also living through a moment where some snobby Peranakan Masterchef wannabe basically mocked economy rice and rice with kecap manis in order to make some point about how Peranakan cooks elevate homey Chinese and Malay cuisine.

To my mind, Masterchef Singapore is really only interested in one aspect of our food culture: the bougie, aspirational bit, that fascinating overlap between the interests of the Singapore Tourism Board and the Michelin Guide. In this world, which Masterchef Singapore occupies to a tee, working class or domestic food culture are only interesting insofar as they inform (or can be appropriated by) the world of the $450 Ann Siang Hill degustation menu.

My guess is that what distinguishes a home cook from a restaurant chef is how much people are willing to pay for the spiel. The spiel being how a $2 meal is transformed by culinary wizardy into an artful trompe l'oeil or a series of "taste sensations". I will not easily forget going for drinks at Native, one of any number of trendy Amoy Street watering holes serving up a queasily precious brand of spiel-driven experiences, and being lectured at by the bartenders on my "kopi and toast" cocktail, treated like a tourist in my own country.

I guess what people mean by "elevation" is how good the spiel is, and what it communicates to you about luxury. Yes: a lot of craft and skill goes into these translations, and maybe the kind of skill and imagination that goes into serving white rice on the show is simply not good enough. That said, one of my most distinct restaurant memories is of Punjab Grill at the MBS, where a pyramid of rice collapsed like a cloud of steam under my fork, and I've never since eaten rice of such delicacy and simplicity. And to round back on Uncle Fucking Roger: some people really don't know how to cook rice.

What I'm saying in the end is that, like all aesthetic forms, cooking is not immune from a certain kind of criticality. And with food in particular, it's often disturbing and heartbreaking to witness how narratives about worthiness (how good the spiel is) overlap with narratives about power, proximity to whiteness, and wealth. 

Anyway what do I know? I just write stupid shit like this for a living.