The hometown paper seems embarrassingly enamored with the idea of a Food Network star as de facto first lady in Albany. Which is probably just as well, because apparently you don’t mess with the Kwanzaa Kake Kreator. Safer to fawn than to mock when even snarky criticism tends to get disappeared. Nice blogs you got your high-paid staff cranking out. Be a shame if anything happened to them.
That said, picking on food teevee stars is like kicking a dog for crapping on the sidewalk. You can’t blame the animal for doing what its handler encourages. But I have to say, having watched only one too-long clip, that the newest entry in the dumbing-down of the American kitchen makes me think the Mayans might be right about end times. This really is crude fud porn, right down to the inflatable-doll O mouth. “An omelet and a pizza falling in love and having a baby” is a longwinded way of saying fucking was involved, and would you want to eat it? But the “Mexican fiesta in my face” just made me think of carrot bukkake. . . At least no Eggbeater label was visible.