If you’ve followed Jamie Oliver, a.k.a. The Naked Chef, over the years, you know the unpretentious kitchen magician enjoys people and food. He’s made a career of introducing down-to-earth people to good (not fussy) cooking.
His first crusade against junk food and bad eating habits occurred in Yorkshire, England, where “Jamie’s Ministry of Food” managed to change school menus. He shocked hardened working stiffs who had never picked up a pan, teaching them to prepare and understand the value of a healthful dinner.
He became a political force in England, retraining humans how to eat. He’s now invading the colonies with the same philosophy.
While so many TV chefs battle over exotic ingredients and recipes (Cumin Seed Gougères With Sweet Mustard from “Iron Chef,” anyone?), Oliver finds ways to make chicken and salad interesting.
And while the chef competition programs are all about food snobbery and name-dropping, Oliver sticks to his belief that anyone can learn to cook in 24 hours. Habits can be changed, and a generation can be weaned from pop and dinner that comes in Styrofoam.
He’s fighting obesity, one school lunch menu at a time.
Of course the “reality-TV” manipulations are obvious. The players are chosen to highlight the challenges ahead. The editing emphasizes high emotions. But the program is ultimately winning.
Tonight, “Jamie Oliver’s Food Revolution” serves up its first regular episode on ABC (it had a preview run Sunday), followed by a second hour. The two hours will air at 7 p.m. on KMGH-Channel 7.
This six-episode reality gig, in the altruistic vein of “The Biggest Loser” and “Extreme Makeover: Home Edition” self-improvement shows, is actually a much more radical effort.
Beyond encouraging a few individuals or creating a “miracle” for a family in need, and serving as an example for viewers, this series directly takes on Big Agriculture and the corporate manufacturers of what passes for food, along with the U.S. Department of Agriculture. The premise is radical at its core, nicely masked in a dramatic tale.
Subtle he’s not, when vilifying “processed crap” like strawberry-flavored milk or burying a family’s deep-fat fryer in the backyard.
The omnivore’s next dilemma: Take one clever Briton, drop him in Huntington, W.Va., and watch him try to change ingrained attitudes. His accent is just the first hurdle for the coal miners’ sons and daughters who are accustomed to a diet high in fat and starch.
The town, picked because it ranked dead last in a government health study, is populated by obese kids and their parents, supping their way to early graves. They’ve never met a processed or deep-fried food they didn’t like.
The culture clash is illustrated in Jamie’s initial run-in with a tough local radio disc jockey, Rod Willis.
“We don’t want to sit around and eat lettuce all day,” Willis says, on behalf of his community. He is offended at the thought of Oliver showing up and demanding change. Unspoken is the fear that this foreigner is making fun of the town.
“I’m not going to cook you a lettuce,” Oliver promises.
At the local school cafeteria, the lunch lady (who prefers the term “cook”) is set up as another colorful nemesis.
Oliver confides that he’s seen better food served in South African townships. He’s not just hoping to introduce lettuce. “I’m talkin’ about causin’ a big fuss!” he says, starting with challenging the USDA requirements, which encourage the school to serve pizza for breakfast, chicken nuggets for lunch and two starches at every meal.
In future installments, Jamie will enlist students at Marshall University to his cause and hold a cook-athon.
A food revolution in six episodes? He’ll be a hero.
Joanne Ostrow: 303-954-1830 or jostrow@denverpost.com
