The strange tale of how an awful cook got hooked on Food Network

It all started with a late-night viewing of “Iron Chef” - the old Japanese one, not the American one. They’re quite different you know.

Perhaps you don’t know, so just take my word on it: There is a world of difference between “Iron Chef” and “Iron Chef America.” The difference runs much deeper than the differences between the two chairmen that oversee the shows.

If you don’t know who the chairmen are, then sit back, relax, and let one of the worst cooks in the world tell you the strange tale of how he got hooked on a channel that combines education and entertainment better than perhaps any other on television.

Oh, sure, there’s Discovery and History and Animal Planet. There’s HGTV, DIY and PBS. There are plenty of other channels out there that all do a fine job of teaching and entertaining simultaneously, but let me ask you just one question.

Do any of them have a show where chefs are treated like gladiators and pitted savagely against each other for the enjoyment of a sadistic Asian man?

No?

Well, Food Network does, and as I said before, my entire addiction to the delicious channel started with a chance encounter with the original Asian version of “Iron Chef.”

Both the original and the American update feature four Iron Chefs who stand around on pedestals looking totally tough and waiting for some snot-nosed competitor to come get some.

If it sounds like I’m using some rough language to describe a bunch of “cooks” with big hats, then you’ve never watched “Iron Chef.” The show is a lot like watching two great sax players stand in front of a rhythm section and solo for all they’re worth, or like watching two boxers who instead of hitting each other with fists, hit each other with flavor.

Yeah, mull that one over.

The point is that watching “Iron Chef,” you begin to get a sense for not only the knowledge and skill that go into creating truly intoxicating flavors and alluring presentations, but the pressure that these cats must be under in kitchens all around the world every day.

Really, the main difference between the Japanese and American versions of “Iron Chef” is that the Japanese version is dubbed over with English translations of the judges’ and announcers’ commentary, creating sometimes hilarious moments amid the riveting mayhem.

My favorite part is when the poor schlep who has to run around the floor trying to figure out what the chefs are making has to say, “Fukuri San,” or something to that effect, to try to get the host’s attention. Initially, I thought the phrase was Japanese for “excuse me,” but it turns out that “Fukuri” might just be the name of the host. Such is the fun of being an ignorant American.

I’m not the kind to suggest playing drinking games, because drinking games are stupid. If, however, you’re the kind of person who needs a game to encourage you to drink (which I guess is the equivalent of when your mom used to pretend the spoon was an airplane so that you’d open up the “hangar” of your mouth to receive unwanted food) I’d imagine that taking a drink every time that guy says “Fukuri San” would be kind of fun.

The American version of "Iron Chef," on the other hand, is hosted by the one and only Alton Brown, the Woody Allen of Food Network. Decked out in glasses and spiky blonde hair, he’s either the most charismatic geek in the world or the smartest game show host. I can never quite tell.

Either way, he does a great job of offering both play-by-play and color commentary as Iron Chefs Bobby Flay, Mario Batali, Cat Cora and Masaharu Morimoto do battle with top chefs from around the world. Watching over it all is the Chairman, Mark Dacascos, who is not only a lover of great food, but an actor and martial arts expert, to boot.

But enough about “Iron Chef.” While my love of Food Network might have started out with that particular show, it has broadened to include many of the great shows the channel offers.

Alton’s signature show, “Good Eats,” for instance, is brilliant in its simplicity. Each week, he takes a different dish or ingredient and explores it from every angle. He tells you its history, its many uses, how to get the best flavor out of it and even performs silly skits to illustrate his many points. Even if your cooking skills are limited to making sandwiches, salads and pasta (as mine are), you can glean universal ideas from “Good Eats” that can be applied to whatever your first step will be beyond your culinary comfort zone.

Alton also has another entertaining show called “Feasting on Asphalt,” in which he treks across the country on a motorcycle using only back roads and, correspondingly, eating at only the restaurants he comes across on those byways.

Two other shows that are great for those interested in approaching food from an educational standpoint are “Unwrapped,” with former “Double Dare” host Mark Summers, and “The Secret Life Of,” with Jim O’Connor.

If you’re looking for a more conventional cooking show, “Ciao America with Mario Batali” is great, but my personal favorite for a multitude of reasons is “Everyday Italian” with Giada de Laurentiis.

So far, my girlfriend has put up with my, um, infatuation with this show with good humor, and the last thing I want to do is strain her patience. Having said that, I must also tell you that I would be remiss in my duties as a serious journalist if I didn’t tell you that Giada is very beautiful and also very charming. That’s not to say she isn’t also a talented cook. I’m pretty sure that if Eliza Dushku hosted her own cooking show, it would suck despite all her hotness.

Moving along.

In addition to Giada’s charm, she also has a flair for making what might seem like a dauntingly complex dish seem simple enough even for me to manage. Much like “Good Eats,” certain principles of cooking are reiterated again and again, so that when you’re standing in the kitchen trying to help your significant other cook (but really just being a monumental nuisance) and she says, “Hmmm, I wonder what the best method would be for straining yogurt to make tzatziki,” you can answer, “Why not try using a cheesecloth suspended inside a pitcher with skewers,” and not be laughed out of the room.

Such are the ample rewards of watching Food Network, but really, if I’m honest with myself, I’ll admit that it’s really just some well-

edited, well-filmed TV that keeps my interest with intelligent hosts, cool sets and, of course, scrumptious food.

As long as you avoid any show with Emeril Lagasse, Paula Deen or, most importantly, Rachel Ray, whose ubelievably shrill and mannered vocal affectations are the audio equivalent of Spam sculpted into the shape a swan, you can have your cake and watch it, too.

Ultimately, someday you might just take the unforeseeable step of actually getting off the couch and trying to make something for yourself.

Seriously. It could happen.