Cage Match 2010: Chef v. Caterpillar, Part I
Chef Nathan Lyon Chef | Television Host
“You’re telling me that a moth flew up, willy-nilly, to my second-story patio, and laid some eggs, thus causing my plants to currently look as if a horde of pre-teens jacked out on sugar, went psycho on my leaves with hole-punchers?”
“I’m afraid so, yes. What have you done so far to remedy your caterpillar infestation?”
“I’ve been tweezing. Them, not me.”
This is an excerpt from a conversation I had recently with someone from my local mom-and-pop gardening store. The caterpillar had cometh, and I needed help. While there, even after a short while, it became abundantly clear that everyone around me, all nodding in agreement, shared my frustration. The not-so-pretty side of Mother Nature can be, well, not so pretty. The side of Mother Nature who gets very little sleep, consumes too much sodium, and drinks one too many nightcaps hangin’ out with Father Time over the weekend. It all happened so quickly, too. I was only gone five days, and in that short period of time, my cute little patio garden, quite simply, just fell apart.
Upon leaving for my trip up north, my plants were happy. They were singing in harmony, telling wildly interesting stories, and giggled when I watered them. Cut to five days later when I returned home, and my plants were under a full-scale attack, being (literally) eaten alive. That ain't cool.
The happy singing and giggling was all but a memory. The only sounds to be heard were mainly my expletives. So naturally, I did what any man who built his garden boxes from scratch, who handpicked his plants, who diligently planted, watered, and pruned his organic garden would have done: I surveyed the situation, took it personally, then went a little crazy.
Okay, maybe there was a small twinge of panic involved, sure, but in that moment my head was filled with the theme song from “Mission Impossible” (the original CBS series from the late 60s and early 70s, not the movie version) and I was also, quite honestly, a little (expletive) upset. So I quickly did the second thing any man under similar circumstances would have done (Joe can back me up on this one), I grabbed my trusty silver-tipped tweezers, and went hunting ... for caterpillars.
Check back in a few days for the conclusion and to find out who won – Chef or caterpillar?