A super-serious voiceover tells us that over 100,000 chefs have tried out for Hell's Kitchen and over 10,000 customers have been served, some of whom didn't even get salmonella. There have been a hundred and thirty-two hopefuls who have walked through the doors for the privilege of being screamed at by Gordon Ramsay, and only an elite nine have tasted victory.
And now Ramsay is putting his reputation on the line because this is the tenth season, and that means we get lots of quick cuts and highlights that promise us loads of physical violence, because there's nothing we love more than watching sweaty people in a kitchen swearing at and pushing each other. "Get ready for a throwdown! Hoedown! No holds barred showdown! On the most intense season of Hell's Kitchen ever!" To emphasize the point, a hunk of meat on a grill explodes. Can't wait for season! The eleventh season is the homicide season!
The Hell's Kitchen motorcade makes its way through the streets of Vegas, carrying Dana, 27, a chef instructor; Brian, 31, a personal chef (he's here to "fucking destroy people"). There's also Clemenza, 41, an executive chef. "I will do whatever it takes," he says, including giving up his arm or a leg. I hope he's talking about Hell's Kitchen and not diabetes.
Sous-chef Scott greets them all, and personal chef Briana, 32, tells us she thinks she already has a crush on him. Scott says he told Ramsay he'd shave his head to work with him, and Scott thinks this is a great way to test the new chefs' commitment. Sous-chef Andi brings in a barber chair, and saucier Danielle, 27, says this can't be happening, and she's also the first contestant we've seen not immediately dropping f-bombs.
Scott tells us he convinced Andi to make the same commitment -- sous-chef Justin, 29, thinks there's no way she's cutting her hair. Then, to everyone's surprise, it turns out Andi's wearing a wig and she's actually already bald underneath.
"Show of hands, first volunteer," says Scott. "He's staring right fucking at me," says Dana, 27, whose culinary position is "River Vale, NJ."
A couple of guys put up their hands, prompting the rest of them to do so, and some of the women do too. Scott points to a particularly be-follicled guy he calls "Shaggy" and beckons him over. Executive chef Patrick, 40, shoulder-length hair himself, expresses dismay at us that Scott's "taking the longhairs first." Given that everyone we've seen so far do interviews STILL HAS HAIR, this isn't as dramatic as they think it is.
Shaggy gets his hair buzzed, and Robyn, 31, is all, "Oh shit, this is really going to happen, we're all going to get our heads shaved!" Again, one can't help but notice that Robyn does not have a shaved head.
Scott asks who's , and several people -- not all -- put their hands up. He selects a woman to come forward, and she does, not seeming too concerned about it. She probably realizes that hair grows back, after all. Buzz buzz buzz go the shears, and now she's fronting a Sinead O'Connor tribute act.
Danielle avoids eye contact and Scott picks her anyway. She comes to the chair but then shies away at the clippers, and that's when Ramsay strolls in on an upstairs balcony to demand what the fuck is going here. Why, it's just a contrived shock opening to your tenth season, Ramsay! Surely you were involved in coming up with this!
He orders Danielle back in line, and then as we watch her say, "Thank god! Thank god!" the on-screen graphic says this is Dana of River Vale. Dynamite job guys! Look, if the SHOW can't keep track of who's who, how the hell are WE supposed to?
Ramsay tells them to get into the kitchen and make him their signature dish. The chefs race to do so. "What the fuck happened to Andi?" asks Ramsay. Lord, I hope not everything's this scripted this season.
So the opening credits have a Vegas magician theme, which is vastly inferior to last year's pinball game. Who's up this year? Patrick. Briana. Barbie. Kimmie. Clemenza. Don. Roshni. Royce. Brian. Robyn. Dana. Guy. Justin. Tavon. Tiffany. Christina. Chris. Danielle. These are the people who have completely erased any memory of who competed last year. Except for that little one who was always yelling at everyone. Good ol' whatshername!
The chefs, divided into men and women, have forty-five minutes to cook their dishes. Brian's whistling, which seems to annoy Ramsay, despite Brian's assertions that Ramsay's going to like his personality.
Meanwhile, Danielle balks at stomping out a little fire with her new shoes, much to the un-impression of Kimmie, 27, who is from the Nutbush hood.
Once the dishes are prepared and plated and the chefs assembled, Ramsay lets them in on a little secret: the people who had their heads shaved weren't contestants at all but Scott's friends. And in much less of a surprise, it turns out Andi's hair is unharmed and is lying under a bald cap. Brian says Andi is sexy with or without hair, and he's not wrong.
But we're not here to discuss the sexiness of Bald Andi! We're here to find the head chef for Gordon Ramsay's Paris in Las Vegas, with a salary of a quarter-million dollars! Everyone applies. Patrick tells us that working for Ramsay is the "cat's meow," because maybe he is from the 1920s?
Robyn brings up her seared striped bass to compete against Don's southwestern saltimbocca. (Since Don is from Texas, the soundtrack switches to banjo-pickin' immediately). It's a large portion, and Ramsay practically chokes on all the cumin he used, which is unfortunate since he'd already praised the perfect seasoning in Robyn's perfect dish (which she said is a perfect orgasm, so everyone keep your eye on this one). That's a point for the women.
two are Tiffany against Guy. She tells us she's trying to prove she's not some dumb ditzy blonde who looks really good. The second half of that, check. The first part -- we're going to see facts not yet in evidence. Anyway, she's got a lamb schnitzel that Ramsay turns his nose up because it's drenched in sauce and feels like a wet diaper. Kimmie helpfully tells us she doesn't understand what goes through "some of these blonde bitches' heads." Ramsay calls it disgusting. Before we can get to Guy, Clemenza coughs loudly enough for Ramsay to ask if he's OK. Well, he doesn't appear to be dying IMMEDIATELY, I guess.
Back to Guy, who was a drill sergeant in the Israeli infantry for three years, so it's going to take a lot to break him. He makes the mistake of telling Ramsay that his pan-seared striped bass with a chocolate miso sauce didn't come out the way he wanted it to without Ramsay having even tried it yet. He says it was burned and advises Ramsay not to try it. Ramsay can't believe it. Neither can anyone back in line. Listen, Guy: Ramsay just called your opponent's dish a disgusting wet diaper, so unless you think yours is worse THAN A DISGUSTING WET DIAPER, shut up!
Ramsay tries it anyway, and says it tastes like a fucking fish sundae and awards no points. Clemenza starts hacking up a lung again and Ramsay asks if he needs to sit down, which he does. "I am getting seriously worried about you," he says.
After the commercial break, while we think Clemenza MIGHT ACTUALLY DIE, Clemenza recovers and acknowledges that while he's really overweight, he still works fourteen to sixteen hours a day and while spin circles around us. I would think that, gravity-wise, most of us would orbit him, just due to physics, but since it looks like he's going to pull through, let's move on.
up is Roshni, 28, an executive chef who is really short. But, as short people (and no one else) like to say, "Good things come in small packages." She's got coriander-crusted raclette, and Ramsay praises her balance of flavors. She's up against Royce's pan-seared grouper. He cooks at SDK in South Beach under executive chef (and HK Season 1 runner-up) Ralph Pagano. "You're kidding me," says Ramsay, as he picks through Royce's dish, seeming unimpressed. After he tries it, Ramsay says Pagano has obviously passed on some good techniques, because it's delicious. "You like me now?" Royce asks. Nope. And it's getting worse every time you open your mouth. Ramsay awards a point to both dishes.
Danielle's plate looks a mess to Justin's, so the men tie it up, and then Kimmie puts some garbage on a plate and Justin makes a dessert so neither of them get a point. Barbie makes something with soggy potatoes and she's up against Chris, who makes something bitter and burnt, so no points awarded there either.
Briana vs. Patrick! Delicious duck and perfect seasoning. A point for each! Dana and her pan-seared scallops go up against Tavon's big ol' pot of scallops, shrimp and crab over a bed of fettuccine noodles with whisky-infused Alfredo sauce, meaning Ramsay's lost a little of the respect he felt for Tavon already being an executive chef at 22. "How much vinegar to you put in there?" asks Ramsay. Tavon admits to a drizzle, and then more than a drizzle, and Ramsay calls it hideous and rank and really bad. That's a point for the women. "Alfredo, my ass," says Ramsay.
Looks like Chris is the guy who says it's a proven fact that men are better cooks than women, so he's going to sit back and wait for the men to win. But since it's the last pair, the best they can do right now is tie it up.
Christina, 32, a chef de cuisine, brings her molasses-glazed pork chop up to compete against Clemenza's phlegm-infused stuffed veal chop with truffle infusion. Clemenza tells us that he knows Ramsay doesn't like fat guys, but he's been doing this for eighteen years and may actually be doing it better than Ramsay. Feel free to tell him so, Clemenza!
Ramsay praises Christina's beautiful dish, so Clemenza's going to have to really wow him. Everything's cooked well, and it looks like Clemenza's got a shot, except Ramsay's getting an overpowering truffle aroma off it, so the women get a point and start celebrating their victory accordingly. "Girls rule, boys drool!" Barbie tells us.
Ramsay tells the guys that they have to clean up both kitchens (am I nuts or did a burner get left on?) and I hope Tavon talks about himself in the third person, as in "Can't get no worse than this, having Tavon washing dishes" all season long.
As for the women, they're getting a steak barbecue, cooked by Hell's Kitchen Season 3 winner Rock and Season 6 winner Dave. Well, if nothing else, winning the show guarantees you endless employment by the show itself.
So the women sit down for dinner and get great tips like "If you play your cards right you can take them out one by one."
The men clean the kitchens -- Clemenza griping about drowning his perfect dish in truffle oil -- and then get to work studying the dinner service menu. Meanwhile, the women, having had a few drinks, get a little giggly, much to Robyn's chagrin. However, I think we'll all always remember Barbie's helpful tip that a proper cooked scallop is supposed to feel like the tip of a penis. "Like when you squeeze it?" asks Danielle. Oh, the pride their families must be feeling right around now.
The day the chefs -- men in blue, women in red -- convene in the kitchen, receive their new knifes, and get down to prep work. We're told the men are feeling confident while the women have some first-day jitters.
Ramsay convenes them all to tell them it's the 125th dinner service, so they want to make it a special one. As opposed to every dinner service before it, where Ramsay suggests they just phone it in. Pop quiz for Briana on the menu entrees. She blanks. "We're so fucking screwed," says Kimmie.
After the commercial break, it turns out that Briana is able to come up with the entrees, and some creative editing dragged it out for us. Anyway, Royce feels they're going to knock it out of the park, and Hell's Kitchen is open for business!
Women get first order. Roshni compares it to the first day of school, except on the first day of school kids probably already know the difference between five (number of scallops in a portion) and three (which is how many she serves for the first order). Then she serves some raw ones, leading Barbie to question just how many penises Roshni has touched lately, because that's a burn on Roshni somehow.
In the blue kitchen, Royce blames whoever prepped his station for not providing any anchovies for the Caesar salads. He says he's been ambushed. Not that they're in any danger of losing out to Roshni's raw scallops any time soon. Ramsay brings the plate back and invites everyone to feel the non-dicklike-texture, and then he kicks Roshni out of the kitchen, leaving Barbie to lead the team's appetizers out of the kitchen.
Meanwhile, Royce has finally found some anchovies, a task that probably took only 30 seconds in actual time, but now the problem is Tavon serving up some raw squab. Royce shows no shame in dumping on someone else now that the heat's off him.
In the dining room, the diners are starting to wonder where their food is, because if there's one thing Hell's Kitchen is known for, it's never delaying food while Ramsay screams at his new chefs who are working together for the first time. "Leigh Bodden" is a "pro football player." At least he was, although he didn't play the 2010 season due to an injury and then he was released last year and hasn't been picked up by anyone else. So we're not talking Tom Brady-level status here.
Other chefs try to get around Tavon and send other orders out, but their scallops suck too, thanks, apparently, to Tavon's hackwork prepping them.
So an hour and a quarter into dinner service, the Blue Team hasn't sent out a single appetizer. Brian tells us that Tavon treated the scallops "like a homeless rat" whatever in the world THAT'S supposed to mean, like maybe the Blue Team shouldn't trust Brian around the knives either. Ramsay mocks Tavon's executive chef credentials. Tavon says he froze, and then he chuckles, earning himself a trip out of the kitchen, which doesn't seem to bother him too much.
Finished screaming at the men for a moment, Ramsay wanders over to the Red Kitchen, where the women are firing out the appetizers to the diners' delight. At least until Christina screws up the beef Wellington. And then screws up another one, so they have to reroll them, causing a long delay and the chance for the HK sound guy to stick in some crickets chirping in the background.
Apparently it's Royce who's now tasked to succeed where Tavon failed, and Royce also, again like Tavon, appears to enjoy referring to himself in the third person. Only Royce can't even cook spaghetti -- spaghetti! -- and gets thrown out of the kitchen himself. So we need a third scapegoat, which is when Don puts his hand up and says, "Well, how about if I severely undercook the onion tart that we're replacing the awful scallops with?" That's what happens, and a blisteringly angry Ramsay orders the entire team out of the kitchen.
Justin says he's never been so embarrassed, and anyone in there who wasn't doesn't belong in a kitchen in the first place. Too bad for the Blue diners. Who's going to feed them? Not the Red Team, unless the diners want some of Red's still-raw beef Wellington. Ramsay kicks them all out of the kitchen as well, and Christina's in tears over her performance.
So after the customers presumably ordered in pizza and wings and leave, Ramsay addresses the teams in front of the kitchens and lays down some stats: a hundred diners, eighteen chefs, zero entrees served. But one team sucked worse: the Blue Team, because at least the Red Team got their appetizers out.
The men discuss who's going to be up for elimination. Patrick figures it should be the two idiots on appetizers, because that's what really cost them. Royce whines that he couldn't get even one Caesar out because there were no anchovies prepped. Guy, who was responsible for it, doesn't see the big deal in that because all you have to do is go to the fridge and get them, which is true.
Clemenza's approaching it from a different perspective: who will be a better asset to the team in future competitions? He thinks Don is useless, which Don thinks is unfair because he didn't get a chance to do anything. Tavon also thinks it's unfair, and figures -- in a somewhat befuddling display of logic -- that Royce should be gone, because Royce screwed up just as bad as Tavon did but was Tavon's assistant.
With the women watching, the men file back into Hell's Kitchen and stand in front of Ramsay. Patrick tells him the first nominee because they couldn't recover from his raw squab. "You got screwed by a pigeon," says Ramsay, helpfully.
The second nominee is Don. Ramsay's surprised, because Don didn't even cook. So not only did they screw up the dinner, but they came to a "crap consensus" for elimination, he pulls Royce forward with Tavon anyway.
Tavon says he takes responsibility, and Ramsay asks him to rate his performance (using chef's positions as the scale). Tavon says, "Prep cook who got thrown onto the line." Ramsay counters with "dishwasher on a shitty day." Heh.
As for Royce, he didn't perform well tonight, but he was sabotaged and he's shown Ramsay what he can do with his signature dish. Ramsay asks him about the sabotage, and then Royce clumsily tries not to name names, and then blames Guy anyway. Guy admits to forgetting the anchovies, but that's hardly sabotage.
Ramsay's pissed off because he wanted the 125th dinner service to be special, and then he says his decision is Royce. A couple of the women gasp, but of course it's one of Ramsay's patented "back in line" moves, and not even Royce looks like he believed he was being eliminated instead of Tavon.
Tavon surrenders his jacket to Ramsay and leaves the restaurant. "Nobody wants to go home first, but I did what I did. I messed up," says Tavon, but he's looking forward to sitting on the couch and watching Royce go home the following week.
Ramsay tells the rest of the men that their fight-back was appalling, and he tells them all to fuck off. Don's pleased because Ramsay called out the lot of them for putting him up for elimination, and Guy's pissed at Royce for throwing him under the bus. "The guys are acting like little bitches," says Robyn, who should probably remember that "we sucked slightly less than the other team" doesn't constitute a major victory.
"Tavon may be an executive chef at 22, but he did little to impress me during his short stay in Hell's Kitchen," says Ramsay. Poor Tavon doesn't even get a pun!
Daniel is a writer in Newfoundland with a wife and a daughter. He knows how to cook spaghetti. Follow him on Twitter (@DanMacEachern) or email him at danieljdaniel[at]gmail.com.