My MasterChef Season 8 Audition Story

It’s not every day--or even every year--that something happens which literally changes your life. And when I say literally, I mean it. Auditioning for MasterChef Season 8 completely shifted the course of my life. It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done… and, even now, I can’t say I wouldn’t do it again. Time has a way of showing you how moments of discomfort can push you toward dreams you didn’t even know you had.

I don’t talk about my MasterChef experience much anymore, but I wanted to share why I’m “in the business of food.” This is part of the road that led me to where I am today--and to The Foodie Eats.

One Night on the Couch

I’ve been a MasterChef fan for years--same with pretty much every Gordon Ramsay show. I’m more of a binge-watcher than a week-to-week viewer, but I rarely miss a season. One late night during Season 6, I saw a promo: “Auditions coming to a city near you!” Orlando was on the list. Without hesitation, I filled out the application. The next morning, I told my wife what I’d done.

Speaking of my wife… she was the true MVP of the whole process. She helped with the long application, picked my callback outfit (the producers loved it so much I wore it every day on set), and pushed me to follow through when the reality of the commitment hit me.

Busy Life. Cold Feet.

The weekend of open casting was packed--two events, my daughter’s first birthday, and general chaos. I almost bailed. At the last minute, Tiffany from MasterChef called and talked me back into showing up.

That day, I made the first cut. Then the second. Then the third. They asked me to come back the next day. With each cut, I kept getting called. Before I knew it, I was on my way to Los Angeles.

Cooking Like Crazy

During that time, I cooked like my life depended on it--poached eggs, Gordon Ramsay’s Beef Wellington, anything I’d seen on the show. Somewhere in the middle of all that, I realized two things: I was actually a pretty good cook, and I loved it. Cooking felt like music--you create, refine, and share it. Only instead of a song, it’s a recipe.

Bye Wife. Bye Life.

The hardest part? Leaving my family. I left behind a 20-week pregnant wife and a 16-month-old daughter. Contact would be… minimal, to put it mildly. The night before my 6 a.m. flight, we stayed in the airport hotel to get a little extra time together. I didn’t know if I’d be gone a week or months. It was a strange mix of excitement and helplessness.

City of Angels

The first week in LA was surreal--meeting the other hopefuls, stepping onto the set, soaking it all in. Even now, many of us are still in touch. Then came the Top 40 cuts.

The Good. The Bad. The Ugly.

I didn’t make the show. The producers told me they loved me but asked if I’d stay as an alternate. That meant a week of waiting for someone to drop out. It was the toughest week--present but invisible to the producers, visible to the cast. The tension was real.

By the end, my number never got called. On the way back to the hotel, all the emotions I’d been holding back poured out--disappointment, relief, gratitude, doubt. All of it.

Home. Sweet Home.

After an early wakeup, a cross-country flight, and a three-hour time change, I spotted my wife and daughter at baggage claim. Tears. Hugs. Smiles. On the drive home, everything looked different--even the weeds in my yard. Somewhere in that moment, a new dream took root: I couldn’t let go of food.

Now What?

Watching Season 8 air was surreal. I cheered for my favorites, spotted myself in a few background shots, and stayed connected with the incredible people I’d met. That experience didn’t just push me into cooking--it made me want to build something. The Foodie Eats is part of that dream.