*oh sandra, no.

I don't get all the dust kicked up over Sandra Lee. Seems like complaining that SL can't cook is like griping that Ashlee Simpson doesn't sing live. Firstly, did she ever pretend to? And second ... would we want her to?

I think what you see with Sandra is what you get. She's fun! This is a woman who made a cocktail with orange juice and red wine. No, you goof, not sangria. Burgundy! With Tropicana! It's like ... well, it's basically a recipe for homemade stomach acid.

She's also precisely as advertised. She even demonstrates this with FACTS and FIGURES. "70% store-bought ingredients. 30% homemade." That's both helpful and specific. Have you ever heard of a better idea than this? They're nachos ... but instead of chips ... you ready? You use frozen waffle fries. Genius. I will not be persuaded otherwise.

Still, I've never really been able to support Sandra's faux kitchen. I also sort of want to tube-feed her waffle fries, because her physical fragility is worrisome. And then, something happened today that made me think someone needs to be prepared for an intervention. And that something is this:



Sandy, what is that? Is that your rib cage? Has your body actually turned inside out? Or did you enjoy some sort of Laura-Ashley-in-bondage fantasy last night (and no one's judging) and forget to change? I read an article in the New York Times the other day about Ingrid Hoffmann and was put off by the writer's description of her as a "cleavage cook." (I do, however, agree with her assessment. I'd like Ingrid to quit yelling at me, too. But Bobby and Mario are arrogant and testosterone-charged. No one calls them "gonad gourmets." All women have breasts. Not all women are screaming meemies. Is all I'm saying.)

Darn it, Sandra! Now look what your corset made me do—and really, do, look at it again—I digressed.



I can't get enough. Check it out from the side.



Did you have organs removed? You're just not doing yourself a service here. I'm not saying the Food Network isn't a lot of fluff a lot of the time. I'm saying we live in a world where, in a lineup of competent cooks/TV personalities, there are some who still think the most notable thing about women is the length of their sleeves. And you're not helping.

I'll give you this. But think about some nice J. Jill. Please.