"After tonight's finale, I'm officially breaking up with MasterChef."

Dear MasterChef – we need to talk.

Please consider this the official notice of the termination of our friendship. I know, I’m sorry, and it’s going to be a hard break-up for both of us.

But I just can’t continue to devote hours of my life for months on end when you’re giving me nothing in return. I need closure. And these sob stories are keeping me awake at night.


I know what you’re thinking – closure is coming! We’re down to the final two (Matt and Elena, for those of you who are also stuck in this completely one-sided, reality TV relationship) and the winner is going to be announced in the grand finale.

I know you think it seems like a cop out to ‘quit you’ when you’re going to disappear from our screens (for now), anyway. But this is part of the problem. I feel like I’ve been watching your eighth season for years. You’ve broken me.


Coming home every night from work, plodding myself down on my couch at 7:30pm four nights a week for months on end is too much to commit to. And I know all about commitment – I’m married.

But that’s a relationship that gives me lots in return. You? You just take so much from me and give hardly anything in return.

What have you taught me? You’ve taught me to hate all things parfait. Seriously, guys, there’s only so many parfaits that can be made every season. WHAT EVEN IS A PARFAIT? It looks like ice cream when you make it, but Google images tells me it’s more like a trifle.

One of you is lying.


The Binge girls talk about their love/hate relationship with MasterChef. Post continues…

You’ve also caused me shudder every time I see a domed-shape dessert. 2016 – the year of the dome. I also have a strong hatred of all things that are sous vide (honestly, it looks gross), smoked or flash-frozen in a blast chiller.

I’ve sat and watched with a glass (Okay, okay, two glasses. Maybe three.) of wine, waiting to watch the MasterChef champion of 2016 be crowned. But that moment never came.

Instead, you brought back contestants who had already been eliminated. There were endless celebrity chef appearances (and not nearly enough Shannon Bennett in every episode). There was a trip overseas.

And George kept pronouncing elements as “ally-ments” and I just decided enough was enough.


Perhaps the thing that I dislike the most about you is – and I’m borrowing some wise words from my good friend Kat Stratford of 10 Things I Hate About You – is that I don’t hate you at all, “not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.”


You’ve sucked me in. I can’t stop watching. These people and their “food journeys” are starting to feel like friends. But I know that is extremely unhealthy, so I swear, once Matt is crowned the champion (and he better be crowned the champion) that’s it.

No more. I’m emotionally exhausted.