And they’re racing. Two horses in the Regurgitated Format Cup this week, on screens near you.

In the bright red silks, there’s the five-season-old The Voice (Channel 9) with its four celebrity jockeys, each anxious to prove they’re the one with most to offer the plumber, architect, Brisbane bombshell, single dad etc.

In the warm, rich colours of food, there’s the eight-season-old MasterChef (Channel 10) with its three jockeys who seem more interested in welcoming and supporting their teacher, golfer, airline pilot, rangers etc to deliver superb food than big-noting themselves.

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Both shows left the barrier on Sunday night so, after the first episodes, which horse will cross the finish line first and which will end up in the knackery?

My money is on MasterChef to win the race by a country mile. From almost the first minute, it has the focus on home cooks and there’s a sense of excitement and engagement.

There are, of course, bucketloads of clichés delivered with passion – “my future”, “chance of a lifetime”, “I want it so badly”, “food is my life” and the rather apt “This is like Disneyland”.

When judges Gary Mehigan, Matt Preston (in a glorious purple checked suit) and George Calombaris arrive, it’s like your three favourite uncles have come through the door to say hello.

They seem genuinely excited to be welcoming the new contestants and tasting the food.

Very quickly, characters with great stories start to emerge, allowing the audience to become engaged.

There’s teacher and single mum Cecelia, whose brain injury from a snowboarding accident meant she couldn’t take her place in the competition two years ago.

Her delicious little boy Nathan is by her side and she, once again, stuns the judges with her macaroons, ice cream and little ball concoction and gets her apron back.

It’s what the show does well – finding amazing cooks who are brilliantly cast to guarantee warmth, fun and stunning food.

By contrast, the tired old nag that is The Voice is really all about the stars who judge and mentor the seemingly endless array of fairly average (with some exceptions) singers. Not that we’d really know because the cameras are on the stars for much of their singing.

Jessie J (newly blonde and leading the pack from the helicopter that delivers them to the studio), “new boy” Ronan Keating, The Madden brothers and Delta Goodrem hit the stage immediately, clearly to demonstrate that they are the best singers in this show.

As with MasterChef, we quickly see our first sad contestant’s story with Alfie Arcuri’s sister having survived Hodgkin Lymphoma, as Delta did. He sang well enough to turn the chairs and chose Delta’s team.

Reality TV show audiences expect the sad stories but, on MasterChef, they are woven into the fabric of the show far more seamlessly than on The Voice.

That’s just one example of why MasterChef is my clear “Regurgitated Format” Cup winner. Quite simply, its casting and its production standards are the best – though both shows come out of the Endemol Shine production company.

Unlike The Voice, MasterChef has no voiceover, telling me what I already know, no tedious recaps in case I’m too stupid to remember what happened before the ad break and no pointless videos explaining that Jessie J and Delta are friends now (unlike last year) or how famous Ronan is when we’ve seen him for years on X Factor.

But, above all, it seems Australia has an endless supply of amazing, passionate home cooks whereas our pool of singing talent might just have dried up.