The new Carême series is (choose one):
a. A biography of the brilliant NBA center, beginning with his national championships at UCLA and Power Memorial High School.
b. The story of how a supergroup created the iconic metal anthem “The Sunshine of Your Love”
c. Some French bullshit about cooking.
The correct answer is, as I’m sure you’ve guessed, “c.” Antonin Carême was a leading French chef who came from a poor family, but eventually became known as “the king of chefs and the chef of kings.” He is considered the father of haute cuisine, blazing the trail for Escoffier and others. At the peak of his popularity, he prepared meals for such luminaries as Napoleon and the Rothschilds.
You might think, “Who would care enough about that to watch an entire series devoted to it.”
I watched a lot of it.
Even though I don’t care about it at all.
I swear, I got hooked on the damned thing, even though I have zero interest in the subject matter. Yes, they have ridiculous arguments about trivialities like whether to garnish veal with seasonal vegetables, but the show runners managed to make the show juicy with plots, intrigues, jealousy, competitions, interesting characters, and the triumph of a man’s immense talent and dedication over the accident of his ignoble birth.
What can I tell you? The French love stories about great food. You might even say they really eat this stuff up.
But you shouldn’t actually say that.
Unfortunately, this Apple TV show has too many chicken breasts and too few human breasts. There are three more episodes still to air, but I have no hope at all, based on advance reviews.
Your ass is nasty.
Weirdly, I’m enjoying Careme too! Even though I can’t believe that he was a spy, it’s still strabngely compelling stuff. And no, there aren’t enough titties! The women are all very coy – not at all French.