I must admit that I finished watching the last episode with a heavy heart. My stomach was turning throughout the whole show and even more so during the elimination ceremony. After my audition, I felt like people had expectations of me but after yesterday’s episode there was the sound of “Wah Wah Wah” in the background, or of a rocket falling to the ground and exploding (if you can imagine that sound in your head). Is it possible that from here on in, I’m just going to disappoint them? This program is really challenging and it brings out things in me that I never imagined. I served the curry dish with confidence in its taste. The curry itself was delicious, the coriander yoghurt was a little spicy with a lot of lime and, in my opinion, it complimented it perfectly. I served it on a cold crispy cucumber salad and everything genuinely worked for me. I made the mistake of choosing to reheat the chicken just before plating so that it would be hot when it reached the judges, which probably took the juiciness out of it. But the flavours of the dish were excellent. That’s why, when Moshik said he didn’t understand the connection between the coriander yoghurt and butter curry sauce, it caught me off guard. For me, a chilled yoghurt alongside a fiery, flavourful curry was the perfect combination. Even now, I still believe that. There is no doubt that I hadn’t yet fully understood the concept of the programme and you can see my lack of proficiency with my “rookie mistakes”. On the other hand, some of the other contestants had watched a marathon of every previous season before they arrived and trained on dishes endlessly in the restaurants where they work. I don’t know if it’s because I came with the attitude of “What will be will be”, but it was important to me to be authentic, and for my reactions to be real, and I couldn’t see it in any other way. If it worked, it worked, and if it didn’t, then it didn’t. In short, it was no fun watching this cringy episode whilst also knowing that this show might bring many more ups and downs. Don’t worry, I don’t doubt myself. It’s just that I wasn’t portrayed the way I wanted, and although none of the chefs said anything insulting or bad, it affects me.
The mandoline challenge caught me off guard. It was obvious we were going to have to do some gruesome challenges but for some reason I expected some technical challenges such as knife skills or ingredient guessing of some sort. Instead it was the complete opposite of ‘knife skills’, this time we had no knives at all!!! Not asking “What chef skills can you actually see here?” was such an insane concept that I had to keep reminding myself that I had no knives to cut into things. The amount of time I wasted grabbing a lemon, for example, and only realising when I got to my station that I had no way of cutting into it, or struggling for ages to peel an onion, was ridiculous. Those valuable minutes wasted make a tremendous difference when you get a challenge of 45 minutes by the end of which you need to present a dish AND you have no idea what ingredients you can find in the pantry, or where to find them. Turns out, I also completely misunderstood the challenge. I thought the whole challenge was to create a potato dish. The actual challenge was to do a mandoline dish, using potatoes. So it was the Mandoline that needed to shine, NOT the stupid potato. So obviously, when Asaf Granit comes to my station and asks me what I’m doing with the mandoline, and I answer “pickled onions”, I get a telling off. Whoopsy… Having said that, even though I absolutely hated not having knives, and repeating in my head how silly this challenge was or how they can’t learn anything about our skills as a chef through it etc etc, at least (Thank God) I didn’t get my companions’ challenges, using a rolling pin or a Parisienne scoop! What the hell?! I think I would’ve started grinding my own corn tortillas with the rolling pin! I probably would still have been doing it now… And with the Parisienne scoop? I can only think of a melon and lychee fruit salad…Oh dear! I would’ve gone down like a sack of potatoes…the “Dod Moshe” brand. During the ceremony at the end, I could not stop my knees from shaking. I felt cold, and no amount of deep breaths would’ve calmed me down. Luckily, I was 4th to be called and so the panic was over fast. But standing on stage and seeing all these wonderful chefs in front of me waiting for their names to be called, I had no clue how I made it and they didn’t. Great people like Rafael Angel who made an off-the-bone burnt fish and confit potatoes, or Maya Davidoff who made the torn pasta with Fakus (that Zucchini that looks like a cucumber), or Itay Eyal who has a similar CV to mine and worked in some of the best restaurants in the States. The more the names that got called and none of them chosen, made me more and more humble, needing to appreciate the fact that I did get chosen. It meant that I really needed to prove the judges right. I cannot waste my spot, and give up easily.
The day of the audition was approaching and I was having an anxiety attack. We only get notified of our episode 24 hours before the broadcast and none of the things I remembered from that day were occupying a positive place in my memory. I remembered how I was so cold on set that I was shivering. I remember how my timing was actually good, but at the last moment I was under so much pressure that my hands were shaking and that nothing was standing on the plate properly. I remember how much I didn’t want to talk to myself in that “Stress Tunnel” because who talks to themselves in front of the whole world?! I remember that Chef Yossi Shitrit offered me a job the second I opened my mouth and I just thought “Are you saying you gave me a knife?!” And as you must have seen, I also remember how I was on the verge of tears all day and I just needed that little push to make the tears burst out without stopping. I’m Lior, a member of the Shva family, and this is how we deal with most situations in our lives – not by crying or falling apart, not by sobbing, but yes with tears in our eyes. Sometimes there is a tremor in our voice and we still try to maintain composure – and as we’ve all seen, without success. Myself, the family and some friends gathered spontaneously in the living room of my parents’ house in Binyamina to watch the episode. As time goes by, watching the auditions ahead of me, my heart rate does not stop rising, but I also begin to doubt whether I am really on tonight. I can’t believe that they might have put me at the end. What got cut in the edit anyway? You would have heard that I started my career under an amazing Israeli chef, and a mentor to this day, named Amos Sion from “Helena in the Port”. I said that I returned to work after maternity leave to a “part-time” job of 50 hours a week, although this was over 3 consecutive days. However, within 3 weeks there were no longer enough chefs in the kitchen and I had to return to the same 58-hour a week over 4 consecutive days like everyone else – from Wednesday to Saturday. I mean, I would say goodbye to Itai during the early morning feeding on Wednesday, and only see him again on Sunday morning!. When I said I was alone in England with a baby, I did also mention that I had one “life saver” girlfriend who lived 4 houses away from me, and we spent time at each other’s houses day and night. Her name is Noa and I would not have survived this immense loneliness without her. The crazy amount of messages that arrived at the end of the episode is unimaginable. People I guided on culinary tours in London, parents of friends from elementary school, people I know who never watch TV and certainly not reality shows, guys from the army, friends of my sisters, mothers, fathers…the list goes on. And every time I read one of these messages, I get emotional again because this is what I’m best at (and probably also know how to cook a little). I’m happy to discover that people sympathise and everything about the broadcast that I was so afraid of until now is dwarfed by the small amount of good I did for people in their hearts.
I will start by telling you what to expect, a little introduction to me and what my motivations were for joining the show. For me, the blog will be the place to vent my thoughts, insights and frustrations that arose from the programme. The shooting days last for hours and hours, during which contestants go through a whirlwind of challenges, experiences and feelings. Of course, the majority of it will not make it through the edit and will never be seen because it is not “TV worthy” enough or for other reasons. That’s why I thought I’d tell you a little about my personal experience. View fullsize You won’t find any “dirt” here on other contestants or on any of the judges. I’m not that type and I did not come to create provocations. I just want you to get a little more idea of what this experience entails. You may read my choice of words that are not commonly used on television. After all, I come from the restaurant industry – a place with a short temper, a lot of stress, no personal space (and testosterone too). So who am I? And what for God’s sake led me to sign up for a prime time reality show? I won’t bore you with my resume – which you can understand from the program itself and also from the “About” page on my website. I’ll just tell you that television is really not in my nature, that I probably am not camera material (I don’t know?! We’ll probably see soon) and that showbiz really scares me. “Mmmm, lady, so what were you thinking!?” I can hear you wonder through the screen… Many years ago, Guy (my husband) asked me, if theoretically I was to participate in a television program, what program would I want it to be? I answered “Game of Chefs” without hesitation and I had a million reasons why: It’s the most professional TV cooking competition on Israeli TV, the dishes are tasted in a blind test and the backstory of all the contestants really isn’t the most important part. This means your success or failure on the show does not depend on how sad or exciting your story is (unlike other cooking shows). A good friend tagged me in some Facebook post which led to a phone call from one of the producers. I was the exact typecast they are looking for: someone who has been in the industry for years, with a respectable repertoire, but no one in the country has heard of her! As for me, even though I was very flattered by the interest, I just answered her questions and already predicted how none of this is relevant at all because I live in England and there is no way that I will just fly to Israel for a few months all of a sudden. Some time passed and I thought they forgot about me, but in the meantime Guy and I (and our 1 year old son Itai) were planning on moving to Israel. We always thought that such a day would come, but Covid-19, the birth of our baby and the intense combination of work/family life intensified my need to live close to my family and stop whatever I was doing to recalculate a route. A few months later, they called me again, kept insisting and pressing and…I got cold feet. I decided it wasn’t for me. But these producers knew what they were doing and knew exactly the right words to say and how to bring out the big guns when it was needed. They reassured me I can choose to leave at any given stage. A few positive points did cross my mind. Firstly is that I was moving to Israel anyway and secondly, I was experiencing some kind of mid-career crisis anyway – not knowing how I would like to continue cooking when I “grow up”. Another thought was “Get out of your comfort zone already! Why the hell do you care?” All the biggest boo-boo’s I can do in front of the whole world on national TV will be forgotten in a second and a half anyway (hopefully). Oh, and needless to say, all this time I have voices in the background (especially Guy at home) reminding me that I always said that this was the only show I would participate in, that I was more than capable, and that people who already loved me will not stop loving me just because I made of fool of myself on TV once. So there’s nothing to lose – I can only gain. Long story short, I decided to go for it and when I do something, I don’t do it half-heartedly. There are quite a few people who would do anything just to participate in such a programme and I shouldn’t take their place if I don’t really plan to give it my all. Stay tuned!
