Nina's cheering squad. Source: MasterChef

Boston, Sunday, June 4, 2023

"Did I see you on MasterChef?"

I heard this from—I don't know—30 (?) people last week who caught a glimpse of me jumping up and down like my legs were two pogo sticks during the new season's debut episode.

It surprised me. Because I wasn't on the MasterChef as a contestant—I was there in the LA studio to support my friend Nina Interlandi Bell during her live audition. We were there in January; the new season aired on Fox and Hulu last week.

The spontaneous jump-cheer (in a leopard suitcoat! because branding!) happened when Nina emerged from having her dumplings judged.

(I realize that "having her dumplings judged" sounds like an innuendo lol. It's not. She actually made dumplings. Which were judged by a panel that included Gordon Ramsey himself.)

He loved them. And Nina emerged triumphant from the judge's backstage lair, holding the prize that gives you a spot on the show—a coveted Chef's apron! Rewatching it even now floods me with a crackling energy that makes my legs twitch—ready to pop off and pogo again!

You can see a clip of that moment here.

* * *

Nina's entire on-air audition was maybe 3-5 minutes. Maybe less?

But the entire actual audition—the cooking, the filming, the cheering, the walk-on, the walk-off, the let's-try-that-again-with-more-energy—was close to 2 hours for Nina alone.

Maybe more? IDK. I think I blacked out for parts of it. TV demands looooong days.

You committed for the whole day, riding from the hotel to the studio together on shuttle buses. We reported at 6:30 AM. In the studio, no electronics (because spoilers). No reading material (because eyes up, people!). No seats with backs even (seatbacks encourage you to loll and slouch). We rolled back to the hotel 14 hours later, at 8:30 PM.

In between, Nina and dozens of others cooked their faces off in hopes of winning an apron.

In between, me and 200 other supporters were a captive, Cheering-As-A-Service audience (CAAS?).

It was like being in the bleachers in the broiling sun for a 14-hour baseball game. Fun for a few hours—then at some point you just want to lie down.

In the debut episode, they showed only half of the dozen who actually auditioned. The handful who got aprons, like Nina. And a handful who did not.

* * *

Why, though, I wondered... watching the episode last week (and regretting my choice of light blue socks with black jeans). (Oof, Ann.)

Why did the show feature these chefs? Who made the prime-time cut? Who didn't?

How do the producers decide who's out and who gets to share their chef origin story on air?

And—importantly—why does it matter to us?

* * *

The best origin stories are all about... wait for it... the story. But more specifically: the truth the story reveals to us.

Nina's story is that she's an inventive chef from Maine... and a resourceful one. She talked about her love of wild food. And how using ingredients like dandelion greens and squirrel fat connects us to the outdoors and ourselves, even if we live in the middle of a city. Those dumplings were venison. (She just wrote a book about foraging.)

The cooks with the best stories told in the most compelling way got air time—whether they won an apron or not.

I'm going to separate this important point with dinkus bookends (a dinkus is that series of three asterisks—which is a fun thing for you to know).

* * *

Every story should reveal three truths. I call this the 3 Reveals (because I'm not great at titles).

THE 3 REVEALS

1. Reveal the writer to the reader: Help the reader understand the writer.
2. Reveal the reader to the reader: Help the reader see themselves.
3. Reveal an idea: Help deliver an a-ha moment.

Any story is a kind of partnership between the writer and the reader.

When one of the truths isn't present—a story falls flat. Feels inauthentic. Is boring.

A balance between all 3 Reveals is key. Over-indexing on one can easily throw the whole experience out of whack, like a wobbly wheel on a shopping cart that keeps listing too much to the right. You fight it—and the whole thing becomes annoying.

A lack of balance in a Reveal shows up in a story when...

1. A writer makes it all about themselves.
2. A writer spends too much time pandering, over-writing, self-consciously explaining. At worst, it's cloying. At best, it feels like a device.
3. A story veers into lecture. (A lot of extremely popular self-help books over-index here... when a story well told would better illuminate an idea.)

* * *

What's that look like in the real world?

I talk a lot about marketing storytelling in the new edition of Everybody Writes. Two new examples of origin stories well told in a marketing context:

1. The origin story of Exaltus Whiteboard Animation: President/Founder Carole Alalouf illustrates the story of how an embarrassing moment launched her business.

• It's her story (reveal the writer).
• But her experience is one we've all also experienced (reveal the reader).
• And she helps us understand that great ideas will get you only so far (reveal that a-ha moment).

2. The story of Velocity Partners. So technically not an origin story. Velocity doesn't show photos of co-founder Doug Kessler born with a copy of Strunk & White in his cottony little fists. (Mrs. Kessler: Plz send photos.)

But this brand new page from its site relaunch does such a tremendous job of the Reveal that I can't even decide which section or sentence to share...

Maybe this:
 

"The good news: caring outperforms not-caring every time—with practical, hard-working campaigns that make steely-eyed CFOs weep (or at least nod sagely and whip out their purchase order pads)."

"To win in this weird little corner of the world, the first thing you have to do is care—about your audience, about craft, and about the capacity of marketing to make the smartest person you know lean forward in an empty room and say: Yes. This."

It makes me weep that this kind of marketing exists in the world.

And yes—I know I've quoted Velocity before. But so what? We're still learning from it.

* * *

This works with your About Us page. Your origin story. Or on MasterChef, of course. CONGRATS NINA! Love you so much!

The day Nina and I met in kindergarten, 2015-ish. 😜

* * *

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DEPARTMENT OF SHENANIGANS

The last word in cheffing mastery.

(P.S. I didn't know this was a trend.)
 

SELECT EVENTS

📅 JUNE 13-14: THE ON24 EXPERIENCE I'll be talking about Generative AI. [free, virtual]

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📅 OCT 4-6: MarketingProfs B2B Forum [Spring Rate ending soon...]

* * *

Thanks for reading this far.

Thanks for your kindness and generosity.

Stay sane. Stay healthy. See you again on June 18.