By Keckler
Okay, so the iTunes version of the show opens with The Katie Leebot explaining in her flat, impersonal way what this show is all about. I'll tell you what it's all about: chefs compete against each other for the payout of a "state-of-the-art" kitchen provided by Kenmore Elite; $100,000 in cash to put toward their own restaurant dreams; and a "feature" in Food & Wine magazine. Well, let me tell you something: I've since seen the "feature" in Food & Wine and not only was the winner shafted out of appearing on the cover, but the "feature" wasn't even listed IN TYPE on the cover as being one of that month's attractions and a reason why you should even pick it up. So, whatever, F & W, I think I'm going to be salivating over the $100,000 and the brushed steel commercial ovens and stovetops, if you don't mind. Plus, Gail Simmons is a right bitch, so that's even more reason to ignore the much-touted "feature." (Although: SHE DIDN'T EVEN WRITE IT?!) ["And, not for the last time, I'm sure: put 'em away, Gail." -- Sars] The winner also gets to cook at the Food & Wine Classic in Aspen, which just happened a few weeks ago, and will walk around for the rest of his/her life bearing the title of "Top Chef." The Katie Leebot seems to think this is quite awesome, but I think it's kind of gay.
The Katie Leebot drones that Tom Colicchio -- he of many foods, places, and prizes -- is one of the judges, as well as the aforehated Gail Simmons, from Food & Wine. The oddest thing about her position at F & W is that I can't seem to find her on the masthead. I know her bio at Bravo now says she does "special projects" for the magazine, but am I crazy, or wasn't she originally presented to us as a food editor? Hmm. Oh, and The Katie Leebot also thinks that she herself is a judge, but since she's so clearly not, I'm going to pretty much ignore her. Especially since she got her robotic ass so fired from season.
And now for the credits. Shots of the twelve contestants are interspersed with blue gas flames, the shah-WIIIING of knife steeling, and other shots around a kitchen. I love how one of the conspiracy theories that abounded during this show's original run was that Tiffani's shadowed placement above Brian's actual profile Meant Something. Well, in the end it might have, but not enough.
Oh, lovely shots of San Francisco. We've got Fisherman's Barf (tourists go to "feel San Francisco," but all the locals avoid the masses of humanity like Minnesotans avoid the Mall of America) and some typical Victorians (my neighborhood!) as Harold tells us he's a chef from New York. He admits that he first started cooking in high school as a way to meet girls, but then he discovered he had a "knack for it." Given that he looks like the foodists answer to Matthew Fox, I'm going to bet he discovered he had a knack for cooking AND meeting girls.
is Andrea, the token earthy-crunchy, whose last apartment was probably in a tree that was about to be cut down. Andrea cooks healthfully and teaches other people how to cook healthfully. She got into the healthful cooking thing when she had a bout of hyperthyroid trouble, and she improved her life when she improved her diet.
Miguel arrives as the token Latino. He cooks in large New York hotel and cooking is his passion. I'm sorry, but there's something about Miguel that looks Down Syndrome-y. I know he doesn't actually have it, but he definitely looks like he could be one of those kids on Sesame Street.
Oh, dear, here we have Candice: the model who eats. She's young, she's pretty, and she's a culinary student. We see her getting fitted into a bikini as she says, "I'm trying to steer away from the modeling world and into the culinary world." Bikini Candice makes a monster face at the camera to show how NOT a model she is.
Brian, the token black dude, steps out of a car wearing a baseball hat and a tweed jacket. He's a personal chef for the likes of Eddie Murphy, Mariah Carey, and Mary J. Blige. "You know, people who can afford me," he notes. Do they all have to be "of color" as well?
Ken, the token British islander, does martial arts in his application video. Not sure why that's pertinent, dude. He says that he trained in a kitchen that was "very militaristic" where the head chefs flipped the plates onto the ground if they didn't like the food. Wait, did he work for Gordon Ramsay? Because I'd love to call this tool DonKen. It's a Hell's Kitchen joke. DonKen flashes his knife around a bedroom in the new house. He jabs, parries, and flourishes. I don't want to be around while he's carving a turkey. Meat everywhere.
Lee Anne arrives at the house. She's the token Asian chick. I know, technically, Candice is also Asian, but she's too busy filling the role as the token pretty girl who knows very little about food. You know, because she's so pretty. I might as well tell you right now that Lee Anne is my favorite. She tells us that she's the Executive Chef of Event Operations at the French Culinary Institute in New York. Which means she knows Jacques Pepin! Another reason to be friends with her.
And here we have Stephen. Stephen, the token...what? Asshole? Freak? Man who always wears a suit and loud tie at the weirdest times? Not sure what he is other than Hated By Me, but he's also a sommelier at the MGM Grand in Las Vegas and he proves this by sabreing the top off a bottle of Dom Give Me a Fucking Break in his audition tape. Yeah, I have about five friends who can do that same thing, so pour me a big glass of Moet et Unimpressed. He curls his upper lip condescendingly as he talks to his interviewer about how he's "definitely a leader" and how he "sets an example that others should follow." Just wait, Stephen, just wait.
is the token black chick, Lisa. Not much to say about her except that she's self-taught, and her chyron says she's a cooking teacher. I think she also emerges as the token Mom o' Many Kids.
DonKen makes some crack about how the new house's kitchen is a "housewife's kitchen," whatever that means, and tells the token older lady that she should feel right at home there. "Fuck you, you are an ass!" the token foul-mouthed older lady laughs back. Cynthia used to own a restaurant but now she caters and party-plans and swears. She also has celeb-cred because she has done parties for Nicky Hilton, Jay-Z, "and of course Beyoncé, who is a doll." Why "of course"? Is it that all party planners have to do Beyoncé to earn their (chicken) wings? Is she like the cheerleader that all the football players have to sleep with before they can officially be on the team?
The crew tramps up to the roof deck and looks out at a misty San Francisco neighborhood. Laurel Heights? Presidio? Sutro Heights? Dave introduces himself. I think he's the token gay dude, but I'm not entirely certain. He used to work in the tech world, but now he's a professional chef who runs a restaurant in Manhattan Beach. He's also an amateur crier. (SPOILER!) ["'Amateur'?" -- Sars]
Miguel and Candice check out the bedrooms and closets. Well, Candice checks out the closets, and Miguel checks out Candice in the bedrooms. Miguel teases the model that she brought the world in her suitcase. She giggles that she totally did. And now, finally, the token bitch. Tiffani glares at Candice and Miguel and rips open her huge black duffel. She interviews that she's all about the competition and the money: "I'm not here to make friends." (Don't worry, you won't.) "If I meet some cool people along the process, great." (You will, but they'll hate you.) "But I'm here to win this competition and that's it." (...)
The real shit begins with the first Quickfire Challenge. The chefs pack into the cars and drive through the city. They arrive at Fleur de Lys, a restaurant my in-laws ate at in the '70s. It was great then, it's great now. We get some basic lip service letting us know that at least some of the chefs have an inkling about how awesome an institution Fleur de Lys is. The Katie Leebot welcomes them and oh Christ. Does she really have "food writer/host" on her chyron? The host thing, fine. The food writer thing? Where, Katie BilLee Joel? WHERE? The Katie Leebot introduces them to Tom Colicchio and to the chef and owner of Fleur de Lys, Hubert Keller. That's pronounced "Hoo-bear," people. Don't make the same mistake I did and think that it rhymes with "Q-Bert." It's a bit embarrassing. The Katie Leebot explains that Colicchio is the head judge of Top Chef and she's sure they all know how wonderful he is. Colicchio stands in silence, not meeting any of their eyes, and looking important and gourmetish. The Katie Leebot explains further that each episode will have a Quickfire Challenge and an Elimination Challenge. Whoever wins the Quickfire gets immunity and cannot be eliminated that episode.
Colicchio forces his bald way into the proceedings and informs them they should feel honored with this Quickfire. They get to work in Keller's kitchen, and the challenge is to "hold the line" for thirty minutes. Cynthia interviews -- around her crazy blonde hair and black glasses, which are positioned so far down her nose I'm afraid they risk becoming "foreign object contamination" -- that line cook is "one of the most brutal jobs you could possibly do." Is it more brutal than say, Owl Vomit Collector? What about Deadliest Catcher? Mmm, I love me some Discovery programming! Crabs popping their legs off because of extreme cold? Tasty. "If you can't cut it," Colicchio goes on, "you'll be asked to walk out of the kitchen. We're going to find out very quickly who deserves to be here." Well, if "quickly" means "in thirteen weeks," then yeah.
We get hero shots of delectable food in Keller's kitchen. Colicchio tells the cameras that the competing chefs are going to be asked to cook, sauce, and plate, and since Keller has such exacting standards, not many of them will be able to handle it.
First up is Lisa. She's never been in a professional kitchen, which becomes clear as she blunders her way through her time. After twenty-three minutes, Keller tells her to leave the line. Her fail? She knocked over a tower of food that was already plated.
comes Miguel, who has seven years of professional kitchen experience. As he futzes with two espresso cups on a tray, Keller tells him he's "way too nervous to work the line." Miguel is out after three minutes; his fail is listed as "nerves." Damn, Lisa killed him on that time! That's pretty impressive considering his experience and her lack of.
Cynthia and her nineteen years of experience are ousted, because Keller doesn't like her white running shoes. He tells her, "You should know better," and she is out after zero minutes. Damn. I mean, I know clogs are the usual footwear, but I also know that some kitchens are fine as long as you are rubber-soled and fully covered. Either he preferred her to be in black shoes or he didn't feel the sneaker covering was tough enough to handle boiling water and/or falling knives. Not really sure which Keller's being so "exact" on. Keller mutters that what she was doing to her feet was "way too dangerous." Cynthia joins the others after swearing a bit and tells them it was because of her shoes.
Andrea starts to freak that she needs to have everything perfect before she goes in. Andrea, with no restaurant kitchen experience, is bounced after sixteen minutes for dropping food on the floor and "oopsie"-ing over it.
Tiffani steps in and proves her six years of restaurant experience by barking things like "hot out" and looking calmly busy. She also looks very aware that she's looking calmly busy. I hate her. Keller even goes so far to tease her that if she continues to work that way, he might offer her a job. Tiffani passes her thirty minutes and interviews that she's competitive and passionate. I think we need to start a drinking game. Any time a chef says some variation of how cooking and food is "their passion," you pound whatever's handy.
Dave also makes it easily, but Candice is too slow and fails after ten minutes. Brian, with his five years of experience, is told that he's doing things well but not fast enough. He's gone in nineteen minutes. comes Stephen and his seven years of experience. Keller tells him, "Stephen, you better stop now because you're slowing down the line. Just stop it." Yeah, Stephen, just stop it!
Harold interviews that his thirteen years of service and comfort behind the line didn't seem to matter when he saw others return in defeat. Camera in his face, Harold greets the other cooks in Spanish. Harold says aloud that he's shaking for no good reason as he squeezes out droplets of balsamic syrup on a circle of basil oil. Keller gives Harold another chance to get his shakes under control but when he examines the plate again, Keller fails him out for nerves after seven minutes.
Lee Anne and her eight years of experience are very comfortable with everything. She calls out commands, plates and cooks with ease, and passes. Keller even asks if she would stay another ten minutes.
Finally we have DonKen and his twenty brogue years of experience. He majorly fucks up when he sticks his finger in a sauce to taste it. Keller tells him now they have to throw out the sauce and start it all over again. DonKen is failed after one minute for "unsanitary tasting." Heh. Colicchio underscores that unhygienic hijinks just don't fly in Keller's kitchen. Outside, DonKen swaggers about his fail, boasting, "I always use my finger." Which, gross. On just...so many levels. My instructors always told me that when you stick your finger in to taste something, it's as if you're sticking your entire mouth in. Even worse, because your finger is probably much dirtier than your mouth. Except, maybe, in Cynthia's case. You always carry around a tasting spoon in your pocket and that spoon never dips into the pot. Using another spoon, you pull out a taste, drop that taste in your tasting spoon and taste. Then you toss the first spoon into the wash. It complicated but it's clean. Different restaurants and different chefs have different standards but the point is, you cook and perform to the standards of the kitchen you are standing in, regardless of how you've done it before.
Keller comes out, and The Katie Leebot announces that Lee Anne won the Quickfire challenge. Lee Anne dimples and shakes Keller's hand as everyone else applauds. Some more thin-lipped and more reluctantly than others, Tiffani. The Katie Leebot must be stuck on a subroutine because she finds about four different ways to remind us that because of her win, Lee Anne cannot be eliminated the day. The day's Elimination Challenge is for each chef to cook his or her signature dish. The Katie Leebot instructs them to go home and enjoy their first night in the house: "For one of you, it will be your last." Keller pleasantly tells all of them, "I hope you learned something today." DonKen brogues up, "I didn't learn anything today, Chef, I wasn't there long enough." Exactly. You learned that your dirty, dirty finger doesn't go well with Keller's sauces. Scary music plays as Tiffani looks bug-eyed. DonKen goes on, asking if Keller threw out the contaminated sauce. Keller shrugs, "I saw you licking your finger." "You're not answering my question, Chef," DonKen persists, making the title sound as disrespectful as possible. "You said you were going to trow the sauce out, did you trow it out?" DonKen wonders. Hell, even I learn faster than this guy; maybe I should be on Top Chef. Keller tells him that no one in his kitchen "puts the finger in the sauce." DonKen shrugs insultingly and says that he works with his hands. Dude, tell me what restaurant he works in so I can never go there. Colicchio jumps in and reams DonKen for being a disrespectful asshole to the chef in his own restaurant. DonKen smarms that he speaks his mind, and that's who he is. Colicchio continues to call him out on his crap and says that there's probably eleven people who would agree. "Absolutely," Tiffani is the first to brown-nose. ["Stay out of it, little sister." -- Sars] A few others agree. Colicchio says that he guesses they'll see what he's really made of in the Elimination Challenge. DonKen shrugs.
As the camera catches a de-whited DonKen scraping up some dribs and drabs from a pan in Keller's kitchen and shoving it in his mouth, Tiffani interviews how totally awful DonKen is. Tiffani catches DonKen eating the food and asks, "Are you eating off the fucking rack? Are you going to ask someone if you can have that or are you just going to take?" DonKen asks if she wants him to ask her. Wha--? Tiffani tells him he's unbelievable (something I'm sure he agrees with) and informs him that he made a mockery of the whole challenge. DonKen rolls his eyes and walks away.
In the cars -- where not only did the directors make sure to place DonKen in the same vehicle, but they made DonKen and Tiffani sit to each other -- DonKen has an arm slung across the seat behind Tiffani. The drama continues. Lee Anne and Tiffani comment that they had a lot of fun working the line. "I did too," DonKen adds, "tasting them sauces, they were so good." Lee Anne tells him not to even start because he's harshing her buzz. DonKen plays dumb. Lee Anne interviews that she initially felt sorry for the prick, but now she doesn't think he even deserves to wear a chef's coat. "It's time to vote the asshole off the island." That's my girl!
day, it's the Elimination Challenge and -- oh, hello, Golden Gate and Painted Ladies! I totally live across the park from those Full Houses. Ew! Ew! EW! They show two guys in succession riding those stupid Segways down Market Street. As a San Franciscan, I object, because I rarely see those Segweirdoes. Maybe once every three months, but certainly not two riders in a row! Unless you're Gob Bluth with flowing, flappy trousers, it's just not cool. The chefs arrive at Bryan's on California to do a little grocery shopping. Let me tell you something about Bryan's of Laurel Heights. It's not all that. It's overpriced food for bejeweled and benailed women who carry around clutch dogs in their sun-damaged hands. The produce, while attractive and not too blemished (like the matrons), is overpriced even for this city. Plus, if I'm going to pay those prices for produce -- and I did, only once -- I expect label information on a basket of chiles that tells me much more than "assorted chiles." Yeah, I can see that they're "assorted," because some are green, some are red, some are short, and some are long. How about "Thai," "Jalapeno," or "Fresno," you fuckers?! Anyway, the best part of Bryan's is the smaller store. It was the first Bryan's and has always carried only meat and fish. The meat and fish is definitely awesome in selection, presentation, and freshness, but why did they have to get so greedy and annex another space just to sell yogurt for two dollars more than Albertson's? Right, because they can.
The chefs have one hour and thirty dollars to concoct their signature dish. Cynthia lets off a string of profanity to the effect that she doesn't know what the fuck she's going to do. DonKen shows off by forcing his way behind the poultry counter (they have a separate counter for fish, poultry, and red meat -- it's glorious!) and airlining a chicken breast himself. It's really not the most attractive name for a boneless chicken breast with the first wing bone still attached, is it? As DonKen breaks down a chicken, an unknown voice yells, "He has to come out now!" We don't know if it's the Bryan's manager concerned about their liability, or a Top Chef producer concerned about time. Harold knows that his shakes in Fleur de Lys means he has to step up his game. He picks up some snapper. Cynthia bounces around the red meat counter, still not knowing what she wants to do but buying shit regardless. Stephen -- oh, man. Let me get some juice in my glass. So, Stephen is in the wine shop door to Bryan's. And he's in his suit and tie (TO GO GROCERY SHOPPING!) and he's introducing himself to a Hawaiian-shirted proprietor, saying, "My name is Stephen, by the way, I'm a sommelier in Las Vegas." I'm sorry, but like being a sommelier in Vegas is some sort of challenge? Most of the people there are so eager to get wasted, they don't care what sort of rotgut you pour down their throats just as long as it works. I know Nobhill (where Stephen works) is a Michael Mina establishment -- he of the ridiculous $75.00 Lobster Pot Pie at the Bellagio -- but still, come on. You know what would be a challenge? Being a sommelier in wine country where people know their shit from their Shiraz and you have to go a long way to impress them. Stephen blusters some more about selecting a wine in his budget, asking if any are open for tasting, and then undertaking the important task of "educating" his fellow competitors. Lisa notices how Stephen holds the wine in his mouth, which Stephen calls "retro-nasal tasting." He's not wrong, but he's still a condescending dicksmack.
Elimination challenge. After a brief Kenmore Elite and Calphalon commercial from The Katie Leebot, Colicchio tells the group that they'll be cooking their signature dishes for each other. Both Candice and Tiffani are confident in what they'll, quite literally, bring to the table. The chefs are separated into two groups, the red group and the blue group. When one color cooks and presents, the other team tastes and insults.
Flurry in the kitchen. Candice is making a chicken-shiitake roulade, and trots out the fact that the eye eats first so everything has to look good. Sort of the story of her modeling life, no? Actually, there's no point to describe all the dishes here since I'll just be doing that when they present to the tasters. More with the personalities -- Dave thinks his dish kicks ass and he's not crying yet, so bonus! Really, I do love Dave. With that bleached hair and blond eyebrows, he's like a big emotional polar bear. DonKen screams and flicks his knife around and generally makes lots of noise. They all hate him. Except Candice, I think. She smiles and preens herself when she says, "He scares me." I think she wants him. Truth be told, he is a bit hot. However, apparently DonKen's signature dish isn't even his. It's the signature dish of some guy he knows who owns a restaurant. DonKen says he doesn't have a signature dish because he doesn't have a restaurant. I guess he doesn't have any friends either because you'd be making your signature dish for them whenever they came over. "Let's hope they shut up and eat it," DonKen says. I think they're all hoping you "shut up and eat shit." Well, except Candice. Colicchio checks in on the chefs, and Andrea interviews that she's bringing in something that none of the other chefs are bringing: "The ability to move your bowels with vegetables." I have no response to that. Except that maybe she could open a Vegas restaurant called the MBM Grand. Colicchio checks in on DonKen, who goes off on some crack-ass tangent about cooking fish and giving back to the sea and surfing and putting his wet suit on back-to-front and sand between his toes. Colicchio just stands there, a frozen look on his face. DonKen thinks Colicchio is "cool, a real man." Time's up.
The Katie Leebot reintroduces the tasters to Hubert Keller -- whose restaurant she pronounces "Fleur de Leese" instead of "Fleur de Lee" -- and Gail Simmons from Food & Wine. Andrea of the Red Group brings out her dish of shrimp and broccoli stir-fry served on brown rice with a spicy plum sauce. There's also steamed kale with tahini sauce, carrot flowers, and a sesame-maple coleslaw. Andrea leaves. Presumably to take a dump. Her presentation is a mess. It's fine for a dish at home, all piled up and full, but not for a restaurant. Dave presents braised lamb enchiladas with triple chile sauce, handmade tortillas, and "a masher" of black beans and sweet corn. This presentation isn't much better than Andrea's, and I don't think Dave explained what the deal is with the gravy-like sauce on top of the enchiladas. It can't be the triple chile sauce. "Oh, and a chipotle-crema as well," Dave adds. Never mind. Candice brings in her chicken-shiitake roulade with apple tonkatsu sauce, blanched asparagus, wasabi mashed potatoes, and soy-ginger cashews. God, wasabi mashed potatoes is so 2001. The newest wasabi thing is wasabi vodka, get with it. DonKen presents his pan-seared Alaskan halibut on a soybean-scallion-parsley purée, heirloom tomato compote, and fig gastrique (thick, reduced sauce of vinegar or wine, sugar, and fruit). I have to say, fig and halibut sounds odd. Not bad, but...odd. I'd definitely eat it, but I think salmon is a better match for the meaty, rich figs. Halibut has such a delicate flavor, it needs the more delicate touch of citrus, mangoes, or even peaches for a gastrique. Stephen curls his lip. Someday a fisherman is going to snag a nice, barbed hook in that fat curled lip and yank the shit out of it, and when he does? I will be there. Miguel presents his duo of beef: filet mignon and braised short rib with a walnut and candied orange peel garnish. Lisa very nervously presents her chanterelle risotto with pepper shrimp and thyme-infused oil. Oooh, want.
The judges dig in. In the back kitchen, Dave stresses. At the Judges' Table, Stephen whispers loudly to Brian that there's sand in Andrea's kale. Roughage! In the back kitchen, DonKen blusters that if his food is good, the judges have to say it's good. If it's crap, he flips their plate. He does this with a hand motion and sound effects cut in later to make it sound like he actually flipped a plate of food, but since there is no actual plate of food there, it just looks stupid.The Katie Leebot asks Harold what he thinks of the dishes. Harold starts off with Andrea's dish. Tiffani and Cynthia snort and sneer. Tiffani's such a bitch. I won't waste any time hating Cynthia because, one: she's not long for this TV world; two: she doesn't show as much nasty bitchtitude as Tiffani; and three: her dad dies. Harold thinks the kale was undercooked. But if it's totally cooked, you don't poop it out with such gusto! Hey, don't blame me, I'm just reporting what Andrea probably thinks. Harold thinks the broccoli and shrimp are overcooked. Brian mentions that the kale is "just a little rocky" and that the whole dish, while well-intentioned, is a disaster. Hey, don't certain birds specifically ingest gravel to help with digestion? It's the Loon Defense. The Katie Leebot asks for Tiffani's general thoughts. Tiffani was impressed by Miguel's duo of beef: "The three-hour short rib was actually not bad, which was a surprise." You bitch, why was it a surprise? Tiffani also favored Dave's lamb enchiladas. Stephen weighs in on Candice's chicken-shiitake roulade. He somehow manages to swagger condescendingly in his seat and opine, "Definitely an Intro 101 culinary school dish." He also thinks the chicken was overcooked and the wasabi mashed potatoes were "watered-down." Brian, on the other hand, loved Candice's dish. Stephen sneers. Seriously, fishhook, and I'm happy. Cynthia thinks DonKen's fish was overcooked, Harold thinks DonKen is into "fusion...or confusion" (hee), and Tiffani proclaims it "classic bad hotel food." Sorry, I don't agree. DonKen's an asshole, but I don't think his dish is "classic bad hotel food." Classic bad hotel food is dry chicken cordon bleu with garlic-mashed potatoes squirted out of a pastry bag or lukewarm prime rib. In fact, "classic bad hotel food" is pretty much the same as "classic bad wedding food." They go off a bit on DonKen's ego and assholishness before The Katie Leebot asks their opinion of Lisa's risotto. Brian thinks it's done well, considering her lack of experience. Andrea and DonKen's dishes come out as the worst dishes. The Katie Leebot sends the Blue Group off to cook their dishes and turns to Gail, asking what her impression is so far. Gail is not impressed by the lack of original flavors in all the dishes. Colicchio thinks Miguel's duo of beef was the best offering. Keller is bored and hopes the team steps up a bit better.
The Blue Group cooks. Harold promises that the guy who flubbed the Quickfire is not the real him. I don't know Harold, I really wonder if you've got the balls to last this entire competition. Oh, what the hell is Stephen saying now? He's searing a rack of lamb "to the fourth power"? "Four different searing methods," Stephen explains, going on about flavor components and how they work with his Spanish tempranillo wine. "Due to the fact that I am," he reminds us, "a sommelier." FISHHOOK! Cynthia says that Stephen "knows his stuff" in the wine world and is "very much, uh, full of himself." "Stephen is a sommelier, so he's a professional bullshitter," Lee Ann interviews. Love her. "The meal is not complete without the wine," Stephen says, tipping back a tiny taste. I might agree with that on principle but still, HATING him. Tiffani beefs out that she's all focused and intent and zoned and shit when she's cooking: "It's not playtime for me." Is it ever playtime for you, Tiffani? Cynthia dithers and swears and swears and dithers. Harold says that watching Cynthia cook is like watching utter chaos. Cynthia swears and forgets what she needs and then hysterically asks Stephen, "How you doing there, Brian?" Stephen twings and replies, "Stephen?" and knock me down with a feather because he doesn't add, "The sommelier?" Cynthia tells Colicchio that she's not quite sure what she's doing, but she's going with lamb steak and "crazy rice." Colicchio asks what's so crazy about it. You mean, other than that Cynthia's making it? Cynthia says, "Well, you know, it's got all kinds of stuff going on -- it's got the black shit, it's got the brown...it's got the, you know." Yeah, she's a bit batshit. Although, to be fair, when I'm at my worst I tend to communicate that way. I'm all, "I have to do that thing with the stuff, you know?" My husband stares at me and says, "Yeah, I'm gonna need a few nouns."The Blue Group starts plating. Stephen peddles some shit about how it had been more than three hours, so in his opinion everyone should have been more than ready. Brian can't believe that Cynthia is still figuring things out in the last few seconds. Yeah, Cynthia doesn't know what's going on. At the Judges' Table, The Katie Leebot taunts that the last group "had a lot to say about their dishes." Stephen presents his threesome of Colorado lamb with his bottle of wine. He's got a braised short rib, and to that his lamb "seared to the fourth power." It's a rack rib seared in rock salt, then mirin rice wine, then soy sauce, then white miso dressing. His third in the lamb trio is a demitasse cup of lamb sausage and fava bean soup. His whole dish is lined up on a long, narrow, rectangular plate, which is so Jean-Georges 1999. Stephen presents his wine, which he says adds "tannins and acidity and balance" to his dish. Aaaand you can pretty much say that about any good wine. Fucker. Lisa and Gail observe this flourish in raised-eyebrow disbelief. , Tiffani presents her pumpkin-stuffed orange and sage pasta baked in a mini-pumpkin, topped with Parmigiano-Reggiano, and garnished with golden raisins in an apple gastrique. Harold presents his steamed Thai snapper with Brussels sprout leaves, rock shrimp, chanterelles, and fall squash sauce. Yum! Lee Ann unveils a cold smoked sturgeon salad with saffron fingerling potatoes, lemon confit and balsamic reduction. Double yum! Crazy Cynthia presents her "Crazy Rice with Lamb," which she says isn't finished because someone stole her pomegranate. "Oh, wait, I lost it," Cynthia corrects herself... sarcastically? She may be right, she may be crazy, but it just might be a lunatic they're looking for. Cynthia also explains that she made it surf and turf, but it's lamb -- another crazy line of thought I don't follow -- and says, "What the hell, good night!" Oookay. Brian arrives with his char-grilled jerked breast of chicken with coconut mashed potatoes and mango-papaya relish. He thinks they'll find it succulent. All these presentations look pretty good. Even Cynthia's plate seems to have a method to the madness.
Harold interviews that he was impressed with how beautiful Stephen's food looked, and thinks he's got some competition there. The Red Group starts eating. Cynthia interviews that she is pissed at herself and how she fucked up. Dave has a hard time getting out what he thinks of Cynthia's dish. Colicchio tells him not to be shy with his opinions since the last group flayed their stuff. Miguel doesn't like Cynthia's presentation -- we cut to Cynthia looking insane in the kitchen during the cooking time -- but loved Harold's. Lee Anne's dish and Harold's are both highly praised. Turning to DonKen, The Katie Leebot asks what he thinks of Tiffani's dish. He would put it on his (fictional) restaurant menu any time. Miguel's favorite presentation is Tiffani's pumpkin because he never would have thought of it. Pick up a Williams-Sonoma catalog between September and December, Miguel. They think about it all the time. Candice thinks that for personality representation, Cynthia's dish wins with her "Crazy Rice" and how scatter-brained the entire dish was. Lisa thinks Stephen's dish was beautiful, but Andrea counters that too many flavors in the lamb meant she couldn't taste a single one of them. The Red Group is sent back so the real judges can deliberate. Colicchio thinks Stephen and Harold's dishes are clearly restaurant dishes. Keller liked Tiffani's pumpkin, and Gail praises Miguel's popular beef duo. They rag on Andrea's mess of vegetables, and Cynthia's rice for the criminally insane. They also wonder over DonKen's underwhelming dish and overwhelming assholishness and how that affected the other competitors' reactions to it. They agree that if DonKen had presented something awesome, it would have given his behavior a pass, but he didn't. Keller slams Candice's dish by saying it's not a "housewives' competition."The Katie Leebot drones that she thinks they have their decision and calls back Harold, Stephen, and Tiffani. With absolutely zero emotion in her voice, The Katie Leebot congratulates them for being in the top three. All chefs get high praise for their dishes, but the single winner is Harold. Yay! That and Lee Anne's were my favorite dishes. Harold is thrilled and feels he redeemed himself after the Quickfire. In the kitchen, the waiting competitors cheer for Harold after Stephen and his pink tie and awkward hand flourishes present him as the night's winner. Andrea, DonKen, and Candice are summoned to the Judges' Table and are told by the android that they represent the bottom three in that night's challenge. One of them will be eliminated. Gail tells DonKen that there was no continuity on his plate -- it was bland and poorly seasoned. DonKen admits that he wasn't happy with his dish either. Whatever happened to flipping the plate off the table if they didn't like it, O Kenny Boy? Colicchio tells Andrea she had too much produce going on in her dish and it was a mess. Andrea agrees that it looked like a bomb went off on the plate. Or an enema. Keller criticizes Candice's overcooked chicken, which Candice accepts with good grace. A weird Colicchio voice-over tells DonKen, "Ken, based on the dish you presented, we don't think you have what it takes to be a Top Chef. It was bland and, frankly, it just didn't taste good." The Katie Leebot drones in, "Please pack your knives and go." DonKen thanks them very much. They all leave the table.
Back in the kitchen, DonKen announces that the "Paddy from Ireland" is leaving. Some of them pretend to be sad; Tiffani just looks smug and interviews that she knew DonKen would be the one to leave. Dave says that he might be the most relieved that DonKen is leaving: "He kind of took some of my energy and passion [drink!] away because of the attitude." DonKen interviews that he thinks his tongue got him into trouble, "but that's me, I express myself. I'll always be me -- I wouldn't want to be any way else." He's got his health, so he's okay. No, really, that's what he says. Anyway, he's gone, and bravo to Bravo for not keeping him around for the Hateful Jim quotient.
We're sort of off to a slow start here, but the previews promise a delectably ugly season, and we all know they ain't just whistlin' Dixie! Watch this space.