Paper Palate

I am not this magazine’s target audience.

I figured as much when I picked it up, but I decided to look at it anyway, because Rachael Ray is such a hot media personality that I cannot go anywhere without seeing her blindingly perky smile beaming at me from displays of cookbooks, cutlery or random television screens. (I even heard that her domination of the Food TV lineup isn’t enough–she is going to be starring in her own daytime television talk show. This makes me more grateful than ever that I never watch television.)

Now, thanks to her new partnership with Reader’s Digest Association, even the magazine stand isn’t safe. The bimonthly, “Everyday with Rachael Ray” premiered in November, and includes recipes (with ugly photographs), a “burger of the month” feature, restaurant write-ups and a glossary of “Rachaelisms” such as the infamous “EVOO” and “Yum-O.”

The cover of the premier issue admonishes the reader to “Relax!” and have “stress-free holidays,” but I found my blood pressure rising along with my gorge as I turned the pages, to behold some really unattractive food photography.

My daughter peered over my shoulder and winced with each flip of a page. Finally she blurted out, “All of her food looks like chopped up, dry uncooked-looking crap on top of squishy-looking crap! And what the heck is that?” Her finger jabbed at the photograph of the “Cheddar-Crusted Chicken with Smooshy Applesauce.”

It was my turn to wince as I read the recipe title to the kid. She sneered. “Who wants to eat something that looks like cat yak on top of greasy fried chicken?”

I am ashamed to say it, but I couldn’t help but nod and agree. I don’t know if the fault is in Ray’s cooking ability, recipe construction or her food-stylists and photographers, but I couldn’t find a single recipe in the premier issue that I wanted to try out myself. Every photograph just looked icky, (with the exception of the BLT’s with Avocado and Spicy Mayo–but then, why would I need a recipe for that?) and did not fill me with the desire to try and recreate them. If anything, they made me shudder, and I had to fight the urge to put the magazine down and back away.

Aside from the unappetizing food photos, the magazine itself was very shallow when it came to content. There was nothing offensive about any of the very sparsely worded articles or sound-byte features- some of them, such as the little paragraph on keeping notes when tasting new cheeses, are useful, if overly short. Others, such as the two-page spread featuring what Whoopi Goldberg keeps in her fridge were just goofy. (I mean, I love Whoopi and all, but I don’t care about her refrigerator or what is in it.)

What I found most interesting about the content of the magazine was the way in which the editors of the magazine created connections between Ray and her fans. This was accomplished by including the fans in the production of the publication; they presented a little girl as “the youngest recipe tester,” and had readers write in with some of thier most embarrassing kitchen failures. These often funny goofs were printed next to Ray’s kitchen confessions. This inclusive editorial policy is a facile method of making the readers feel like insiders, and it helps further Ray’s image as a normal person, not a celebrity, who is just like the people who read her books, watch her shows and now, read her magazine. It keeps her approachable, like a friend who just happens to be on television.

In Ray’s defense, this approachable image may not be the cultivated creation of publicists and canny editors. I have heard from folks who have gone to see her at book signings, and she is apparently very charming and caring with her fans and spends a bit of time with each one of them. Not all authors are so gracious.

Since it was a holiday issue, there were two gift listings, one from “real cooks,” who are presumably fans, and one from Rachael herself. The “real cooks” had some great ideas: fresh bay leaves, mimolette cheese, Julia Child’s “The French Chef” DVDs and the Capresso Coffee TEC coffee maker all stood out as goodies I wouldn’t refuse.

Rachael’s list was heavy on prepared foods like cheesecake from the Nuns of New Skete, and the droll, but ugly Elvis Chocolate Mounds filled with banana, marshmallow and peanut butter from the Chocolate Barn. I wasn’t surprised to see her suggesting her newest book as a perfect gift, but what caused me to nearly swoon in an fit of disbelief was that she suggested folks buy one of those tacky stainless steel chocolate fountains that seem to have sprung up all over the place like some sort of fungus. (I cannot abide those things. Liquid chocolate drooling out of a fountain in a miniature Willy Wonka wet-dream does not thrill me. Maybe it is all the cat hair and dust floating around in my house, but really–use a fondue pot for melted chocolate, and give up on the mud-flow look.)

I would have honestly rather she had suggested her “Got EVOO?” or “YUM-O” t-shirts instead of that chocolate fountain, because at least they serve a purpose: they are an article of clothing and a guerrilla marketing tool, all in one. Chocolate fountains serve no purpose at all.

As it was, that fountain was the last straw. I could read no further. I did not feel a part of the Rachael Ray inclusive editorial policy; I had confirmed my suspicion that the magazine wouldn’t be to my taste, and it was time for me to move along.

While I do go out of my way to avoid Ray’s television show because her arm-waving antics, questionable recipes and breathless repetition of the phrase, “EVOO-that’s extra virgin olive oil” annoy me, I don’t actually hate the woman, unlike many others. I cannot actually bring myself to even dislike her, because she does something valuable–she gets non-cooks to cook, often starting with real ingredients, not pre-packaged convenience foods (unlike that semi-homemade person who’s probably on Con-Agra and Kraft’s payroll). I suspect Ray’s silliness and lack of deftness in the kitchen makes new cooks feel less awkward and helps boost the confidence of those who pick up a chef’s knife or a saute pan for the first time.

That is the audience for this magazine–people who want to learn how to cook, and have a good time doing it. They may not want to think about food in depth, but they might need a few tips on tasting different cheeses, and some ideas about what beer would go best with Thanksgiving turkey. (Both of these topics were covered in the first issue.)

Rachael Ray’s fans just want a magazine that entertains them a little, gives them some recipes they can do at home, and gives them information that they can use in as unpretentious way as possible.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with that.

And when I look at “Everyday with Rachael Ray” in that light, I see that the magazine is completely and totally successful.

It just isn’t for me.

Rating: 6

Pro: Gives some good information for non-cooks; the use of Rachael Ray fans in features is a great marketing tool.

Con: The food photography is atrocious and does a poor job “selling” the recipes; the magazine seems to reach only to existing Rachael Ray fans.