Last Night's Top Chef Finale Was....

Completely, utterly, disgustingly meh.

Carla--How the hell do you let your bum-ass sous chef (who choked so spectacularly in the Season 3 finale that the best thing she presented all night was made by Howie "Sweat Lord" Kleinberg) talk you out of a kick-ass menu? If you don't know how to sous vide, don't do it! You rule at tarts, make tarts. Casey Thompson, you were out of line opening your mouth, you clearly don't understand the true purpose of a sous chef. Don't show up in DC. Ever. You know who pays triple at Ben's Chili Bowl? You, bitch.

Stefan--It should have been your title, and you got outcooked. What the freak. Though by the wacky Fin not winning, Season 4 chef Stephanie Izard still has the most total main competition wins (5) and the most impressive show resume by a TC champ.

The Guy Who Won--I know your name. Congrats on being the most hated winner since Season 2, and the most mediocre chef to ever win (1 individual challenge win?) And it's already being figured out that sous chef Richard Blais was largely responsible for your dishes--so much for that "I made my food" comment. Assclown.

Edited to add Casey's classy response:

http://sidedish.dmagazine.com/2009/02/26/casey-thompson-speaks-out-about-top-chef/

Carla was not prepared and in over her head. The show did not talk about how the first course (crab) took her half of the friggin’ cooking time that day, I was left to work the rest of HER dishes.

She also did not have a plan. The ONLY thing she had in mind was a cheese course! I would NEVER do a cheese course. And where in the hell did french come from!? She is not even classically trained! It (the show) didn’t talk about how I worked on a sauce for 2 days and Carla forgot to put it on the plate… It didn’t show how the 2nd course (fish) was MINE. It didn’t show how she took the sous vide idea and decided to GRILL it last minute causing it to be tough… And it didn’t show how she WANTED to do the souffles which she does not even know how to make! That was HER food, because it certainly was me asking her how she wanted to do this and that while she was busy picking crab the entire time and making a souffle that didn’t rise!

I am done with TC. I did not influence her. She has NO ideas of her own, oh, except a cheese course.

What a cunt!

Top Chef: New York--The Midterm Report

The premier food show on cable shoots its fifth season in the Big Apple. Few things sounded more promising; as both a melting pot and the bustling unofficial U.S. capital, NY offers up endless eats, whether it's high-class restaurants, local landmarks that offer simple food done right, or the street vendors that service people with absolutely no discerning palate whatsoever.

So why do the chefs this year suck? Why has no one created a dish that made the judges beyond thrilled to have their jobs? There is fan speculation that this group is too immature to handle the standard criticisms that all contestants will receive over the course of the challenges, that they perceive being told where they fouled up a dish as nothing less than an ambush on their souls. Whatever it is, the show is perilously close to being renamed, So You Think You Can Cook?

Just like last years midterm report (remember last year? Oh Stephanie! Money is funnies, sister) I've dredged the chefs "exclusive Q & As" and personal playlists to better gauge their personalities and overall worth. It's crazy superficial, but...so is the show.

(Why are so many chefs into Bob Marley? Is that what's hot in the kitchen? "Get high, make scallops!")

LAUREN (sent back on the boat, ep. 1)



AMUSED DOUCHE: The unquestionable loseringest loser in the history of Top Chef, Lauren became the first chef ever eliminated in a Quickfire Challenge.

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: Instantly Lauren reconnected with culinary school chum Patrick. So cute! So foreshadowing!

YOU NEED MORE BACON: Those two were so sympatico that they ended up on the bottom of the Quickfire after making salads. Salads? Top chefs don't make what I make!

GET HIGH, MAKE SCALLOPS: Each playlist is accompanied by the chefs feelings on the song, and on Lauren's, the words "My husband" start off sentences six times. He's serving in the military, so of course he's on her mind. Oh look, "Don't Stop Believin'", I'd like to thank The Sopranos for making Journey cool again. I'd also like to thank The Sopranos for going off the air. I hope you took this country's obsession with the Mafia to hell with you. A Daniel Bedingfield song? You may think I like Dan and his singin' sis 'cause our last names are so similar. You may think the phrase "meteoric rise" makes sense.

PATRICK (sent back to school, ep. 1)




AMUSED DOUCHE: The youngest hopeful at 21, and still a culinary student, Patrick was doomed to be cute, gay, and out of his element.

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: I instantly took to Patrick because he shares a given name with my closest friend, also a TC fan. I instinctively knew, then, that he could not last. Way to fuck up noodles, chief. His departure also marked the first blow to a house clique, the legendary Team Rainbow, comprised of queer chefs Patrick, Jamie, and Richard. We'll never forget you, Indigo! Shine on!

GET HIGH, MAKE SCALLOPS: He loves him some singin' bitches! What a bottom.

JILL (head in the sand ep. 3)



AMUSED DOUCHE: Represented Charm City. Now I'll cough awkwardly.
WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: Now I'll blow out an overexaggerated sigh, and throw in a dramatic eyeroll to show you how "over it" I am.

YOU NEED MORE BACON: Took a bold chance by throwing together "ostrich-egg quiche", but brazenness in the kitchen is not rewarded if you don't know what you're doing. Jill's "defense of the dish" was painful to witness, a pause-ridden disaster that would have made a monk impatient.

GET HIGH, MAKE SCALLOPS: Jill's funny. A Simpsons fan. Loves Oh, The Places You'll Go. ("Will you succeed? No indeed. The sound of your voice makes my ears bleed.) And her enjoyment of "Shimmy Shimmy Ya" is great: "'Baby I like it raw'--I make lots of sushi." Yeah Jill, sweetie--it's a song about ass fucking.

RICHARD (so long Violet, ep. 3)



AMUSED DOUCHE: The "bear" of Team Rainbow, he shared a first name with Season 4 finalist Blais, but this Dick choked much earlier in the game.

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: His schoolboy lust of Tom Colicchio made for great editing (see, ep. 3, the Bo Derek slo-mo editing of "The Don" entering Kitchen Stadium, I mean, um, the dining area).

YOU NEED MORE BACON: Banana-choco smores sound tempting. Unless you put vanilla foam on top and the dish sets for awhile, so that by the time people are ready to eat them, it looks like a loogie bukkake took place.
GET HIGH, MAKE SCALLOPS: Gay guys love that "Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy", huh? Remember 1989? Remember when "Love Shack" ruled the gay clubs? What has happened to the taste level since? Gay men used to steal and claim much better hetero songs than that. "It's Raining Men", motherfuckers! "Save a Horse" is such a terrifying admixture of gunslinger hokum and depthless "appreciation" of hip hop culture that I abandon my post at work when it comes on the radio. Save a guitar, kill a hillbilly.

ALEX (off to get married, ep. 4)



AMUSED DOUCHE: Destined to be among the lower-tier chefs about who the viewers say, "When they're gone, then the show really gets good."

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: Faced with the prospect of showing off on Good Morning America, the chefs are asked to create a dish that can be prepared and served in two-and-a-half minutes. Alex, disgusted by the simplicity around him, decides to bust out creme brulee.
YOU NEED MORE BACON: The renegade in Alex blinded him to the logistics of creme brulee under time restraints. His dish hadn't even set when the clock struck "your hat makes you look like a 1920s cabbie". Dude kept talking about his impending nuptials, and how his heart wasn't totally into the competition. How annoying. If you're not going to throw yourself 100% behind the ridiculous spectacle of a reality show that could possibly boost your career--don't audition.

GET HIGH, MAKE SCALLOPS: Alex loves Sportscenter. Prob'ly he thinks Stuart Scott is the last American poet. "Yeah, holla at a playa when you see him on the street!" He also likes the last good song the Beastie Boys ever did, "Intergalactic", because "it references the marathon!" Wowzee! Reminds me of white-ass Eminem fans who go cuckoo-caca over the fact "he rhymes all those syllables!" Yeah, it's called compound rhyming and Kool G Rap was doing it back when your boy was getting listless headjobs from trailer trash mamas.

DANNY (sent to the showers, ep. 5)



AMUSED DOUCHE: Filled the over-sized mold for "New York goombah", much like Season 3's Joey. Overweight, blustery, and possessed of a middling talent.

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: At first, his gregariousness was refreshing. But then the show began airing more episodes, see.

YOU NEED MORE BACON: Danny has some football story that explains why his facial hair looks like an ex-girlfriends farewell revenge. Then he starts flipping off his peers because he doesn't see why eating a sandwich with no napkin and leaving crumbs everywhere is unsanitary. He interviews that Jamie is on the rag because she tries to tell him why he should try and act like a people. The horrid "GMA" episode revealed that young Daniel has a yearning to be like Bobby Flay. He beseeches the camera with hoary Howard Stern catchphrases ("Baba Booey!") and channels his inner Jeffrey Tambor with a belabored "Hey now!" Ugh. I wish he'd channeled the cross-dressing attorney Tambor once portrayed on Hill Street Blues.

But the real kill was Danny's utter inability to recognize when his food sucked. Never has an aspiring "Top Chef" so callously shunned the reliable opinions of the judging panel.

Tom: "Danny, your dishes were subpar at their very best. Honestly, I'd rather eat at Arbys."

Danny: "Well, I stand by my dish. Also, behind it. Firmly. I'm not gonna, like, throw myself unda da buss. (sings) Two plus two is fouuur! Two plus two is fouuur!"

Tom: "I can see why homicide is so popular!"

GET HIGH, MAKE SCALLOPS: The themes to World of Warcraft and Ghostbusters and "Kokomo"? I just got the douche chills.

EUGENE (one of two chefs sent home, ep. 7)



AMUSED DOUCHE: Tattooed everywhere, probably including genitalia; fond of wifebeaters, all the better to show off said "artwork"; never attended culinary school; bald. He had the Bravo producers at "Hi, bitches!"

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: In the first Elimination Challenge, Eugene was forced to prepare an ethnic food he'd never even tasted before--Indian. Flying by the seat of his pants, he stumbled into a classic Indian yogurt and rice dish that he prepared exquisitely.

YOU NEED MORE BACON: And then Sisyphus got crushed. Eugene just turned out to be another Danny: marginally skilled, mammothly prickish. He operated under the sad assumption that the judges weren't adequately forward-thinking to appreciate his daring flavor combinations. But, one man's ignorance is one woman's bliss: if the great female chefs of the world ever formed like Voltron, Michelle Bernstein would be the cunt.

GET HIGH, MAKE SCALLOPS: "Hate It or Love It" is by the Game, not 50 Cent. Curtis merely wrote and performed the hook. Last season, Mark made a similar boo-boo on his playlist.

MELISSA (left with Eugene, ep. 7)



AMUSED DOUCHE: Maryland native with striking blonde bangs that look rather like rake tines hanging down her forehead.

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: I can't recall one thing she cooked that didn't make a smirk crease my blotchy face, but she did try and sabotage Alex at the Judges Table by insinuating that he didn't really want to be in the competition, while she, the Great Rake-Banged Warrior, would slaughter the developing denizens of entire daycare dungeons to stay on and fight!

YOU NEED MORE BACON: And talent. And personality.

GET HIGH, MAKE SCALLOPS: Well, Beatles and Talking Heads fandom bodes well for anyone. But then she reveals her favorite book is On the Road. Bleurgh. I guess one could say that Melissa cooked like Kerouac wrote.

LEAH







AMUSED DOUCHE: Inconsistent chef who positively pales in comparison to Season 3's Lia. Ah, Lia. Isis in a chef jacket, that one. Magnificent smile, gorgeous eyes, wild brunette locks screaming out to be lovingly pulled--but we must move on.

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: She's a good barometer of this season. Sometimes real good, other times real garbage.

YOU NEED MORE BACON: One half of the cringeworthy "showmance" with Hosea. While both admit to having significant others back home while they battle it out for fame, glory, and money, that does not stop them from aggressive flirtations. It all reminds me of that Seinfeld "schmoopie" shit. Where's Jenn Biesty to Olympic toss some metal chairs when you need her?

GET HIGH, MAKE SCALLOPS: I wonder if Jack Johnson helps ease the humiliation of getting owned by Colicchio in the stew room.

RADHIKA



AMUSED DOUCHE: Rhymes with "Attica". An Indian chef, but don't pigeonhole her!

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: Her sweet personality (and the fact she hates Stefan) makes her easy to root for, but she ain't no Stephanie. None of these women are a Stephanie. A Casey, maybe.

YOU NEED MORE BACON: Another teeth-grindingly inconsistent chef. She's won two Quickfires, and immediately after each she shits the bed in the Elimination Challenge. Furthermore, her last ruination of the nighttime sanctuary gave uber-douche Toby Young the opportunity to unleash that WMD quip he'd been honing for a few weeks.

GET HIGH, MAKE SCALLOPS: Lenny Kravitz? How is you gangsta?

JEFF




AMUSED DOUCHE: Blonde bombshell who actually winks during the opening credits. (Anyone still get moist?) Owns the DiLido Club. Yes.

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: A natural leader with a Hung-like skillset and ego. He views Top Chef as a showcase for individual style, from presentation to palate, with the bravery to experiment whenever its prudent.

YOU NEED MORE BACON: He should be kicking ass, then, in his field of house, I mean, mediocrity. But the pieces aren't quite coming together as one amazing whole. He's likely one bold ingredient, one bolder style of preparation, away from really separating himself.

GET HIGH, MAKE SCALLOPS: Favorite book is To Kill a Mockingbird, which some still claim was ghostwritten by Truman Capote. C'mon. Even Danny knows that's bullshit.

All good Fugazi-engendered goodwill is wiped out by a 311 mention.

HOSEA



AMUSED DOUCHE: Bullet-head with annoying facial hair.

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: Has 2 EC wins. One came at the infamous AIDS benefit, which inspired Tom to visit the chefs in the stew room and implore them to start fucking cooking shit that tastes good, you witless assholes. GULP.

YOU NEED MORE BACON: See Leah.

GET HIGH, MAKE SCALLOPS: "Raining Blood" is the greatest metal song ever, Bullet Head. "One" isn't even the best song on And Justice For All.

FABIO



AMUSED DOUCHE: Fan-friendly Italian chef who is probably exaggerating the accent.

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: I'll give him credit for "spherical olives" prepared so that they have the consistency of eggs: hard on the outside, soft on the inside. That's the only food so far this year that made me go "Wow, I'd like to eat that. That is some thinking outside the rhombus nonsense right there."

YOU NEED MORE BACON: Along with Stefan, comprises the "Euro Duo", each man intent on bieng the first non-native Top Chef. They bond over soccer, food, and Euro kissing. I dislike jingoism among my fellow Americans, why would I think any differently when two "fresh out the boat" people do likewise?

CARLA



AMUSED DOUCHE: DC-based caterer with hair like Beaker and a 200-watt personality. The oldest chef, at 44.

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: Usually chefs who skate by much like Carla has would be met with scorn by the TC fanbase. But how many chefs get cooking tips from spirit guides, have special calls with their spouses in case they lose each other in a public place, and give the best defense (honest, spirited, humble) of a bad dish by anyone facing elimination?

YOU NEED MORE BACON: She's fantastic to listen to, but she ain't built for this.

GET HIGH, MAKE SCALLOPS: Patrick's like, "Who does that 'Money' song? The, 'Money money moooney'?"

Me: "The O'Jays."

Patrick: "Did they ever do any other songs?"

Me: "Yeah man, 'Love Train', 'Backstabbers'..."

Patrick: "Oh man, you mean they did good songs too? I was really hoping it would have been some one-hit wonder group. I hate that song!"

ARIANE



AMUSED DOUCHE: 41-year-old Jersey cougar mom (and Nora Roberts fan) out to prove she can kick young tail.

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: Has two wins, one for perfectly appealing to a target group that just so happened to be her peers, and the other for knowing how to properly cook meat. Each season I am astonished by how many chefs undercook meat and/or don't know how to utilize seasoning. Well, every season but this one. They're still fucking up obvious things left right and center, of course, but the massive mound of cocaine I snort before each episode really takes the edge off.

(Note: Blogger does not actually use coke. Blogger in fact does not even take aspirin.)

YOU NEED MORE BACON: Padma spit out Ariane's dessert in the second EC--and yet Ariane stayed. This has caused Danny, Jill, Gene, and Melissa--in exit interviews only--to question her continued presence on the show and (in Gene's case) to accuse producers of "rigging" the results. How quickly we forget that in the "GMA" episode, there were two more instances of judges spitting out food: Tom with Melissa's hell-hot shrimp, and Kathie Lee Gifford with whatever the hell Jeff made.

GET HIGH, MAKE SCALLOPS: Natasha Bedingfield. Or is it Benningfield? Fuck you!

JAMIE



AMUSED DOUCHE: Ballsy and competent, this blonde lesbian with the colorful arms is the only woman left who stands a chance of making it back-to-back bitches in the winners circle.

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: For the first half of the season, the eternal bridesmaid. Girl cooked her ass off and just couldn't get a break. No immunity, no cookbooks. But she hung in there, and last week earned an EC win for scallops.

YOU NEED MORE BACON: Scallops scallops scallops! Lee Anne Wong is gonna shoot the next fuckin' chef that looks at a fuckin' scallop, you understand? To quote Fabio: "This is Top Chef, not Top Scallop!" Usually Fabio's overwrought grandmother-evoking interviews make my eyes disappear, but this time he pretty much nailed it. Maybe we can see some more out of the Little Lesbian That Could now that she's actually won something.

GET HIGH, MAKE SCALLOPS: Fandom of Feist and the Gossip don't surprise me one bet. She's gonna get the pussy pass revoked for no Sleater-Kinney mention, though. And I love that she hates on the popularity of "Don't Stop Believin'" and says "Only the Young" is better. 'Cause it is. Like second-best Journey song ever.

She also loves AbFab. Dye your hair, get some laser surgery, and holla at a girl.

STEFAN



AMUSED DOUCHE: Did Vince McMahon have a hand in casting? "You know what this show needs? A villain from another country! Anyone hear remember Muhammad Hassan? The Muslim wrestler we had on a few years ago? He was Italian! I mean you could take somebody from Florida with a real good tan and have 'em be..."

"Actually, we were thinking Nordic."

"Why work out when you have steroids?"

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: A Finnish chef who spent much of his formative years in Germany. Winner of the first EC challenge, Stefan is passionate, brusque, bold, and confident. Made a creamy chicken pot pie dish that I really wanted to try.

YOU NEED MORE BACON: He's also a fuckin' knobhead who needs a few near-death experiences to level him out somewhat. He's a terror to work with, he married (and divorced) the same woman twice, and he shamelessly hits on a lesbian. Not to mention that whole fuckin' emulsion/vinaigrette thing (you need to get a life, arguing about that shit). If he wins, this is official worst season ever.

GET HIGH, MAKE SCALLOPS: Hahaha, he has "Don't Stop Believin", hahaha! You'll never win Jamie's heart. And do I see GNR's cover of "Live and Let Die"? I have always questioned Nordic musical tastes. To top it all off he's "too OCD" to read. Fick dich. This guy makes me wanna adopt Hung.

They Are the Champions

It's really actually rather Cooly McCool and the Cool Kids when you find a reality show that doesn't suck. It's further breezly brewin' when one of the contestants seems like a normal, levelheaded, talented person and you start to root for them. Then they win. Congratulations, Top Chef Stephanie Izard. Has any reality show winner managed to utter "holy shit" as many times as her? I don't think so. (Interesting tidbit here: Season 3 winner Hung was encouraged to try out for the show by Season 2 finalist Marcel. Stephanie was likewise persuaded to audition by her friend, Season 3 finalist Dale.)


Unsurprisingly, Alexander Ovechkin became the first NHL player to take home the Lester Pearson, Hart, Richard, and Art Ross trophies in one year. Okay, so the Richard hasn't been around that long, but don't try and diminish. That just makes you sound like a still-bitter Penguins fan. Oh my God, awards, must sweep.


Alexander Ovechkin Stephanie Izard Top Chef

Mediocre Reality Show Contestant vs. Blogosphere FITE

According to unlikely Top Chef finalist Lisa Fernandes, bloggers ain't shit but bitches and tricks.

You know, a show like Top Chef is strange to watch in that as viewers we can't taste what the contestants are presenting. That beef tenderloin looks awesome; those butterscotch scallops make me want a heaping helping of hospital food! Also, the human palate is a funny thing. How could anyone like wasabi and white chocolate? Yet on this season of Top Chef, that was a winning dish.

So the viewer has to go by what sounds good/bad, or looks good/bad, or ultimately what the judges tell us worked. Or did not. And that X factor...personality.

This is why there was such a stink raised among fans when Sam Talbot didn't make it to the finale. Because he's so freakin' hawt, why can't we keep looking at him? His dish couldn't have been that bad!

This is why Season 3 champ Hung Huynh was so hated despite being demonstrably the best chef of his class. He constantly bigged up his concoctions and degraded the work of his competitors. Also, his food may or may not have had a soul.

This is why Lisa Fernandes is arguably the most hated chef to ever compete on the show. She doesn't seem to wash her hair much; she has a pierced eyebrow; she is gay (yes, this still kinda bothers some people); she has difficulties working with her peers; she has a tendency to adopt a defensive posture and twist her face into a most unbecoming snarl whenever she is brought before the Judges Table for possible elimination; and oh yeah, she's been up for elimination in six consecutive episodes, including the first part of the finale, aired this week.

The Internet has spewed some insane vitriol towards her these past few weeks, some even accusing the shows producers of keeping Lisa around for the sake of either ratings or improving the odds of the first female Top Chef. This is all, of course, bullhonkey. Lisa is still on because, week after week, someone else has managed to suck just a little more.

I myself had no particular problem with Fernandes. Then I read that goddamn interview.

Oh no, I don't read the blogs – you couldn't pay me to read the blogs. I don't want to know what people who can't even afford to eat in my restaurant, let alone know how to cook have to say about me....

This is amazing. She could have handled the reality of her less-than-stellar online reputation with humor and aplomb, instead she goes the woefully predictable route of "bloggers are pathetic basement-dwelling nerds". Her statement is arrogant, wrongheaded, presumptuous, and should be insulting to anyone who maintains a blog as part of their everyday life.

Lisa Fernandes Top Chef

Top Chef Chicago: The Midterm Report

Yes, it's that time again. Hands up, utensils down! No, wait...scratch that...reverse. With Season 4 of Top Chef now at the halfway point, it's only right that I take some time to go over what and who has been. This season, however, there's a little something extra: playlists submitted by the competing chefs. Operating as I do under the belief that a person's musical tastes is 30% of their personal worth, it's only fair to consider the songs that these yen-ta-bes crank for inspiration when evaluating if they got kicked off too soon, should already be gone, or will make it the distance.



NIMMA (sent home in Ep. 1)





AMUSED DOUCHE: The only black contestant of the new season, Nimma came from a hermetic Muslim family. She has something to prove, then. Just like last season's Clay, her father is evoked quite a bit. Hmm.



WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: While Nimma may balk at the allegedly old-fashioned methods of child-rearing adopted by her folks, it's clear that single-minded, near-distrustful reticence runs in the family. She eschews the wonders of the pool table and couched small talk for focus and sleep. "I'm not here to make friends", she tells the audience.



YOU NEED MORE BACON: Nor was Nimma there to make edible food. After blowing the Quickfire to hell and daring to serve Bourdain the God a plate of supremely over-salted shrimp, Nimma was sent packing, to retreat back into a world of silent disapproval, suffocating overprotection, and persistent overcompensation.



ONE MORE CHANCE: I can't fully co-sign the early dismissal of anyone who puts "Rock Lobster" on their playlist. Even if they do commit the sin of sloppy shrimp.



LONG KISS GOODNIGHT: The appearance of LL Cool J's "Doin' It" is followed by, "One word...aroused." Uh. Not at all. No. "Chewin' it, oohin' it, all while we're doin' it"? Look, I'm down with the doing of it. The oohing of it also is agreeable. But chewing it? Chewing what? That's probably second to "When will I die?" for questions I simultaneously desperately want answered but desperately don't want answered, if you catch the breeze.



VALERIE (Debbie Downer'ed in Ep. 2)



AMUSED DOUCHE: Valerie was one of a handful of Chicago chefs to join the fray.



WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: To some, facial resemblance to Rachel Dratch is undesirable, maybe even off-putting. Admittedly, it's not as good as looking like Dratch's buddy Tina Fey. But damnit, Dratch is almost as funny, and isn't that what matters?



YOU NEED MORE BACON: Despite proclamations of "upscale" proficiency, Val came across in her limited stay as outmatched and overwhelmed when it came to both tiers of the "game": in her final challenge, she made blinis, a food she was unable to pronounce correctly, much less make to satisfaction. In tight competition with Nikki's koala-droppings (I mean,mushrooms) the savvier Antonia threw Valerie smack into the grill of a Greyhound at the Judges Table. You gotta know when to hold 'em, know when to scold 'em, Valerie.



ONE MORE CHANCE: A list of favorite songs that includes "Southern Cross" (one of the great overlooked songs of the past 35 years) and "Roam" suggests someone with a bit more gumption than was displayed over 90 heavily-edited minutes of television.



LONG KISS GOODNIGHT: Hey...that means the two chefs who included B-52s songs on their playlists were auf'ed first. How the hell could Andy Cohen let that happen?!



ERIK (imposed his way out in Ep. 3)





AMUSED DOUCHE: San Fran-based badass who has parlayed a lackluster showing on a TV show into a burgeoning business for custom-designed "tattooed" chef coats. Probably had his life changed the first time he heard Motley Crue, they let him know that there was a place for the freaks like him, dude.



WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: Reminded me of last season's "Bruno Boy" Joey--gruff personality masking a heart sweet as a candy apple. Cooking skills? Maybe.



YOU NEED MORE BACON: Erik knew his corn dogs would get soggy whilst in transport to the block party, yet must have figured that someone else's dish would be shittier, or the soft pups would shine regardless thanks to their creators own innate awesome bursting through in every bite. Either way...loser. Erik also thinks Mexican food is "for the street people" and could not in any way constitute "fine dining". As someone who has found high-end Mexican food even in her back-asswards hometown, let me say: Erik, yaya tome una mierda.



ONE MORE CHANCE: Lost his virginity to "The Tide is High". "I'm gonna be your nuuuumber one."



LONG KISS GOODNIGHT: Points for Slayer, but not for spelling it "Rain In Blood". The song is "Raining Blood" and the album is Reign in Blood. Remember that "you don't have to understand your music in order to enjoy it?" commercial that ran not not too long ago? That always pissed me off.



MANUEL (kicked off in Ep. 4)





AMUSED DOUCHE: Quintessentially non-descript ethnic chef.



WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: Well, he never pissed me off as I sat at home peering at the succession of images flickering across my flat screen. He never hauled off and called someone 5 pounds of horseshit in a 3 pound sack (either to their face or behind their back), nor did he try to sabotage another competitor.



YOU NEED MORE BACON: So what did the man people call "Memo" do? Basically, nothing, hence the ease with which the judges (in conjunction with the shows producers, don't kid yourself on that for a second) sent him shuffling off to Fukifino in a challenge wherein partner/leader/possessor of (repugnant) personality Spike should have been knifed.



ONE MORE CHANCE: Black Flag, aw, that's cool.



LONG KISS GOODNIGHT: Manuel is one of those who glean awesome epiphanies from Incubus songs: "We are all human". Fucking hell, we are! The discography of Dashboard Confessional is the new astrological chart for the crestfallen young, oh you ain't know?



ZOI (wrenched from her love in Ep. 5)





AMUSED DOUCHE: Not only was Zoi (like "Bowie") picked to compete this season, so was her equally cheffy girlfriend Jennifer. Dramas!



WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: Part-Greek, confident, outspoken, and attractive. What's not to at least admire from a distance?



YOU NEED MORE BACON: Zoi's dishes all seemed very confused; she was repeatedly called out of improper seasoning (the seeming bane of head judge Tom Colicchio). Further, she took criticism as well as you or I would take a rectal thermometer reading. Will break Jenn's heart one day, as she was never once shown bigging-up her girl's prowess in the kitchen, while every other interview segment with Jenn featured much waxing on Zoi's fabulous (if imperceptible) culinary skills.



ONE MORE CHANCE: Amazingly, Zoi's playlist is the only one that does not contain a single distasteful song.



LONG KISS GOODNIGHT: So she should have been Top Chef.



RYAN (took the metro home in Ep. 6)





AMUSED DOUCHE: Self-avowed "metrosexual" whose parents forced him into the family business at either age 8 or age 11, depending on what fabrication Ryan chooses to spin at the time.



WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: The closest thing to an attractive male chef this season, but even then only at certain angles and without that goddamn pen over his ear. Responsible for one of the greatest moments of television in 2008: in the kitchen, trying to figure out what the name of "that Christmas movie where the kid shoots his eye out" was called.



YOU NEED MORE BACON: Ryan was until just very recently a chef at San Francisco's Myth Cafe where among the illusions whipped up on a daily basis was that Ryan could cook. When you're called out by Rocco DiSpirito for being a little slow, it's over for you.



ONE MORE CHANCE: CCR is good, but that's all.



LONG KISS GOODNIGHT: Maroon 5? Fergie? Have I gone into what I think about Fergie? Do you know that said woman is a creature so treacherously repulsive, so utterly devoid of redeeming qualities, that not even a resume that includes voice acting for two Peanuts specials can save her? Do you dare consider someone so horrendously untalented and cloying that it retroactively eliminates any goodwill they may have engendered by voicing a Peanuts kid? It's a dark night of the soul, I tell you what.



JENNIFER (off to join Zoi, ep. 7)





AMUSED DOUCHE: AKA, "The Beast" (her last name is Biesty). Zoi's better half in almost every conceivable manner. Also, her hair is like a shark's fin.



WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: Jenn was just starting to strut and stroll in the kitchen (Quickfire win and impressive showing in the Elimination Challenge) when she teamed up with the previously-unfuckwitable Stephanie in an ill-advised attempt at erectile cuisine. Stay in your lane, Jenn.



YOU NEED MORE BACON: After Zoi got the kibosh, Jenn was infused with renewed sense of purpose. Notre Dame did it for the Gipper, Billy did it for McGarnigle, and Jenn did it for Zoi.



ONE MORE CHANCE: First Notorious B.I.G. drop by a chef, for "Juicy". Also, Elton John is always winning.



LONG KISS GOODNIGHT: I'm not gonna start on "Maps". All I'll say is when you write a love song for your significant other, then they become the something-other, it takes a lot of gall to dedicate said song in concert to the new dude you're schnutzing.



MARK (the latest castoff in eppy 8)





AMUSED DOUCHE: New Zealander who everyone thought was Australian. Don't know if that's a mortal sin (mistaking an Englishman for Irish) or just venal (mistaking an American for a Canadian).



WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: One of the most perplexingly non-interesting personalities to this viewer, all I can say is that Mark at least had the self-confidence and lack of shame to bathe with a man.



YOU NEED MORE BACON: Rude as hell to the fine helpful folks at Farmers Market and Whole Foods. Good manners cost nowt, mate. Also, the man he bathed with...Spike. Ew.



ONE MORE CHANCE: "Hey Ya" is still a quality song, I don't care how oversaturated it became.



LONG KISS GOODNIGHT: Couple issues here: "Pour Some Sugar On Me" is one of the the rare 1980s missteps made my pop-rock gods Def Leppard; and "Forgot About Dre" is by Dr. Dre featuring Eminem, although Em did write all the lyrics, so maybe Mark was being very literal. Anyway, get off my screen, thank you.



NIKKI







AMUSED DOUCHE: How is she here? Possible Sara M. of Season 4, but lacking the cheesemaker's endearingly blithe attitude.



WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: Okay, I have something for this, wait a second...she likes animals! Probably more than kids! And that my friends, is a positive mark on any checklist.



YOU NEED MORE BACON: On occasion this season Nikki has rocked a big blowout Amy Winehouse 'do (all the better to store your drugs with, my dear). Actually ran out of food for the Judges at the Tailgating challenge and unbelievably skated by. Methinks Nikki has some pro photos of Andy Cohen in a comprising position with a woman.



ONE MORE CHANCE/LONG KISS GOODNIGHT: The only chef from this season to not submit a playlist. She lasts two more eps, tops.



LISA





AMUSED DOUCHE: Relocated to NY from Toronto. The raging epicenter of negativity in the Top Chef household.



WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: Has one win under her belt...for bacon. Miso smoked bacon. I say that to say this: gimme some.



YOU NEED MORE BACON: Lisa's hygiene is way reproachable. Dirty like Pete Doherty and surly like a Gallagher brother to boot. In one breath she wins my heart by saying Dale "can go fuck himself" then almost immediately squeezes it into a gelatinous pulp by acting superior to not only the challenges she is ordered to perform but also the judges she is supposed to impress. By far the most despised female chef left, and maybe even ahead of Spike for the overall dishonor, the cheers that meet her elimination will shake a desolate Air Canada Centre to its foundations.



ONE MORE CHANCE/LONG KISS GOODNIGHT: Bland, like her beans. Gone next episode.



SPIKE





AMUSED DOUCHE: Behatted, catty, and spotty. Real first name is Evangelos, and he adamantly refuses to reveal the origins of his sobriquet. Possibly his siblings named him "Spike" after the dog they always wanted (instead of a little brother).



WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: There is nothing, absolutely squat-all, I like about Spike. "Dregs with legs", I call him with a sneer. Nope, I don't even get the warm fuzzies from transferred thoughts of Snoopy's cactus-hugging brother.



YOU NEED MORE BACON: Per Bravo editing, the only chef to share misgivings over the Zoi/Jenn "storyline". His cruelty towards Jenn after Zoi's exit ("You can go and cry all night") and his bitterness after her subsequent Quickfire win ("Yay, lesbians!") earned him my eternal enmity.



ONE MORE CHANCE: None. He's a white guy who obsesses on Bob Marley, need I say more?



LONG KISS GOODNIGHT: Weed and reggae...making white people think they can dance since time immemorial!



ANTONIA

AMUSED DOUCHE: Winner of last week's Quickfire and Elimination Challenges (just a mere episode removed from joining with Lisa to suffuse the Judges Table with the foul aroma of "arrogant cunt"), Antonia also got a feel-good plotline: she's the single mom of a young daughter that she likes to call up and tell dreadful knock-knock jokes to. And oh yeah, the challenge involved children! Sniffle!

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: Could be the first female Top Chef. Chops for days.



YOU NEED MORE BACON: But I don't want her to be the first female Top Chef. She basically played Darth Vader to Valerie's Admiral Ozzel in the second episode (while anointing Stephanie Admiral Piett), telling the judges she would eliminate Valerie despite not having tasted her dish.



ONE MORE CHANCE: Second chef to put Biggie on their list, this time the song is "Rise", I mean, "Hypnotize".



LONG KISS GOODNIGHT: I call for Bravo producers to institute a new rule, effective next season, that disqualifies any potential "cheftestant" that shows a tendency to enjoy the songs of Fergie. To make up for this admitted discriminatory policy, invite Fergie to be a guest judge on Step It Up and Dance. (The commercial will go as such: montage of last weeks action followed by a contestant voice-over saying, "And we look and oh (bleep), I can't believe who it is!" Harshly edited dance clips follow, then we see the unblemished-to-the-point-of-reflective face of a highstepping hopeful looking pensive as another, possibly out-of-context voice-over screeches, "Oh my God, where did that puddle come from?")



DALE

AMUSED DOUCHE: Has the name and nickname of two of last seasons top 3 finalists. Also, just like "Asshole" Hung, is of Asian descent. After a rocky start, Dale's wowed everyone from Daniel Bouloud to Refrigerator Perry with daring flavor combinations, focused techniques, and exceptional plating style.

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: No matter how loudly he insists on sphincter-hood, Dale is in reality not that bad at all. (Same as Hung, actually.) Sure he had that profanity-splotched, crotch-palming tirade once, but it was against Lisa, the woman who could have made Gandhi spit in her face.

YOU NEED MORE BACON: That temper, however, will prove lethal. I have Lisa going out in the upcoming Wedding Wars episode, but it could be her nemesis: previews show Dale punching an appliance. If he can make it beyond next week without being thrown off for putting Lisa in a full Nelson and forcing shampoo onto her hair, he's top 3 material.



ONE MORE CHANCE: The third, and final, Big Poppa lover.



LONG KISS GOODNIGHT: Says "Juicy" has "great production". Yeah, Trackmasters were geniuses to completely jack "Juicy Fruit" by Mtume and resequence it. Fucking brilliant.



ANDREW



AMUSED DOUCHE: High on life and coke, this foul-mouthed Tigger wants to make food "that impacts your soul". He needs some impacted wisdom teeth, really.



WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: Has tamed considerably in the last few weeks.



YOU NEED MORE BACON: In addition to spirit impact, Andrew's into making people "culinarily crap their pants". Certain challenges give him "a culinary boner". Off my screen, you pest.



ONE MORE CHANCE: Oh no. See, now's when I'm gonna have to vomit. I was hoping it wouldn't get to this. Among Andrew's favorite music is Gang Starr, El-P, One Be Lo, Apathy, Cage and Cannibal Ox. Who all kick ass. Goddamnit. Andrew prob'ly has a Def Jux poster in his bathroom. I'm sensing top 4 here.



LONG KISS GOODNIGHT: Ignoring, as is always recommended, the three Tool songs, the heavy presence of hip hop makes his tendency to appropriate "urban slang" understandable if no less irritating.



STEPHANIE

AMUSED DOUCHE: Chicago-by-way-of-Connecticut, Stephanie was recommended to producers by Season 3 sensation Dale.



WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: Two early EC wins and a string of episodes where all she did was place high, only to see Lisa get a trip to Paris for putting whipped cream on a flounder, or something.



YOU NEED MORE BACON: After two straight laps swum with the catfish, the self-confessed bundle of nerves must now seek calming counsel from mentor Yoda: "Peanut butter is good, yes. Tomatos make, you can. Together...meant to be they are not."



ONE MORE CHANCE: That's it...bitch has a Velvet Underground song on there. She wins not only Top Chef 4, but also life. Thanks for playing, everybody.



LONG KISS GOODNIGHT: "It's Cold Outside"? Are you in fact for serious? What's worse than sitting back sipping some hot chocolate, vibing out to the chilled Christmas tunes wafting from the stereo, and then that song comes on. I don't want any type innuendo in my Christmas songs.



RICHARD

AMUSED DOUCHE: Isn't he though? Cut from the Marcel mold, more concerned with the science of "molecular gastronomy" than how food actually tastes.



WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: Likely the best chef of this go-round, the one everyone else fears head-to-head but wants on their team, preferably leading the charge.



YOU NEED MORE BACON: He has a goddamn fauxhawk. Refers to himself as "witty" rather than just give examples. That dumbass cameraman who laughed at Richard's weaksauce Seinfeld impression has possibly ruined the season. Possibly.



ONE MORE CHANCE: Loves Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (as also shown in the Movie Challenge, where we learned "pure imagination" equals a dish combining white chocolate and wasabi). Went to high school with Busta Rhymes.



LONG KISS GOODNIGHT: Arctic Monkeys, huh? Well, no one's perfect. Even if they are going to win Top Chef this year. Yes, I'm calling it. Don't believe the (female chef) hype.



Top Chef

I'm Doing WHAT For the Top Chef 3 Finale?

Inner conversations are enlightening so long as brevity is the rule.

"Now with a lot of this crap out of the way, I can get back to the blog."

"Great. You should live blog the Top Chef finale."

"Er? Nah. I don't live blog. This isn't a political debate, it's a reality show."

"I read somewhere it's great exercise of sorts for the blogger looking to either get back into or get into the blogging experience. Just please don't make it a habit."

I can't imagine being the person who live blogs regularly. Award shows, sports events, political wheezefests...it's typing, not writing, and I still like to operate under the possible delusion that what I put up here on Trapper Jenn is quality writing. More often than not. So I may suck at this.

10:00 PM Oh shit, it's an audience. I thought we wouldn't have to deal with clappers till after the episode. For those unaware, the winner of this season will be announced live. I hope Hung loses and throws a chair bigger than himself at the ground.

10:01 God I hope Andy Cohen isn't at the reveal/reunion. I know, it's foolish to anticipate the Bravo honcho being anywhere else, but I seriously cannot stand him.

10:02 Chefs are getting ready in the bathroom. Casey is breathless and Hung is shirtless. How many viewers want it the other way around?

10:04 Casey still can't breathe. Stupid altitude.

10:05 Picking from the proteins/produce table, the chefs taste several items. Hung lamentably has not bitten into a Scotch Bonnet. Nice call on cooking duck, asshole. Ducks are for enjoying and taking pictures of, not eating. Way to confirm once and for all your utter lack of soul. Dale is mad 'cause the other two are doing prawns, kthx.

10:08 Holy shit, Rocco DiSpirito is Hung's sous chef. That motherfucker just walked out like a vision in white with an ego the size of a whale glowing from his magnificent chefly form. The greatest testament to the beauty of Aspen is that you could not even make out one bit of evidence re: the endless injections his face has undergone. Casey gets Michelle Bernstein and Dale, Todd English. Great twist. Interesting that Hung seems to think of the season, the bottom chefs were Micah, Clay and Howie. I would say he's not far off. At least none of them made placenta pesto like your boy Tre!

10:15 Oh the reunion is next week. "Chefs Gone Wild". Which means only one thing: Howie and Joey canoodling like two platypuses in love.

10:17 Rocco understands that Hung has a flavor.

10:19 Cameraman in the shot! Check for it on any of the 34 times this episode will be run this month. All those speedy knives...did I ever tell you about the time I sliced my left thumb on a meat slicer? Yeah, when I worked at the Woodpoint Bar and Grill. That's what happens when one places finishing the job at hand because you have a ride waiting outside on a higher priority than safety and common sense. That's such a key thing to know about a person, if they have physical scars, how many, and the backstories. Nose scar tales are almost always the best ones.

10:24 Reserving any and all judgments until I see the dishes. Though, the pork belly (Casey) and duck (Hung) might be the downfall of either.

10:26 Hung's bullshit translated into earth-people talk: "I really didn't even think about my artistically brilliant food having soul until the judges kept bringing it up. So now, I have decided to always mention it in hopes that I can convince someone that I actually make love to the food, not just fuck it."

10:28 Whenever I hear Hung talk about "soul", I save my sanity by hearing Lisa in the "Bart Sells His Soul" episode of The Simpsons. Then I imagine he gets hit in the head with a hot buttered roll. Sweet.

10:30 Fourth course? Bravo is in fact the evil. Oh shit, it's Sous Chefs! Oh my God, Howie! CJ! Hung cannot get Sara, they might actually work well together. SHIT! Casey is going to lose, she got SweatBull! CJ is going to put his fake ball in Hung's food! I love it!

10:32 Sara is the Queen. A Jamaican who looks like she's from India and talks like she's from Ireland. Unfortunately, I think she'll do her best for Hung. Although the last time she tried to do a dessert, in episode 4...dude. Oh, and there was the SS Caterus. Dude, if Hung loses off of Sara fucking up, she's up there with Lia in my heart forever. BFF, motherfuckers.

10:35 Casey is going as insane as you would expect someone to be when 100 grand is on the line and they are depending on Howie "Forgot to plate for Jesus at the Last Supper" Kleinberg. Love it. Shoulda rubbed his shiny dome for good luck, Casey!

10:37 It has hit me that Casey is fucked and I'm loving it. Sandbag this, ya pissy bitch! Ah, NYPD Blue. Remember that show? Hill Street Blues' recalcitrant nephew? It's getting more than 2 seasons out on DVD, why not the superior program that fathered its whole steezo? Fox Media can eat Tre's placenta pesto. Sara's Chicken ala King, even. Get Smart isn't in stores either. All sorts of injustices. Which I hope isn't tonight's theme.

10:41 Hey, Brian, not where you expected to be huh? Ha. They are dishing to an elite table outdoors. Dale's foie grase mousse looks eh, Casey's cinnamon scented scallop has foie grase apple going for it too and looks great. Hung's fish and chips is no doubt tastier than it looks. Ah, the judges agree. Fuck, live blogging those dish names is annoying.

10:43 Hung's got shrimp and cucumber salad. Ah, you lost me when you threw that vegetable in, loser. Dale has seared scallop. Oh shit it's Casey's poached prawn with lobster shit thrown in there. Dale getting raves, and of course, it's a goddamn scallop. Padma bringing up acid? Way to pay attention to people who know far more than you throughout the season, babe!

10:46 Jesus, this is like endless soup and shrimp at Red Lobster. Oh oh, duck time. Dale has brought lobster, corn, mushrooms and gnocchi. Casey has roasted a peach with her pork belly. Hmm. I find that flavor combination promising.

10:47 Hung is getting fellated by the judges. Dale was told to pull his pants back up. Casey got groped then slapped.

10:48 Hung has busted out le choco cake. Dale has poached lamb with squash. See Hung with shrimp, dude. Casey has seared sirloin with potatos. All of this looks like you just want to slam your face down onto the plate and have multis. Are they seriously considering Brian's opinion at the table? Dude almost wept at the sight of a hot air balloon.

10:50 Tom throwing his hands up in the air after someone else concedes a point to him is great. He takes this shit for serious.

10:51 The new Devo song Bravo is using in its ads is called "Watch Us Work It" and it's a welcome return to New Traditionalists-era Spudgunnery. The drum pattern is pretty much the one on "The Super Thing", but to recycle awesomeness is less an indicator of laziness than lazy brilliance. Ruminate on that one.

10:55 Hung has gone on record as saying if he does not win, the show is confirmed as a "fraud." Hung is already confirmed as Napoleon reincarnated as a pygmy sous chef.

10:57 Judges table. Dale gets a largely positive review. Padma just slurred out "repertoire".

10:58 Casey, there were leeks! I swear on everything I hold holy, which is basically nothing, that there were leeks with that goddamn dish! Stop this cutesy, shucks, um, lemme-splain-suttin' act, Casey. You were nervous and Howie was the pot of coffee that your central nervous system did not need. Big mile smile here.

11:00 Gail is gonna make Hung cry. Do it, Gail! Twist the knife!

11:01 Fuck "modern", chocolate cake wins as dessert with every freaking meal imaginable. I could just see Hung pulling out mille feuille and getting dissed for going "easy French".

11:04 Dale had a little lamb...and yes, I did just want to reach into the TV and bring a plate of it out. Shit, now I'm thinking of the lamb in "Lisa the Vegetarian".

11:06 Oh shit, here come the chefs! "Yay" goes the audience. Hung is eating this up like it wasn't Dale's lobster, Dale is trying not to form a puddle, and Casey is going to cry because Howie Kleinberg still lives.

11:09 Hung for the win. How I loathe that talented son-of-a-wet-wood-wanderer. Padma slurs out his name, and here comes the family, and we see Hung's soul at last! Oh you did it, you arrogant ass! Smile through the tears! You're gonna make it after aaaaaaalllllll! Insufferable prick.

11:11 Please be Dale, please be Dale.

11:13 Casey, utter a pause-free sentence once, please.

11:14 Ah, they finally saw Hung in his food! I musta missed the refried dick he dished tonight.

11:15 Hung won. See 11:09. I'm glad I typed that out already so I can destroy windows with the delicacy, ability, and strength I know I am capable of.

11:16 Oh God, Marcel. The guy who makes Hung seem like St. Francis of Assisi. Yeah, that's what winning looks like, Logan.

WHEW. That was a hell of an end to the season. Hung earned it, no question. Sara Mair, though? She's cool, but...she can now never be Lia.

Top Chef

I Can't Believe This Year's Top Chef May Be a Woman Who Makes Love to Onions

Casey Thompson has pissed me off in so many special ways on this season of Top Chef: Miami. From haughtily explaining the amuse bouche to her suspicious knack for befriending superior competitors who are eliminated not long after their BFF status is established (two so far; one more and Casey's an FBI-certified serial killer!), from somehow managing to turn the spotlight onto herself when another chef is sent home ("The very talented and inspiring chef Lia is going home! Look at me, I'm so sad and yet somehow so pretty!"), to dropping ebonics in the kitchen and who can forget the relay race--


Add in her dual resemblances to Jennifer Aniston and Ann Coulter and, well, you have a reality show villain for the ages. The Subtly Annoying Bitch.

She has won two consecutive challenges now and been rewarded with a Macintosh laptop and two business class tickets to anywhere Continental Airlines flies. Whereas Sara Mair won the "Restaurant Wars" a few weeks back for leading a team that included a sweaty chef with a head fulla titanium and a hyperactive jerkass to victory while making what looked to a be a lovely halibut, and received a hearty "wow, you excelled without falling back on your specialty, cheese!". Actually, she didn't even receive that.

Casey is looking like (read: being edited to look like) one of the two finalists. This cannot stand. I am not obligated to root for a woman as Top Chef if she happens to rub me as a self-pitying attention whore who stumbled into some decent dishes recently. Neither of her wins have been decisive to this viewers mental palatte; dare I say, her most recent win for a veal and cauliflower airplane dinner was a flat-out affront. Hung's Chilean sea bass looked much more appetizing. And who the hell eats cauliflower on a plane?

And speaking of Hung...it's almost certain that he'll make it to the top 2. The entire season I have alternately loathed/tolerated this maddening little spark plug of self-ascribed awesomeness as he's performed under expectation yet always had the good fortune to be around other chefs who fucked it up even worse. The very real possibility of a Hung/Casey final means I may very well have to root for this douchesack. (Spell check be damned, that's one word in my book.)

All this angst towards the ascension of a woman who should have been gone 5 episodes into this season, when her Texas native self made undercooked chicken dressed with castor oil in a Latin food competition while a chef with no Latin experience made a merely "bland" trout-on-polenta dish and got sent home. I'm not going to accuse the Bravo network of rigging the competition, easy as it would be to do. Just how nice for their show to have its first-ever female champion. A female who looks like a Friend and thus appeals to a large segment of the viewership. Just sayin'.

Hung for the win, huh?



I am so with you, Lia.

Top Chef

Top Chef: Miami--The Midterm Report

The only reality show your semi-faithful blogger can be arsed to cast her assisted orbs upon is Top Chef: Miami. I have never watched a single episode of American Idol or Survivor. At any point. Ever. Oh, I'm always hip to the particular dramas and comedies of either show, thanks to our good buddy "cultural osmosis", but as far as experiencing these zeitgeist moments firsthand, I have not even a slightly twisted interest. All the shows of this stubborn genre have struck me as uselessly exploitative, lowest com-denom, misleading, and creepy. I can go to my annual family reunion for my proper fill of all that, thanks.

So why TC? The answer is simple and thus instantly comprehensible: it's about food. Not people singing Christina Aguilera ballads or engaging in a fierce tug-of-war for the right to wear a shark fin atop their head for the needed advantage in some contrived "challenge".

But leave it to good ol' Patrick...

One Friday afternoon, as we chilled villainous at his home, he switched the TV to the Bravo network. Before my eyes were a handful of folks dressed up in chef gear (well, minus the hats) standing before a table of judges. It seemed Patrick's mom got him hooked on Top Chef last week with the debut episode of the third season and he was desirous of catching the second episode, which he'd missed earlier in the week. My general unease over things in this life embraced and championed by Patrick's mother aside, I gave in. Luckily for all involved, this second episode involved a BBQ "challenge", wherein the 14 remaining chefs were required to russle up the yummy for some Miami snobs. In case you've forgotten, or never in fact knew, everyone is a winner when BBQ is involved. Well, everyone except the chef who got kicked off at the end of the ep.

The competition is now down to 7, with a new installment due this Wednesday, 10 PM Eastern. I have, much to the shock of any and all who have dutifully endured my circuitous rants against the phenomenon of reality-based entertainment and its concurrent ill-effects on the historically writer-friendly medium of television, been a devoted viewer. Honestly, I haven't been this emotionally invested in an hour of TV since the last season of Hill Street Blues, when I kept hoping for someone, anyone--even Goldblume--to blow Norman Buntz' goddamn head off.

Let's look at, first, the 8 who have come and gone from the Bravo kitchen.

CLAY (eliminated in ep. 1)



AMUSED DOUCHE: The Southern, aw shucks-type fucko with a back story that Flannery O'Connor rejected for her fiction as too weird: his pops was a chef who committed suicide when the pressures of the profession became much too much to bear.

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: Was incredibly funny, which of course meant he was doomed to never be taken even two ounces of serious by his competitors or us at home. Also quite a bit cute, no?

YOU NEED MORE BACON: Flat out, Clay had a chance to rep lovely for a region of the country, and a style of cooking, that is treated with chuckling derision by established foodies when they're being nice. He failed demonstrably. Hopefully, his out sized humor and graciousness will not depart from him and result in the unfortunate gutting of some poor soul who thought repeatedly referring to Clay as "Cletus" at Food Lion would be too freaking funny.

SANDEE (sent home in ep. 2)



AMUSED DOUCHE: Self-taught chef nearing 40 years of age. More to the point, a lesbian with a fauxhawk.

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: Gregarious personality and untrammelled creative urge in the kitchen makes for one chef that left way too early. Bravo, producers!

YOU NEED MORE BACON: Booted after the "high-end barbecue" challenge, when judges deemed her poached lobster "not barbecue". She put it on a grill, for Christ's sake. Meanwhile, Joey's decidedly non-high end drumstick and Howie's Sandpaper Meat Delight went unpunished.

MICAH (blessedly removed from our televisions on ep. 3)



AMUSED DOUCHE: Was from South Africa, then wasn't. This subterfuge rather blew up in a bitch face. Oh, and she so so missed being with her daughter, Matilda. It's so hard being a single mom with a nationality crisis.

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: Named her child after the British Bulldogs mascot...maybe! I like to think so, anyway.

YOU NEED MORE BACON: During the awesome "Family Favorites" challenge, Micah talked smack about America--the very country she pretended not to be from! Actually, all she did was introduce her reimagined meatloaf with the fateful words, "I know you Americans like to put ketchup on things" which caused judge Ted Allen's birdcage door to fly open with great fanfare and a flaming yellow canary came forth to announce to one and all that xenophobic meat towers aren't even worthy to double as poop in a forthcoming Pink Flamingos remake.

CAMILLE (gone for good in ep. 4)



AMUSED DOUCHE: A lot of viewers found her, uh, "hot."

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: Um...a female chef. I am contractually obligated by the presence of ovaries to support the women in this thing.

YOU NEED MORE BACON: Except she isn't really that hot, or that good of a chef. She earned her ouster via fucking up a pineapple dish, which Top Chef has taught me is the culinary equivalent of fucking up at suicide.

LIA (completely shafted in ep. 5)



AMUSED DOUCHE: Sous-chef at NY's famed Jean-Georges. Along with Tre, one of two chefs amid this year's crop actually approached by the TC producers to compete.

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: Delightfully cute, right down to the rosacea on her cheeks. When her "reinvention" in the Fam Faves challenge was judged to be craptacular, she salvaged all by venturing forth the now-legendary line, "I guess I just didn't understand the complexity of franks 'n beans." The judges laughed, and America swooned. Did I mention Lia is a former literature major? Fuck a Micah. Reading a Bazooka Joe comic gave her a headache.

YOU NEED MORE BACON: Lia was screwed over by all who conspire to keep those of us with less-than-porcelain skin off the airwaves. You heard me! Or read, rather. The clock struck "get the hell on" during the Latin Lunch challenge. Out of her element. the unflappable Lia valiantly put forth a trout polenta dish. Dubiously Latin, and apparently mushy, it should still have received a pass from the judges for not just giving up in the face of an unfamiliar style under a severe time limit. Especially considering that her BFF on the show, Casey, lives in fucking Texas and made a chicken and rice dish that was undercooked and decorated with some coffee/molasses "mole substitute" that looked like motor oil and per the judges, tasted even worse than that.

JOEY (freed in ep. 6)



AMUSED DOUCHE: Big fat Italian-American from New York. Nicknamed "Pickles". 'Cause he so obviously eats 90 of them daily. Cusses bunches.

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: Once invited Hung to kiss his New York-approved ass and then told Howie to man up after Joey told the judges he felt Howie should be eliminated at the barbecue challenge--despite not having tasted Howie's dish.

YOU NEED MORE BACON: A visit to his Myspace page reveals that he hates to read (unless it's cookbooks!) and he doesn't know how to put pictures up that are any larger than thumbnails. He doesn't grasp simple instructions delivered evenly and calmly very well, and will never live down the fact that he was the chef eliminated when Rocco Di-goddamn-Spirito was the guest judge.

SARA N. (made a stylish exit in ep. 7)



AMUSED DOUCHE: AKA, "the short, Asian Sara".

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: Way too nice and way too green with the colors still. I hope she continues to develop her kitchen skills while maintaining the sweetness that causes gay men to flock to her with Professor Higgins intentions.

YOU NEED MORE BACON: Episode 7 was a classic bait and switch by the producers: convinced that they were going to spend a late night partying in Miami, the chefs were instead deposited at adjoining roach coaches to prepare snacks for drunks. The three women remaining had no choice but to ply their trade in very unprofessional "night-out" clothes. Sara was the most immediately flustered of all the chefs over this chicanery, and she never recovered. While I feel for her disappointment (and the fact that she had to share a coach with Howie), she deserved her ticket back home for being a whiny pouty grumpy beeyotch who put ice in the milkshakes. I shit you never, this woman made milkshakes and put ice in them. Them shakes is s'posed t' be thick, honey. Like sucking a wrench out of the mud, ideally. Dilution of a milkshake is actually a felony crime in 3 states, and Sara was lucky to escape with only a bruised ego.

TRE (made the internet cry with his departure in ep. 9)




AMUSED DOUCHE: The muscular black chef with a brilliant smile, affable personality, and superlative cooking chops. An early favorite for the win.

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: You know who Tre didn't get along with? No one. Furthermore, he won 3 elimination challenges with such drool-pool dishes as...cheese grits topped with bacon-wrapped shrimp! After that, he seemed damn near unstoppable. But then came the two-part "Restaurant Wars". Tre fans, try not to get too discomposed as I kick the truth about your idol.

YOU NEED MORE BACON: The RW challenge comprised two episodes. During the first, Tre was named Executive Chef of Restaurant April and wasted no time in bragging in the individual interview segments. In fact, he guaranteed victory for his team of Casey, CJ and Brian all while laughing loudly and arrogantly. After a draw was declared for the first run-through, Tre further dug a hole by proclaiming he could make bread pudding "in my sleep", refusing to replace a dish on the menu that got shit on by judges, and centering the new courses around a salmon pesto that looked like he decided to get innovative with some fresh afterbirth he found laying around.

His exit has led to pronouncements on blogs nationwide; namely, concerning the "transparent idiocy" of the TC judges--who, you will remember, voted a Tre dish tops of all entries in three previous challenges--and the patently "unreasonable" policy whereby judges consider only that challenge when determining what lackluster performance to send home. In other words, what you did one or two episodes ago doesn't count for shit if you try and feed people placenta pesto. Inevitably, I even came across a couple comments suggesting racism on the part of Bravo in giving Tre the boot. Uh, no. The case of the Jena 6, that's racism. This is Tre being on a team with a woman who seduces onions, a one-nutted giant, and the one and only Seafood Boy--and still fucking up worse than any of them. Consider that before you go decrying this cruel cruel world.

All of which leaves the remaining 7 hopefuls. (Ooh, this section is brought to you by the Glad family of bloggers! I typed this on a GE keyboard and the spellcheck was provided by the great folks at Lean Cuisine!)

HUNG



AMUSED DOUCHE: Oh that Hung! From the very first time we saw him, when he claimed to be a Certified Professional Asshole, he's been so desperate to be hated. Ooh, I don't hold my tongue for anyone! I sharpen my knives with smug! When one combined his self-absorbed attitude with his early promise (QF win, placed in the top 2 for the first Elimination Challenge), it was hard not to envision a time in the near future when I'd be watching the show with gritted teeth and steaming ears as this diminutive little snork alienated his fellow chefs and whipped up some divine concoction, thus rendering him impervious to any petty criticisms as he steamrolls towards his coronation.

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: But then, in one of those developments, that makes me think there might be some divinity at work here, Hung started to suck. Dish after dish brought him before the judges for admonition; his Quickfire challenge offerings were uniformly poor and denied him challenge immunity week after week. Then, it got a little despairing (but only a li'l). Quickly, though, it became hilarious once I realized this arrogant snot was insisting on godhead status in the kitchen in spite of the consistent "assness" of his creations. And instead of praying to the first ten gods that popped up after a Google search for Hung to get the boot, I felt part of me would die if he left. Whose comeuppance would I savor like a salmon with delectable BBQ glaze? Also, he almost accidentally stabbed Casey with a knife as he ran around in the kitchen like some meth-addled Robin. That counts for something.

YOU NEED MORE BACON: Well, he's made it this far. And with Tre gone, his confidence is back with screaming vengeance. He stands a very real chance of winning the overall competition, and if this should occur, well...be forewarned that no children will be spared my squalling wrath.

CASEY



AMUSED DOUCHE: Looks like Jennifer Aniston. Is female. Befriends other chefs only to have them wrenched from her arms (see Lia, Tre).

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: Honestly, the only reasons to root for her on my own end are she's a woman and she may befriend Hung and/or Howie very soon.

YOU NEED MORE BACON: She has never made one dish I thought looked all that great shakes (hell, even Sara N. pulled that off with her Vietnamese BBQ) and during the Quickfire Relay Race she singleknifedly screwed her team by dicing onions with all the speed of a heavily-sedated widow. All the while, Hung is breaking down chickens with such ferocity I believe he was Jack the Ripper in a prior existence.

BRIAN





AMUSED DOUCHE: Seafood whiz who looks like B-52 Keith Strickland. I am the only one I have seen who has noticed this resemblance. Last name is "Malarkey". Some people are born great.

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: His single elimination win was at the storied BBQ challenge, when he unleashed one of the top 5 tempting dishes of the year with "seafood sausage." Oh, that BBQ challenge! I can just see myself several decades down the line, telling other peoples grandchildren about what a magical hour of television that was.

Apparently his marriage is an, um, "open kitchen". His wife's Myspace touts membership in a group that seeks out willing participants for "male-female-male" threesomes. Now that's some seafood sausage.

YOU NEED MORE BACON: Or beef. Or anything other than seafood. I really can't believe a blatant one-trick pony has made it so far, and if he makes the final four off of a seafood-dependent repertoire, he'd better have something amazing up his sleeve, like "black tiger shrimp in orgasm sauce with secret o' happiness salad".

CJ



AMUSED DOUCHE: Had testicular cancer a couple years back and lost a ball to the neighbors yard. Is tall. Like, Thurston Moore tall.

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: CJ has a snarky sense of humor that brooks no loyalties. During the first RW judges table, he gleefully cosigned disparaging remarks against teammate Brian while in the same room with him. Overcompensation? Or is CJ the ultimate free spirit? Is losing a testicle a gateway to true contentment in this chaotic universe?

YOU NEED MORE BACON: "Cruel Jerk" and "Cuntish Jackoff" are just two of the things "CJ" stands for, according to the Interweb's many Tre supporters. See, it's become conventional wisdom that CJ just stood by in the second Restaurant Wars and let his boy Tre get smashed by a Greyhound to save his own underwhelming self. Never mind that Tre was the exec chef and he cooked bullshit food, or that he was resolute that he could handle the pressure. Oh no, he couldn't be culpable, let's name CJ the douche.

Mind you, I can't defend Solo Ball too much. When the guest judge demanded to know why CJ--as team assembler and sous chef--didn't have Tre's back as their kitchen basically was falling into the crapper, CJ could not actually respond but rather look over to his right and (way) down at Casey for--what, exactly? How can she pretend to speak for you? Bitch cuts onions like a heavily-sedated widow and you want her to construct some fantastic Robert E. Lee backstory for you on the spot? One Ball, please!

But in the end...CJ is a genius. If Tre cooked to his potential, their team would have won and minna tanoshiku. And if, by some unimaginable tear in the space/salmon continuum Tre blew it, well, he is the executive chef. Ya see?


SARA MAIR



AMUSED DOUCHE: Makes her own cheese. Like anything else matters after finding that out.

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: Went from hated to celebrated after winning the "Restaurant Wars", namely for keeping nemesis Howie and fireplug Hung in line in the kitchen. While Casey and the other Sara were whining about not getting to party and having to make food whilst decked out in they skimpies, Sara M. was shown on camera saying, "Who gives a shit?" Meanwhile she's wearing a dress that would allow her breasts to crush ants if the need arose.

YOU NEED MORE BACON: Leadership in abundance, but inconsistent with the dish selection. Hampered also in her quest to be named Top Chef by that whole "peeing while sitting" thing.

DALE



AMUSED DOUCHE: Gay chef from Chicago. Like the dearly departed Sandee, insists on rocking the fauxhawk. Doesn't have time to "dick around with a conch".

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: Deep into the season, Dale soundbites are like finding the Hershey Special Darks in the candy bowl: scintillating treats with unusual (and addictive) flavor that leaves you digging for more. And more there will be, 'cause man cannot live by the Mr. Goodbar wisdom of Howie alone.

Has the good sense to offset the fauxhawk with a red bandana. Great color and keeps him from sweating into the food. As far as his cooking, has yet to win a big one (um, shush) but aside from his questionable leadership in the dessert team fiasco (he got Camille booted and he knew it), his offerings have looked very tasty. Who can forget Dale using instant mashed potatos and rotisserie chicken for his dumplings?

YOU NEED MORE BACON: Dale is fun, funny, and talented but he also frets too much and takes things immediately, wrenchingly to heart. But he is smart enough to know when and what he needs to improve. Case in point: as front-of-house for his restaurant, he did little in the kitchen and concentrated on making the interior design decisions. This led to the unbelievably ill-advised placing of scented candles at the tables, among other sins. When he escaped what he felt was a certain elimination, he resolved to take a more active role in the kitchen as well as maintain a friendly FOH presence.

Of all the chefs remaining, he is the only one I see without a fatal flaw. Do not be shocked to see him win it all.

HOWIE




AMUSED DOUCHE: Understand this, Howie isn't here to make friends, and if he's gotta be an insufferable prick, he will be an insufferable prick. He's a fat bald sweaty stubborn bull in that kitchen, and you either respect the Howie train or get off the tracks!

WHO YOU CALLIN' SUCCOTASH?: With two Elimination Challenge victories, he is the only one of the remaining chefs with more than one under his belt. So clearly, there's some talent there.

YOU NEED MORE BACON: Until the Restaurant Wars, no team with Howie as a member was the winning team. Remember that. This man is such a cancer I don't doubt he has CJ's ball hidden away somewhere, the bastard! The many transgressions of Howie don't stop with lack of team spirit, oh no. He also: sweats into his food; especially doesn't like girls being let into the clubhouse; looks like an especially sinister turtle whenever he deigns to smile.

But the event that cemented Howie as number one Season 3 douchesack was during the Sara N. elimination. Already it was obvious as soon as the losing team came before the judges that Sara was going home, as soon as she opened her mouth and said that cooking in her "party" clothes left her feeling "demoralized". As soon as Sara said that, the sight of her exiting the kitchen with her knives packed one last time actually flashed in my head minutes before it actually appeared on screen.

But when Sara started to implicate Howie as a factor in her lack of assertiveness, he immediately went on the offensive, referring to her as "the baby of the house" and standing by unapologetically as the tears flowed even more copiously. That's called "twisting the knife", and it takes a real self-absorbed assclown to do it with such relish. To top it all off, when a sniffling Sara, sitting with the other chefs awating her fate, proclaimed, "Apparently I'm the baby of the house", Howie tried to cover by saying, ""If that's how I came across, that's not what I was saying". I love when reality show participants forget that they are being filmed pretty much fucking always, and this "I was taken out of context" shit won't fly.

Howie knew enough not to even get up from his seat when Sara said her goodbyes, and I somehow sense he'll get a similar treatment when he's told to pack his knives or even better stick one in his forehead. Which hopefully will be tonight. Please, Jebus, tonight.

Top Chef