Ben Milbourne's chance at winning MasterChef came to an end on Monday night when he was eliminated just two challenges out of the grand. MasterChef Australia runner-up Ben Borsht reveals he and wife Caitlyn the year-old revealed that the couple are planning to start a family. Wednesday's episode of MasterChef Australia was a rather spicy one, for two Two of the show's hottest former contestants, Ben and Andy.
Those team challenges, and how you get through them, and the skills you gain are invaluable too.
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I was never lonely, but I did miss the people on the outside. You just miss the people who would normally be popping in and out of your life every day. My sister just had a little baby boy when I went on the show, there was lots happening in the outside world.
We spent every single day with them and all your normal support structures are gone, so you rely on the people in that house, and that top Some people did struggle, but we were very lucky we had each other. We became best friends in the house which was an advantage for both of us straight away.
We were outed as having a bromance pretty early on!
Then it was all over social media. That education and grounding you get from being on there for a year is priceless. Everything I do in my daily life is thanks to that, and it even has a credit to play in my wife and daughter. That led to us getting married once I left the show, and now we have a little girl. I think my inexperience helped me in a lot of ways. Not having a great cooking game, I was so prepared to learn and take on any information anyone was giving me.
Again, it seems to work — Andy is plating up, but Julia once more falls prey to her obsession with letting meat rest. We all knew that sooner or later, her concern for the level of fatigue in food would catch up with her. Luckily for her, Andy has completely lost the ability to know what food looks like, and is frantically tossing foodstuffs at a plate, staring quizzically at it as if it's a magic eye puzzle.
Will these horrible dishes be enough? The amateurs hope so, but the loud piano music suggests heartache looms. Andy can't put his finger on it, but there's something not quite right with his dish — will he notice the pigeon faeces before it's too late? Also, are fisherman's baskets and lamb really that Australian?
Would they not have been better off cooking something truly patriotic, like a kangaroo or a brown snake or Dawn Fraser? As we wait for the verdict we are reminded of what's at stake — the chance to get unreasonably excited about dishwashing tablets on TV.
And now, the second moment of truth out of a total of three moments of truth: First up is Julia's "crusted rack of lamb", with "vegetables".
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The dish was inspired by Julia's memories of growing up on a property and weeding bushes and having trees and I suppose at some point or other she ate lamb and stuff. So that's a pretty great story. Gary is worried the lamb is undercooked. George is worried the fat hasn't been rendered. Matt is worried the others won't shut up and let him eat. Ironically, it turns out Julia hasn't let the lamb rest for long enough, which we can all have a good laugh about. It is also not an inventive dish, in that it's not a tiny medallion of raw pheasant next to a snail trail, like the judges prefer.
In comes Andy with his indefinably flawed fisherman's basket. He is behind on points, but he knows he can still win because he won a basketball game once. His dish is also inspired by his childhood, when he would go fishing, so he has at least defeated Julia in the Most Boring Inspiration contest. Gary, though, thinks the dish might have steroids in it. The eating begins, and Matt is mightily impressed with the oyster emulsion, playing along with this farcical charade, while George grunts enthusiastically.
The overall consensus is that Andy's dish is delicious and we should go to an ad break while pretending everyone doesn't already know Andy has crushed Julia like a cockroach in this round. And we're back, to hear Gary tell them that the grand finale is exhausting, so wasting more time on talking will really pep them up a lot.
He explains the criteria on which they judged the dishes, because clearly the show was moving at far too cracking a pace. Matt explains how they loved lots of things about Julia's dish, except obviously for how she cooked it. Andy, though, cooked his seafood perfectly, even though the dish looked like it had just fallen out of a barracuda's belly slit. Gary gives Julia a seven, and she reacts with an expression of relief that indicates she had no idea that "seven" means you pretty much suck.
Sevens all round in fact, and Julia admits she is happy with that because she deserved much less, thus insulting the judges' expertise to top it all off. Andy has kicked Julia's steely buttocks all around this kitchen with his perfect fish and oyster gunk.
He steps forward to give Gary a hug, the air thick with emotion and great howling sobs from Ben on the balcony. Time for round three, which Andy cannily guesses will be a dessert, rather than a cup of coffee or after-dinner mint as it might have been. Dessert, of course, is Julia's forte, her parents having both been blast freezers, and Andy's five point lead and stylish hair may not be enough even now.
In steps the guest chef to present the final challenge — Christine Mansfield, legendary dessert chef and stop-motion puppet. Christine lifts the cloche of death … And reveals … A candle with a blob of chocolate ice-cream on it. We're informed that this thing is actually a Gaytime, which is patently untrue, as it has neither a stick or a wrapper. Christine then explains how to make her Gaytime candle, a very complicated process compared to the traditional method of "go down to the shop with a couple of bucks".
Julia begins by making her honeycomb: While she is engaged in the ancient apiarist's art, Andy is busily describing the incredibly dull process of making something or other with eggs and milk and stuff. After that thing, he must make another thing, which has a pressure point apparently. Just one though, so it shouldn't be too hard. He puts his mousse in the fridge and returns to the bench to discover he's made the mousse completely wrong and has to start again.
Above, Ben falls to his knees and screams, "WHY? Julia is happy to be making a dessert and watching Andy have a nervous breakdown. Gary tells Andy he enjoys watching him sweat, while Christine offers each contestant a poisoned apple. Julia isn't entirely happy with her mousse!
There are lumps in it — her batteries have fallen out and into the bowl! Andy has his own problems though, as the recipe informs he must mix something into a "homogenous paste", and he must confront his greatest fear: He is not helped by Ben calling out "come on fancypants" and making things incredibly awkward.
There then follows a succession of shots of cylinders being rolled, which is not as exciting as it sounds.
Yes, her exoskeleton is beginning to lose its structural integrity under the studio lights. Andy's rolling adventures though are going remarkably well. Could the dessert queen be about to succumb to the Admiral of Handsome? Probably not, because Andy's caramel has split, man.
He has only three minutes to fix this problem, which is nowhere near enough time, so he decides to whip up a bolognese sauce and hope for the best. Meanwhile, Julia's thermostat has broken and everyone is yelling at her, thinking they're being encouraging but actually driving her into a bloodthirsty rage.
Anyway now time is up, and Julia and Andy breathe a sigh of relief, knowing they will never have to cook anything again as long as they live. For the next six hours we listen to Status Quo. When we return to the kitchen, now bedecked in cobwebs and the skeletons of the weaker crew members, Julia presents her dessert to the judges, admitting with refreshing modesty that her greatest weakness is her relentless perfectionism.
The judges quite like Julia's Gaytimes, even the deformed ones that are shaped like fish, and it taste OK as well, though not as good as Christine's original. As the amateurs rush to get their dessert on, the judges begin to eat the mains. Marco criticises Andy's big plate and small duck, which is a needlessly personal remark. Gary doesn't like Andy's mucky plate, but the duck is cooked superbly, and George explains how a well-cooked duck can make the sun shine in our hearts.
Amina is making rice pudding, which usually takes over two hours, demonstrating that she really hasn't thought this through.
The judges are eating her mains. She ran out of time to add the cherry tomatoes. She will pay for this. Gary wishes Amina's couscous had more flavour. George disapproves of using tomato from a bottle, even though it was from Coles, where there is no freshness like it.
It is time for the judges to taste Jules' fish, although only in Marco's case will this turn out to be an innuendo. The balcony, as obnoxious as ever, counts down the end of the dessert phase of the challenge, and Jules starts crying in accordance with the rules of the competition. First to be tasted will be Amina's rice pudding, which kind of looks like it has already been eaten at least once.
Gary loves it because it tastes great, but it's not quite cooked.
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The audience is left to make up its own mind as to what the hell he's babbling about. As Jules' dessert is brought in, Gary lets us know that he's salivating, possibly because of the food, or possibly because he just does that a lot. Gary is disappointed with Jules' cream, which is a shame, but someday she will find a man who will appreciate her cream for what it is.
Andy has made grilled figs, because why the hell not, I suppose. George thinks it's too simple. He said the more you do to food the more you wreck it! This competition is a farce! She'll bring some sanity back. Anyway now there's the fireball and we watch the Italian guy have sex with his pizza cheese in a state of deep depression, realising there is a 66 percent chance of Amina being eliminated and life ceasing to have any meaning whatsoever. And yet Andy and Jules are so attractive too — we don't want anyone to go home!
What mischievous demon conspired to allow Debra to escape tonight? This is a tragic time in our lives.
I wish Marco was here to cut my throat. Back in the kitchen, George speaks extremely slowly for a while, and then asks Marco for some more advice which is fairly futile given the challenge is over. As everyone in the room bursts into tears, even Julia, who affixed small water-spouts to her glasses frames before the show, Gary announces the result … Andy!
Andy did the best! Andy will go to Italy! Amina and Jules will go home! And so a country collapsed to its knees, weeping and rending its garments. The woman we loved, the woman who sustained us in our darkest hours and gave us hope that there might be a better future for us all, is gone, and nothing now can come to any good.
Without Amina, what will we do? How can we sit through more weeks of Alice's stupid glasses and dumb giggling, and Julia's remorseless ambition, and Deb's hot flushes, and Ben's freaking tacos, without Amina there? On the other hand, it's just a TV show, get over it everyone.
As Jules and Amina say goodbye, Jules reads a letter written to her by Julia's emotion simulator, and Amina and Audra embrace and sob, the producers apparently having led the contestants to believe that those who are eliminated are killed upon leaving the kitchen. Audra will be so relieved when she finds out Amina is still alive. Then George tells them they're going to Italy, and like magic, Amina and Jules don't matter anymore! Ah, fabulous overseas trips, you have the power to heal any wounds.
Cut to Jules' house, where she instructs everyone to celebrate, an inappropriate reaction to her devastating failure.