After ten years, the Food Network announced earlier this week that it will discontinue Emeril Lagasse’s evening extravaganza “Emeril Live.”

Reading the news about Emeril’s demotion took me down memory lane. I “met” Emeril the day after Thanksgiving ’98, to be exact. He was a rather awkward chef on Public Television with an odd kind of appeal. Actually, I was watching a star (brand) in the making without knowing it. He was preparing a brisket and said things like: “Add lots of garlic … that will make the meat happy.” Little did I know: the rub (essence) he used on the brisket would become his signature ingredient and many of his quips would become part of everyday language: “kick it up a notch” … “oh, yeah baby” … “the chicken police” ... “bam!” … “smellyvision”…

So, other than that, what will be left, once Emeril limits his presence to some special appearances and his mid-afternoon stint “Essence of Emeril?” The final verdict may still be out, but like it or not, Emeril almost single-handedly revolutionized the TV cook category. Is he a good cook? I don’t know. His recipes are mostly predictable, and his plating skills are non-existent. Has he introduced generations to cooking, while butchering almost every (mostly French) term used to describe one or the other technique? Absolutely, but that has been a major part of his appeal. He took “stuffy” and “scary” out of cooking and made possible the careers of Rachel Rae and a throng of other semi-talented personalities.

But, to me, Emeril is a phenomenon for another reason. He is what I might call a “food-tele-evangelist.” The man and his consultants have had an uncanny sense for counter-trend. While most of America has gone on a carb craze in particular and a diet frenzy in general, Emeril has made indulgence (evil), including mounds of butter, alcohol, sugar and cream a civil right. He has given people the freedom (absolution) to enjoy themselves, while creating a huge market (flock) for himself and his many ventures, including restaurants, TV shows, hot sauces, books, etc.

For a decade, he has transfixed his audience (congregation) as much as any good tele-evangelist. They have hung on every word he said, shouted “bam” on cue and “oohed” whenever he used an ungodly amount of a no-no ingredient, not to forget Emeril’s self-concocted essence (spirit). To top it off, the man has a band (choir). Need I say more? Emeril is religion.

Bam, Emeril! I mean…amen!

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