Life as a foodblogger with Chiara Maci, TV smurfette
Life as a foodblogger with Chiara Maci, TV smurfette

Video: Life as a foodblogger with Chiara Maci, TV smurfette

Video: Life as a foodblogger with Chiara Maci, TV smurfette
Video: Vita da Food Blogger: intervista a Chiara Maci 2024, March
Anonim

If you had been wondering for months what happened to it Chiara Maci, know that no, she did not take up horse racing, but she worked hard for a new TV format in the "little heart emoticon" style.

Life as a foodblogger is his new program for Fox Life, 10 minutes of cosmic-gastronomic nothing in which he manages to present two recipes (the first with a difficulty level from neonatal age, when the thumb is not yet opposed to hold the spoon).

If, on the other hand, you are a follower of Maci this is not a surprise: you will have actually noticed a certain grueling social bombardment of the aforementioned with the publication of billions of behind-the-scenes posts to make the adoring public salivate.

With Instagram I do not shine by selection: I follow the vicissitudes of jack russell dogs, Anna Tatangelo, Miley Cyrus, and even Chiara Maci. After the discharge of “we're almost there”, “it's coming” and so on, I knew very well what our Chiaruccia was plotting behind her.

So, mathematician, I certainly did not miss the first episode of this pearl of neo-unrealism.

The fact is that that meandering and omnipresent humus of the “Mulino Bianco family” pervades everything: it is not just a latent aftertaste, but rather it has become a real genre and Life as a Foodblogger could become its programmatic manifesto.

Hearts, smiles, winks, do-gooders, naughty little fingers that sneak from bowls (ah brat!), Very deep philosophical maxims worthy of Medio-man.

All this sugary stubby smurfiness (cit., Yes it's a cit.) Nourishes the antichrist in me. It relieves me of some little virtuous doll-killing thoughts.

I don't understand, I say it with all my heart, why a TV format must be glazed, honeyed, aspartamized until the glycemic collapse. Why Chiara, why? I do not say to be promoter of the daily bad luck, but at least not to flutter the hearted hearts in the 32 inches.

Worst of all is the music, which would be unworthy of even a Peppa Pig episode, admit it.

Then there is the intro, a sort of summary of the previous episodes seasoned with scenes of Macian daily life: a kind of homage to the times of the Cioè, Topexan and stickers to stick on the diary.

Then we can open the question of photography. Not that I am an expert in stage lighting, but there is no doubt that Barbara D’Urso (graduate cum laude in blinding "smarmellate" to Boris) would refuse to appear under those merciless and murderous light bulbs.

We want to talk about the stacchetti in which, the first floor of obligation, you smile at life and at the camera? And the advice on the dish like catcher? Maybe the logic of the Fox Life audience escapes me. Maybe my patience slips away.

Recipe chapter: not that we needed another wannabe MasterChef, but lentil soup? Soup?

Give me back Luttazzi on TV, please.

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