There’s such an abundance of food-related competition shows out there that it can be challenging to dig through the lesser-thans. This is especially true of a Netflix series, as the streaming service has become a wasteland of untapped potential where shows go to die. That said, it’s done well by its Korean series over the past few years. From juggernauts such as Physical 100 to the reality dating series Singles Inferno and the lesser known but just as enjoyable Siren: Survive the Island, the Korean Netflix slate is rife with solid reality competition series. Its latest, Culinary Class Wars, is an absolute triumph. And its success comes from one key factor — it genuinely celebrates its competitors.
Such an observation seems obvious. However, so often, competition series weigh themselves down with unnecessary fodder. It becomes one person against another or a stage for judges to tear down its talent. In the case of Culinary Class Wars, while the judges are discerning in their criticism and the contestants are competing against one another, it often seems more like they’re competing against themselves. They aim to keep climbing their skill sets to prove why they’re the best chef.
The series begins with one hundred elite chefs split into two classes. There are the white spoons, renowned celebrity chefs, and the black spoons, chefs who are under the radar but still successful. All compete for a significant cash prize plus the notoriety of winning. Evoking a Physical 100 framework, the series brutally slashes its numbers in the first round, as the judges go around to trim the fat of the competition by eliminating 60 black spoons, leaving only 20 remaining to face off against the same number of white spoons.
Part of the series’ immediate charm is due to the presence of its judges: Paik Jong-won, a veteran restaurateur and celebrity chef, and Anh Sung-jae, the only Michelin three-star chef in Korea. Paik, in particular, has become a strong presence in reality series in Korea, and he has an easy affability that lends itself to this type of show, especially when he works to bring balance as an every-man diner compared to Anh’s fine dining expertise.
But the real magic comes when we get to know the strengths of the main contestants and the increasingly tricky competitions they’re thrust into. The silliest is easily the blind taste test. However, it speaks to the authenticity of the series as it ensures the judges are purely judging based on taste rather than external factors that could sway their vote. Is it relatively unlikely that the series could maintain an equal balance of white vs. black spoons throughout its run? Sure. But there were few instances where it felt like the wrong contestant had been cut.
Spoilers
Watching the chefs engage in their passion and see the fruits of their labor in real time makes even the most hesitant home cooks want to step up. The variety of cuisine is impressive. Beyond Korean cuisine, plenty of chefs specialize in everything from Chinese and Japanese cooking to Italian. In pure ingenuity, one of the top contestants (and eventual winner), Napoli Matfia, utilized his skillset to whip up a chestnut tiramisu using only convenience store ingredients.
How chefs utilized their skills and on-the-fly flexibility make Culinary Class Wars such an engaging watch. This is best demonstrated in the highlight of the series, the semifinal “Endless Cooking Hell” round. In it, the seven compete in an elimination-style competition in order for one of them to go up against Napoli Matfia in the final.
Edward Lee, Triple Star, Cooking Maniac, Jang Ho-joon, Auntie Omakase #1, Jung Ji-sun, and Choi Hyun-seok compete in rounds of 30 minutes, taking place directly one after another, as each must come up with and cook a dish using the critical ingredient: tofu. If a contestant fails to complete their dish or it’s the least liked, they’re eliminated.
The effort is considerable, watching these enormously talented chefs work against time and the limitations of diminishing creativity. White Spoon Edward Lee — a renowned Iron Chef winner — developed the most eclectic courses. His courses were endlessly inventive, from Kentucky fried tofu to tofu crème brule. Black Spoon Triple Star, meanwhile, was the most consistent in his precision to the point where fellow competitors believed he would be the ultimate victor of the game.
The elimination round brings out the only real complaint about the series. While Napoli Matfia is talented, it’s hard to say if he’d have been in the final two if he had to compete in the tofu round, rather than getting to move forward after winning in the previous “cook your life” round, which was less mentally and physically draining.
Culinary Class Wars is one of Netflix’s most enjoyable and least cynical competition series in years, and much of its charm lies in watching chefs of all backgrounds—classically trained, self-taught, or somewhere in between—put everything on the line. There’s a certain magic in seeing school lunch cooks face off against celebrity and presidential chefs, and it’s fascinating to witness food as a shared language, especially through Edward Lee. Though Korean, Lee has lived in the U.S. most of his life and isn’t fluent in Korean, yet he uses his time on the show to reconnect with his heritage, express himself, and honor his roots through his cooking.
As he presents his final course, it’s hard not to feel emotional as he shares the story behind his dish and the significance of his name. If Netflix greenlights a Season 2, capturing the essence of Season 1 might prove challenging, but for now, Culinary Class Wars stands as one of the finest examples of escapist reality TV out there.