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With six successful series under their bulging belts, it’s all change for this year’s MasterChef (BBC1) with a new format that copies the hugely successful Australian and NZ versions. Starting from the earliest stages of the competition, wannabe chefs are ruthlessly knocked out one by one like Jaws picking off tourists at the beach because their mashed potato was a bit on the lumpy side.

Sadly, it’s a case of too many cooks spoil the broth. Everything rings of mindless reality shows like X Factor, where we are privy to the earliest audition processes and huge pauses precede every predictable decision in an attempt to create some kind of trepidation. The harsh theme tune and solitary bass note which used to provoke so much tension and excitement is a rare occurrence, instead replaced by winsome melodies which induce both sorrow and joy, but above all, that familiar TV faux-emotion vibe.

Roll out the hopeful relatives who have gathered to support their loved one’s dream, and spew out sob stories about how much they want to be on MasterChef. What would winning mean to them? Everything. Tell us something we don’t know. Whilst passion is important in cooking, I must’ve been too busy deconstructing a trifle to have noticed that suddenly desire has become a gradable merit with which a person can win or lose.

MasterChef used to be respected as a straight-forward but brutally demanding show, forging its own unique way in competitive TV programming where food of the highest quality could be scrutinised for the joyous pleasure of the mouth-watering audience. By following the increasingly standardised format used by so many other unashamedly commercial programmes, MasterChef’s producers are forgetting that the delicious food and judges Gregg Wallace and John Torode are the real stars of the show, not the inner psychology or feelings of random competitors who we’ve been watching for a full thirty seconds.

Still, it’s early days, so we can only hope that the dumbed-down predictable nonsense is stripped away and MasterChef reverts at least some way to its original form. It would mean the world to me if it did; just ask my relatives.