Behind the Eats - Recap

Alton opens at the Good Eats Operations Center (located on the outskirts of a town just like yours), where mailman Mel staggers in under a load of fan mail. Seems Mel’s getting just a little tired of carrying letters containing the same questions to the show, so Alton proposes to answer some of those questions, for the viewers... and for Mel.

To explain what goes into a show, Alton pulls out his secret recipe, which he keeps in his trademark salt cellar (and really, where else would it be?) A show starts with the three R’s. Research, and lots of it, forms the basis of each show. Recipes are equally important, for the better they taste, the better the show will be. Finally, there’s the writing. Okay, that one just sounds like an R. Alton basically takes all the research and sits in a room for ten to twelve hours a day and eventually something comes out. Hopefully, something good.

Just like in real estate, location is crucial. Alton and his team look for multi-tasking locations – places where a lot of things can be shot. Ideally, these are close to the production team and the actors and really, really cheap. Alton demonstrates how an airport hanger and a tricky moving light made it appear that he was flying for the introduction to “Tender is the Loin (Part 1)”; as the plane “turns” the light moves to simulate the changing sun position. He also introduces the man who does the sound recording. A time-lapse montage of the crew breaking down after the shoot highlights how much work goes into the episode.

The opening of “Tender is the Loin (Part 2)” was shot on a boat. But that boat was inside at the dealership, not on the high seas. A little tracing paper on the windows and careful control of camera angles changes a boat dealer next to a highway into a boat on the water.

Camaraderie helps when the crew spends so much time waiting for a burst of action as the task their responsible for completing rises to the top of the queue. Alton introduces Brett S. a production and editing assistant whom Alton claims can stand perfectly still for hours, and then spring into action “like a panther.” Following that Alton introduces production assistant Chris B. whose portrayed Satan in a recent episode.

Another key to successful location shooting is adaptability. If the script calls for a location but the available locations don’t quite match, the writer must fit the script around what he can find. Alton cites “Shell Game IV,” a script that called for a small, crusty fishing boat. All the crew could find was a houseboat on a lake, so that’s what made it into the final episode. In “Squid Pro Quo” the script called for a beach. That was built in the back lot from a few hundred dollars of sand and some cleverly positioned lights.

Mostly, location shooting requires an early rise, lugging equipment, rewriting the script a few times, some shooting, some fishing, some television watching, more shooting, perhaps more fishing, more television, cooking where cooking shouldn’t be done, still more television, maybe a party, and finally the trip back home. A very long day.

Wacky sets make explanations clear. Alton shows how the breakaway cow for the tenderloin episodes was made from plastic and foam, and how the giant grill complete with glowing charcoal went together. Cardboard tubes and black paint made the grating with painted foam steaks on top and variactor controlled lights for coals. “Olive Me” called for a dentist’s office. A little diffusion paper, some X-rays, an antique dentist chair and a member of the crew acting as a dentist turned a vacant upstairs office into a dentist’s office set. For “Raising the Bar” the team built a complete bar set with a working ejector chair. Property master Todd looked enough like Bond to handle the live action sequences; for the ejector seat the team dressed a dummy in his clothes and hauled it into the air with a dark colored rope disguised by shadows. Ideally, cheaply made sets fall apart when the shoot is over so money need not be spent to demolish them!

A lot of viewers ask about the kitchen, so Alton talks about that next. The kitchen is a character by itself, like the car from Knight Rider. But everything is absolutely real... why is the scene outside moving? The entire window backdrop slides aside! Well, Alton continues, at least the living room is... suddenly the living room slides away!

Alton visits the home of producer Dana P. where he reveals the real version of the kitchen people see on the show. Seasons five and six were shot in this home, but the neighbors grew concerned with the amount of traffic and in the interest of remaining good neighbors, Alton purchased a new building and moved production there for later seasons.

Another popular question asks how the show gets those shots from “inside” the oven. Early on they used a complicated “oven cam” that involved a lot of tape and luck. And they did melt a camera back then. Now... Alton shows an oven with a hole in the back through while the camera can shoot. Further down the wall a cabinet has the same handy feature, as does a microwave and a refrigerator. The microwave also lacks a magnetron, the component that generates microwave energy, permitting it to “run” with the camera shooting. As for the food in the refrigerator... some if it is simply empty packages, and some of it is real. Much of it is carefully turned or altered, a process called Greeking, so that viewers cannot read the labels.

Sweet camera gear makes those clever shots possible. Alton introduces director of photography Marion L. who controls all the camera equipment. With his enormous remote control he can zoom in or out, pan, change the focus and control the feed. Perhaps it’s not surprising that he trusts only himself with that much power; he refuses to surrender the remote, muttering about “his precious.”

Katherine S. supervises the script, when she’s not busy reading the newspaper. The script fills a thick three ring binder and contains as well all the shooting notes. Mike operates the microphones, and Ramon controls a mechanism that’s nearly as large as he is: a complex arrangement of gimbals and weights called a Steadicam. It makes complex walking shots easy by damping out small movements of the cameraman as he walks.

That takes Alton to the property room, a large vault where... property assistant Paul M. is tossing darts at a picture of Alton pinned to a board! The shelves of this room bear bin after bin of props, both purchased (an alien whose brain pops from his head when he’s squeezed) to the handmade (a large onion suitable for use over someone’s head, as Alton demonstrates).

Here Alton reveals the sordid truth: after The Addams Family, the original Thing couldn’t get work, became addicted to finger food and soon passed away. But he had a son, Thing Jr., who lives in a stylin’ bachelor bad that fits inside a steamer trunk when he’s not helping Alton cook.

Skilled thespians bring all sorts of characters to life for the show. The key to economy here is to hire one actor and get dozens of roles from him or her. Daniel Pettrow has played the muffine man, Rusty (from the chili episode) and Alton’s neighbor Chuck on several episodes. He introduced the team to Bart Hansard, better known as Coco Carl and others. Widdi Turner has played “superfan” Francis Anderson as well as a French shop girl, a scary church lady and a diner waitress. And one of the rules of Good Eats is that crew may be called on to appear in front of the camera. Various crew members have portrayed characters with small parts on many occasions.

Experts lend authenticity to the show. Shirley Corriher appears frequently; she is a top-notch teacher. Deb Duchon is a real nutritional anthropologist and Carolyn O’Neil lends modern nutritional expertise. And then there’s W. W is... not an expert in food preparation equipment. She’s a chiropractor (Alton’s chiropractor, in fact).

Cool costumes like the giant lobster drive points home. Sometimes Alton wears these but often a crew member fills this role.

Behind the scenes, making Alton’s job look easy, are the crafty culinary experts who work with him to develop and test the recipes. They make sure that everything that might take longer than two minutes to do is done ahead of time so that an example is ready when the camera is – can’t hold up production to wait for food to finish cooking.

For the pilot episode Alton’s mom was the only kitchen staffer, and she was recovering from surgery! Now six different people do that job. Other members of Alton’s family have appeared, but not all of them are really family: Marsha Brown Brady is really actress Merrilyn Crouch, while actor John Herina plays the role of her child and Alton’s nephew Elton. Steve Rooney has portrayed some of Alton’s more distant relations, including Cousin Ray, and other characters too. And B.A. Brown, Alton’s less reputable brother? Well, some family secrets must remain secrets.

The geeks shall inherit the Earth, or so Alton says as he moves on to some of the more esoteric production tasks. Ginger C. is an editor whose tasks include compositing and split screens – the tricks that allow Alton to appear side by side with himself. Walter B. is an animate in the style of Monty Python’s Terry Gilliam. He uses photomanipulation software to build the animated interludes and montages Alton occasionally uses to recount historical food facts or tie scenes together. And the wide and wonderful array of music and sound effects come from Patrick Beldin, whose skills and extensive library give the show its audio texture.

Finally there are the puppets, like Tender and Flaky, who represent the two opposing goals of pie crust construction. Or the sock puppet yeast who demonstrate fermentation. Or any of dozens of other instructional characters.

As viewers can see, it’s just a happy little band making a straightforward cooking show. Mel the Mailman seems to have calmed down; perhaps he’s hoping that with questions answered, fewer viewers will send letters, and he’ll have a straighter gait and a less painful back. And... suddenly a giant tentacle grabs the mail carrier and hauls him into the air! Unmoved by Alton’s demands, the tentacles owner Fluffy keeps a grip on poor Mel...

... and as the credits roll, viewers can see that “Fluffy” pivotes on a floor stand as a man operates levers set in the back of it. A wire hauled Mel toward the ceiling and the “Fluffy” operator simply matched the motion. One more myth dispelled: Fluffy is not a real giant squid...

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