Confessions of a sportswriter: ‘Top Chef’ made lockdown bearable

I have a file in Google Docs called “mom’s recipes.”

For the past … however long this coronavirus lockdown has lasted, Thursday has been the day I look forward to the most.

It’s then that I open that document and begin my foray into cooking dishes that I grew up eating, ones that until now had not attempted to make for myself, dishes my mother was nice enough to text me how to cook. Baked shrimp scampi. Chicken kapama. Beef burgundy.

If the pandemic has forced people to pick up new hobbies, then consider me Chef Emeril.

But there’s another reason why Thursdays have become a source of comfort, why I haven’t gone insane in a world where live sports have all but stopped: Thursday means the latest episode of “Top Chef,” Bravo’s reality kitchen competition show that has fueled my interest in cooking at home.

It can be trite to compare reality television to a live sporting event, but we love sports in part for the competitiveness and the personalities we grow to root for. “Top Chef” — its season finale airs Thursday, by the way — hits both of those notes to a satisfying degree.

As a journalist at The Washington Times, I don’t cheer for any of the teams or people I cover. That’s part of the gig.

But I don’t have to have that objectivity with “Top Chef,” which is why I was devastated when District-based chef Eric Adjepong was sent home far too soon and why I’m seriously considering paying $35 to take an online cooking class with finale contestant Melissa King this weekend.

Before, my weeks were crafted around the NFL. I’d drive to Redskins Park in Ashburn practically every day, write my stories, then hit the road for away games or head to Landover on Sundays.

These days, my schedule revolves around this cooking show.

Starting Monday or Tuesday, I brainstorm what I want to cook, looking over “mom’s recipes” or calling my family to get other ideas to add to the doc.

In this span, I’ve learned that no question is too dumb for the nice Wegmans employees having to deal with my lack of food knowledge. Tuesday’s Pulitzer-winning question at the store involved asking if a half-cut sirloin was a different cut than a sirloin steak, or literally just half the normal steak. Turns out, it’s the latter. Obviously.

When I’m cooking, I find myself as involved — or for a better word, worried — as I am when I’m writing. Is this turning out the way I want it? Should I be doing this differently? Is this good?

But there’s something rewarding about tasting your own dish, just as it is seeing your own name in print.

Before the coronavirus pandemic, I was a terrible cook. If I did choose to eat at home — which was rare — I’d tend to do something simple, and even then, it’d be overcooked or underdone. Sometimes, impressively, it was both.

Now, I’m measuring out teaspoons and tablespoons, setting timers and following instructions to a T.

And in an embarrassing admission, I even take pictures of the end product — trying to find the perfect angle that shows off the plate as if it’s some sort of Michelin-worthy dish. It turns out, the meals don’t taste so bad anymore either.

By the time dinner is done — and sometimes dessert is made — I’ll settle in to watch “Top Chef.”

I’m not alone. My mom and sister, back home in Chicago, tune in and my family has a text chain as the episode unfolds.

I also know I’m not the only sportswriter obsessed with the show. ESPN’s Kevin Arnovitz and NBC’s Tom Haberstroh host a “Top Chef” podcast called “Pack Your Knives,” named after the catch phrase that host Padma Lakshmi uses to eliminate a contestant at the end of an episode.

The Athletic, including my Redskins colleague Ben Standig, has its own fantasy league for the show based on a scoring system from Arnovitz and Haberstroh. (Yes, there’s Fantasy Top Chef, just as there is fantasy football).

Still for an hour every week, “Top Chef” provides the thrills and the excitement I’ve badly missed from sports since the pandemic began. And truthfully, it’s always entertaining.

This is Season 17 of the show, and I’ve seen all but the first three.

Part of the appeal was that I didn’t have to know what a Crudo or a puree was before tuning in, but I could tell the chefs, like athletes, were performing at the highest level.

I’m going to miss it.

Matthew Paras covers the Redskins (and “Top Chef”) for The Washington Times.