With Billie McKay's dramatic and for many totally unexpected win in a marathon duel with Georgia Barnes in the MasterChef finale behind us, we'll have to wait another year to find out the latest definitions of "cheffiness", which superfoods we'll be avoiding and where they'll find another batch of amateurs to match the skills and characters of this year's competition. Between now and then, there's plenty of time to contemplate some of the big lessons that the cooking show has taught us this year.

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When will these reality-show hopefuls learn that trying keep a secret in the era of social media and Google searches is likely to backfire? Mario Montecuollo was briefly in MasterChef's final 24, before an article surfaced in which he was described as head chef of a Sydney bar. His excuse? "I am so passionate about food I got carried away …", a line that wouldn't wash with a bibliophile carrying first-editions from a bookshop without paying for them. On the upside, his removal opened a door for Jessie Spiby, who had narrowly missed out on the shortlist.

What if there was a social media war and no one came?

Social media went into over-drive and vigilante mobs started combing the streets to hunt down contestant John Carasig after a cooking-relay challenge that went horribly wrong for his team. The third of five cooks to work on a planned dish, Carasig went rogue and decided to change the dish mid-way, leaving an exasperated Georgia to fix things up. The team lost, and all five were sent into an elimination round, which claimed bearded hipster Jarrod. Treachery, turncoat, betrayal, the mob bayed. Oddly, though, there was no mention of John's apparent "disloyalty" from any of the judges and even Jarrod graciously refused to blame John.

Want my job, kiddo?

Even the most-jaded reality-TV viewer would have been moved when Marco Pierre White told dessert-whiz-kid Reynold Poernomo he'd employ him anytime. Even if the British chef's "push, push, push" catch-cry grew a bit tiresome, he brought heart, soul and some encore-worthy theatrics to this season.

Matt's pants should stay at home

We all know there's only one thing worse than being talked about, and that's not being talked about. Matt Preston's sartorial choices this year meant he didn't have to worry about the latter scenario. Since making his MasterChef debut seven years ago, Preston single-handedly turned the cravat into the wardrobe essential for any self-respecting urban dandy. But we're going to draw the line at those Technicolour harlequin pants that he's worn with such equanimity this year, pants that a loved-one really should have burned or locked away in the fancy-dress cupboard.

Sand jelly, anyone?

This was the year we discovered that there's not a single food or item on the elementary chart that cannot be jellied. Air jelly, anyone? We blame Heston Blumenthal for this latest food fad, which seems to have a struck a chord with the most recent batch of MasterChef contestants. But we're not complaining. Whether you're wrapping something in jelly or making a jelly replica of the Empire State Building, at least it's one of the few remaining tasks that we can watch taking form with our eyes, unlike all the kitchen "magic" that happens inside a chill-blaster or a sous-vide bath (see below).

Kids these days

Amid the moral panic over children spending too much time on Facebook, playing computer games or watching online pornography, has anyone stopped to consider the pernicious effect that a Financiere sauce can have on a developing brain (let's not even think about Rouennaise). Seriously, you've got to wonder what Reynold and Billie were doing while the rest of us were being troublesome teenagers. At the respective ages of 20 and 23, these two wunderkinds seem to have packed a lot of culinary learning into their short lives.

What would Bear Grylls do?

In this challenge, explain the judges, you'll have 30 minutes to cook two dishes. But there's a catch; you have an open fire, no equipment and you'll have to forage for your food. Bear Grylls may not be coming to MasterChef any time soon, but has the show become too reliant on equipment that is the technological equivalent of James Bond's latest car? Sure, without a chill-blaster, smoking machine or ice-cream churner nothing too fancy would be emerging from the kitchen in a 30-minute challenge, but for a home-cooking show there's something decidedly NASA-like about MasterChef these days. Even season one winner Julie Goodwin took to Twitter recently to remark on the differences between what was in the realm of possibilities then and now.