I HAVE a fool-proof way to hog the TV: I surf and find a food show. Yep, the men of the house leave the room pronto the moment they lay eyes on all the steaming, broiling and sizzling meats and pasta magnified to mouth-watering proportion on the 37? flat TV.

?Nooooooh!? the husband yells, fleeing the room. ?Food porn,? the son mutters disdainfully, rolling his eyes and stalking off. It?s like showing a video of Palawan and wide-open vistas to high-risk prisoners shackled to their 6 x 9 cell, they complain, wiping their drool.

As the guys repair to the kitchen to ransack the pantry, I edge closer to the TV, the better to lick the screen when no one?s looking. Perhaps I should draw the curtains?

If I?m lucky, I catch ?Iron Chef America? (Saturdays, 8:30 p.m., Lifestyle Network, with replays on Sundays at 1 p.m.). It?s equal parts cooking show, reality TV and spectator sports, that has a rising star from the culinary world challenging one of America?s top five chefs?Mario Batali, Cat Cora, Masaharu Morimoto, Bobby Flay and lately, Michael Symon?to a food fight. The two contenders race to create five different dishes within the hour using a secret ingredient, and are judged on taste, plating and originality by a panel of judges.

Unveiled just before the battle begins, the secret ingredient has ranged from the mundane to the exotic to the eewwwww! such as snails, sea urchin, octopus, rabbit, artichoke, sweetmeats, tofu, tilapia, etc. The theme ingredient must go into desserts as well, the only instance that gives me pause about my dream of being a regular judge in a TV food show. Uni tarts? Trout ice cream? I think I?ll pass.

Otherwise, with an open heart and empty stomach, I settle back to watch, play by play, the contending chefs? cooking techniques, mentally filing them away for a future feast. I may be too lazy to cook these days, but that doesn?t mean I can?t be stirring some bouillabaisse in my mind. And well, you never know when a spun sugar basket is called for. How about thinly sliced fried plaintains used like swizzle sticks to spoon up the sabayon?

A lot has been said about ?Iron Chef America? being a lite version of the Japanese original, a cult classic among fans but which I find really cheesy for its misplaced gravitas. That, says ?Iron Chef America? commentator Alton Brown in one interview, is the Godzilla movie version: ?You know, it had such strange pomp and circumstance. And the food was just sometimes plain revolting. I remember they had live eels (once). This guy nailed its head to a cutting board and skinned it while it was alive!?

I agree. I couldn?t get past the maniacal grin of the Chairman (actor Takeshi Kaga) like he knew the secret ingredient?s really cat entrails, and that attention-starved commentator who keeps tugging at the co-host?s pants with his endless ?Fukui San?? (As in ?Fukui San? Chef Sakai has just sliced off his ears.? Or ?Fukui San? The giant octopus is now eating the crew.?) Well, duh, we just watched it. That?s what TV cameras are for, helloooo?

And there?s always a pretty actress among the judges whose dubbed voice inevitably sounds mellifluous, irritatingly so. And that middle-aged fortune teller for a judge? Puh-leeeez! There are just too many distractions and too much prattle. Too cluttered and high camp. Serve up the food already!

So I?m sticking with ?Iron Chef America.? Brisk, to the point, with hints of culinary genius and a spare helping of hilarious food puns from Brown to spice it up.

By the time the show reaches its boiling point, as Brown likes to say, I am mentally tasting the entrees, picking out my favorites, cheering on my choice of winner and adding up the scores. As the three judges avert their eyes from another slimy sea creature being shoved into the ice cream machine, the clock winds down and Chef Cat Cora prepares for the Greek toast that signals her team?s early finish. Then I?d either be pumping a fist in the air should my bet win, or kicking a chair if we lost. Sometimes, it really feels like the World Cup, and my cup overfloweth. Allez cuisine!

WHEN I?m feeling more laidback (oh alright, too old and tired), I switch instead to Michael Smith?s ?Chef at Home? (Mondays to Fridays, 11 p.m., AFC), for a comforting dose of his freestyle approach to cooking.

?You don?t have to try for this unattainable pinnacle of perfection,? he says on his show, ripping a roasted chicken apart using two ordinary tongs instead of artfully carving the bird in a series of telegenic sawing motions. See, he says, dropping the chicken bones and skin into another pot. ?You?re not losing any flavor. You can just mix the shredded chicken with the salad underneath and serve it up. And the carcass we?ve saved in that pot? That?s your broth or soup for tomorrow?s dinner. ?

Ohhh, and the guy watches the bottomline too. How can you not love this man? His looking a bit like Aidan from ?Sex and the City? doesn?t hurt either.

Unlike perpetually scowling Bobby Flay and self-absorbed Emeril Lagaste, Smith is warm and welcoming, making friendly patter as he putters around his homey kitchen. No airs, no fancy knife work, none of those complicated kitchen implements that intimidate aspiring chefs from venturing into what some chefs designate as sacrosanct space. The guy might well be Auguste Gusteau (save for the girth, or lack of), the absent but inspiring character in the animated movie ?Ratatouille? whose cookbook, ?Anyone Can Cook,? prods the mouse Remy to follow his dream. That could be Chef Smith?s enduring philosophy as well.

Recipes, Smith believes, should only be a base and not a rigid set of instructions, to help us understand what the dish is all about. Why are we adding scallions?, he asks, answering his own question while he chops the vegetable. ?Can white onions do as well?? The chatty Q and A goes on as he prepares the dish, never once deviating from the level tone and breaking eye contact. Why do we need to beat the eggs before adding them? What happens if the oil isn?t hot enough? If we wanted a healthier option, what ingredients can we change?

Knowing such inside info should help us relax in the kitchen, Smith adds soothingly. They can help us adopt techniques and ingredients we?re more comfortable with, and later, to inject our personality into the food we?re cooking. ?You?re not trying to duplicate how I make the dish; instead I want you to get inspired to try your own hand at it,? he tells the viewers.

Very well said, and effective enough to get me scrounging around the cupboard for something I can whip up at midnight. Fortunately, the late news is on by this time. Believe me: no nascent appetite, no bubbling enthusiasm, no can-do spirit can withstand that distressing onslaught of tomorrow?s headlines. I go to bed and mentally promise Mike Smith a personality-infused dish some other time. No pressure. No stress. No rush.