Main Dish Antenna

The concept blends whimsical fantasy with reality, but the end result is annoyance. I spent much of the show studying the faux wall painting behind Torres' stove wondering how it was done.

2 p.m., Baking With Julia--Did you know that in 1942 Julia Child began working for the Office of Strategic Services, the predecessor of the CIA? Learning that, I had this fantasy of the youthful Julia, clad, Emma Peel-like, in black leather, being sent on secret spy missions: "Agent Child. We need a chocolate Bundt birthday cake with a slow-acting poison. . . ."

Her actual work involved looking up people's names on file cards. Who would have imagined that this clerk would eventually publish Mastering the Art of French Cooking in 1961, a work that has sold more than two million copies?

When she began to appear on television in The French Chef, Child was an immediate hit. People began to tape the shows in order to cook along with her in the kitchen. Conveniently, appliance companies began to produce small kitchen-size televisions. Part of Child's charm came from her ability to make complicated recipes readily understandable, and her physical humor provided the laughs. She would furiously pound a piece of meat with a hammer while making droll comments.

Her newest series focuses on baking and features a guest chef each week who proceeds to actually make something while Julia watches. She occasionally asks a question to clarify a procedure, but spends much of the time muttering, "That's lovely," or "That's very clever," in her patented crackling contralto. She might grab a spoon, but the focus here is on the guests, who are always likable and very professional. Some are famous (Martha Stewart), but most are not household names. Watching these people at work, you begin to get a feeling for the physicality of being a baker, the appealing hands-on quality of pounding dough all morning long and the pleasant rewards of opening a hot oven later to see the surprising results of your work. This show makes me want to bake.

Ever wondered why these cooking shows are broadcast on Saturday? Why not Sunday? Or Wednesday evening? My take on it is that Saturday is the day we set aside to take care of chores. Of course, we'd rather be sitting on the couch contemplating whether to watch Pinky and the Brain or take another nap, but our Puritan heritage discourages us from wasting an entire day doing nothing. We would feel guilty if we didn't try, at least, to do something small to better our lives. Now, here's the beautiful part: Watching a cooking show isn't wasting time. No, it's a chance to improve our lot in life. ("I'd like to mow the yard, honey, but Justin Wilson's teaching me how to cook rabbit andouille gumbo. Oooooh!"). That's my Saturday. Educational (sort of). Fun. And guilt-free. Thank you,