Logline

"Michael Ian Black shares his favorite recipes in this intimate cooking show that slowly reveals itself to be about much more than just food.”

Basic Premise

On the surface this show appears to be a conventional, rated-G kitchen-based cooking show we’ve all seen a hundred times before.

The show maintains this façade while subtly planting hints of something deeper beneath the surface.

Wait... why is Episode 4 suddenly 88 minutes long and rated TV-MA?

The M Night Shyamalan Twist

Nobody catches it at first. Not even Michael. Every minute you watch is exactly how long it takes to make that meal. No edits. No TV magic.

Just real cooking in real time. (The show never addresses this. Never winks at it. It's just... happening.)

Then comes episode four.

In episode four Michael puts a chicken in the oven (we address him being a vegetarian.) Sets a timer for 60 minutes. And suddenly has to fill that time.

At first, it's exactly what cooking shows normally edit out - the awkward small talk, the waiting, the quiet puttering around the kitchen. But something shifts in that empty time.

Between checking temps and basting, Michael starts talking. Really talking. If you've read his books, you know he can spin meaning from everyday moments.

But this is different - it's happening live, unscripted, while dinner cooks.

The kitchen becomes this accidental stage for a one man show. Picture Ina Garten meets Bo Burnham, minus the polish.

Michael's funny because that's who he is, but this isn't stand-up. It's those quiet moments between the highlights - the ones that turn out to matter most.

Other cooking shows cut these parts out. We built a whole show around them.