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Food

A Masterchef Winner Was Crowned Tuesday Night and I Can Tell You Who it Wasn’t: Integrity

When Matt Preston eats the food, is it still warm? Is it even the same food?

So Tuesday night was the Masterchef finale in which—as the general population of people with a television and a penchant for suspense had suspected—Elena Duggan beat Matt Sinclair and became the Ultimate Master of Cheffing in The World of Reality TV for This Particular Year.

After what was yet another season of nail-biting, degrading, and unnecessarily stressful challenges that captivated (some of) a nation, Elena made a very complex egg situation that I still do not understand, and it made her officially better than Matt in at least one way (and possibly others).

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Yes, it was riveting. Yes, it held the attention of more than 1.6 million human beings. But you know what? I can't do this anymore. I can't watch this show and pretend that it's not just a huge, Chemtrails-sized conspiracy.

Because shooting a TV show doesn't take the same amount of time as watching it, and I don't believe that food is still hot by the time it gets to Matt Preston. In fact I doubt it's even warm, which makes me doubt that when I'm watching George, Matty, and The Other One it's the first time they've tasted it.

I have to know the truth.

After some digging (Tinder) I find an Anonymous Source who once worked in the Art Department of Masterchef. We meet behind Shed F at The Docks at five past midnight. Just kidding I call them on the phone.

"The food just sits there," they tell me. "For at least an hour after they've made it. Just like, in the open air. Except if it's a dessert, then they put it in a freezer so it doesn't melt."

I already knew this in my hearts of hearts, but all I can think about are the chances of the judges having Salmonella or something.

I tweet at Matt Preston AKA @MattsCravat in hope of finding some clarity about this situation—both the food temperature and the Salmonella—but all I get is radio silence. Deafening radio silence.

My Anonymous Source says that the judges walk around, tasting bits of the contestants' dishes, immediately after calling Time's Up. Then, later, they pretend to eat it again, all cold and gross, at the judging table.

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But it gets worse.

"Half the time they wouldn't even taste it," my Source tells me. "They taste the ones they think are going to win, or the ones they want to win. Which I always thought doesn't make any sense because they have to pretend to taste it later anyway."

Hold the frickin' phone. So they don't even taste all the dishes?!

"They don't taste them all when they're hot. But they taste them all when they're cold, for the cameras."

Listening back on the tape of this interview you can hear me saying "My God…" under my breath. The room goes quiet. The air is thick with the immensity of it all. What have I uncovered?

Next phone call: Julian Assange.

I'm fuming. I'm tempted to tweet @MattsCravat again but I'll refrain. What I won't do though is refrain from saying that we deserve better. Who decided that Australia can't handle watching the judges taste the food at the benches? When they're all messy and there's still sweat and fear in the air? Who said it has to be in a dimly-lit room, surrounded by wine bottles and oak?

We can take a bit of authenticity, Masterchef. We can take it.

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