By Chuck
Finally, I can almost tell these people apart. Just in time for Challenge Taco! Reinventing the taco as a fine-dining item understandably strikes many of the cheftestants as stupid -- tacos are, after all, a quintessential street food. Richard's up for the challenge, though, since it involves the word re-invent. His enthusiasm pays off, as guest judge Rick Bayless grants him immunity and the win for a taco reimagineered with jicama shells.
A self-selecting separation into two teams -- Red and Blue -- and an ominously-edited drive kicks off Elimination. Will our plucky bunch get dumped in the ghetto? Heavens no -- it's a lovely tree-lined street eagerly awaiting their annual block party, where adults and children will come together to eat food and be on TV. After raiding the pantries of the neighbors, all Oprah-style (look, a hoarder!), it's back to the kitchen for a relatively sedate prep and cook. The cook-then-transport scenario seems a bit familiar, but each menu contains some dubious choices (that's you, corn dog and macaroni and cheese).
The block party looks like fun -- hell, they have a dunking machine. Team Red keeps it simple, while Team Blue goes upscale -- which, based on the apparent hint offered by a fine-dining taco contest, looks like the wrong choice. Team Red psyches out Team Blue by cooking for everyman, serving their sliders (or America's New Official Favorite Food), and actually having some fun.
But everyman only likes block party food if it's well done, and Team Red's wasn't. Team Blue ekes out a win, but Richard gets nailed for serving a pilaf instead of a paella (really, how dare he?), and Nikki gets slammed for making macaroni and brick. Stephanie pulls out her second win for ingeniously using gyoza in dessert, and becomes the one to beat.
In a particularly brutal losing round, Team Red's Erik gets nailed for soggy-ass corn dogs, Ryan gets nailed for a soggy-ass Waldorf salad, and Zoi gets nailed for a pasta salad that's poor by pasta salad standards, which is actually quite an accomplishment. But it's Erik that packs his knives, reminding us all that when it comes to mangling American classics, a bad corn dog is the ultimate sin.
Morning shenanigans in Chicago -- everyone's dragging themselves out of bed and getting ready to face the day. Amidst some beefcake-lite shots (Spike, Ryan and Dale shirtless), Spike and Andrew play wrassle -- Andrew pops topless Spike with a towel, Spike mimes shoving Andrew's head into the wall. Just two guys having a little bit of innocent fun, as Richard, voice of reality (with a hint of the humorlessness I'm beginning to notice), tells the camera about the seriousness of elimination (it could happen to you!), and helpfully reminds us that "it's all about the food." Spike and Andrew continue to horse around, building to what I can only hope will be a fabulous money shot.
Stephanie's feeling Valerie's absence, and all of the women (at least if Stephanie is their designated spokeswoman) are bummed that they lost one of their own, since "we all just want a woman to make it to the finals and represent." I agree, it would be nice to see a woman win the title. Putting things in perspective, Zoi says "it's not common to have one lesbian in the kitchen. It's not common to have one woman in the kitchen." Wait a minute, isn't that where a woman belongs? As much as I'd like to think she's wrong, that women have made major strides (which they have, as evidenced by the number of extremely well-regarded female chefs, as well as by empirical evidence gathered by myself while dining out), I have no doubt that a restaurant kitchen is still a pretty sexist, chauvinistic place. The biggest struggle, believes Zoi, is "to break people's image of what a chef is."
Andrew, fresh from wrestling (no shuddering finale, alas) thinks the image of what a chef is includes "being an entertainer" -- he's certainly remained true to this line of thought so far, for better or for worse. He feels they're all there to "have fun," as the editors once again place him in opposition to dour Richard.
As the cheftestants assemble in the kitchen for the Quickfire, Padma introduces this week's guest judge, Richard Bayless, "who has done more than any other chef to introduce Americans to fine dining Mexican cuisine," which, I must admit, has always seemed like a bit of an oxymoron to me, kind of like high-end Chinese food. It's difficult to justify paying fine-dining prices when you can get amazing and authentic Chinese and Mexican food on the cheap. But Bayless, with his restaurants Frontera Grill and Topolobampo , has been successful both critically and commercially (he has his own line of cookware, but these days, who doesn't?), so the joke's on me. Bayless, wearing a shirt the color of Japanese eggplant and a meticulously groomed blondish-gray goatee which is a completely different color than his head hair (a generic brown), looks well put-together but there's something about him that creeps me out a little, like there's something sinister beneath that manicured surface.
Back to Padma, who reveals that the Quickfire involves taking a staple of Mexican cuisine and reinventing it as a fine dining dish. "We want you to take on the taco!" enthuses Padma. She then asks Bayless is he serves tacos at his fine-dining restaurant, and when he answers, "We do serve tacos, but with a twist, that's for sure," he sounds like a young boy in the midst of puberty's mortifying voice change, and I'm creeped out a little more. I'm sure he's a lovely man, but his voice grates like the proverbial nails on a chalkboard.
Taking Mexican food -- "about the people, about the streets" -- and making it upscale makes Erik cranky, and I agree with him. The quasi-sociopolitical aspects of his objection add some legitimate depth to my food-based argument above, although if one gets upset every time something 'of the people' gets co-opted for the pleasure of the bourgeoisie, one is going to spend a lot of time getting upset. As the Quickfire begins, there are several shots of the cheftestants cooperating and sharing with one another. Manuel explains, as he shaves off the prickly parts of a piece of cactus, that he's chosen nopales cactus since it is an esoteric ingredient that not may people know how to use (as a fellow Mexican chef, and an actual Mexican, he ought to know how to impress Bayless).
Echoing Erik, Spike flat out refuses to "go to a fine dining restaurant and order a taco," since tacos are inherently street food. He chooses pork for his filling, and vows to keep it real by keeping it street. He'll glance toward the upscale, but he doesn't "want to be somebody I'm not." And you are a man of the people, my friend. Andrew selects plantains and duck and expresses confidence that he will be the Top Chef because of the "random and crazy ideas that pop into my head." It's amusing how many times in three short weeks they've made a point of showcasing the similarity of Andrew's and Richard's attitudes about being crazy and different. While Andrew has grown on me and Richard has -- what, ungrown? -- so far I think Richard has made some bolder choices. Plantains and duck, for example, are a pretty moderate, albeit tasty-sounding combo that could have been plucked from the menu at Asia de Cuba.
Richard, on the other hand, decides that "the buzz word is re-invent" -- see, he's the kind of person that uses the phrase "buzz word" -- and concocts a shell out of jicama. Adventurous? Check. Annoying? Check. Edible? Perhaps. Ryan takes inspiration from San Francisco's taquerias -- and there truly are none finer -- with a pomegranate and jicama salad, and squash tacos. I guess Ryan and I do not patronize the same San Francisco taquerias. He wraps his taco in a piece of paper, as Mark questions the logic of serving straight up street food in a challenge explicitly requiring a fine dining dish.
Manuel presents his taco first -- chorizo with picante verde, cilantro and goat cheese. It looks fine, although the colors appear a bit boiled out, and while he does rattle off a host of Mexican-sounding ingredients (such as epazote) I don't hear him mention nopales, which is interesting based on the airtime given them about two minutes ago. Wonder where they ended up. Padma rightly guesses that "this isn't the first taco you've made" before gliding off to see what Lisa's done.
Undercooked her skirt steak, that's what she's done. And, finally, made a mark -- but not as she hoped. Grilled skirt steak tacos with caramelized onions, pineapple and cabbage slaw look fine and sound better, but Bayless can't chew through the chunk of steak in his first bite, and he mumbles something unintelligible around his mouthful of meat, making Padma cackle and Lisa look like she would give anything to vaporize. Adding insult to Lisa's injury, Bayless appears to belabor the point far longer than necessary by continuing to try to bite the taco.
Andrew's duck breast tacos with plantain jam and cotija cheese look they came off nicely, and he's psyched he made the choice he did, because one of Bayless's "favorite tacos in the world is duck taco." No real feedback beyond that tidbit, though. Erik created a chipotle braised chicken taco with avocado, pomegranate salsa and guacamole -- man, I hope he doesn't plate the food at his restaurant, because plating is not his strong suit. His food never sounds too bad, but everything he does looks like it's been left out for a few days before serving. Maybe all his dishes have really great personalities. Bayless comment on the "very traditional flavors," and moves along.
Spike's got a simple-looking ground pork taco, served with a dollop of tomatillo sauce -- it's plated fancy, but Bayless sees street through and through, which pleases Spike. Ryan's grilled squash taco with stewed chickpeas looks, unfortunately, like it got toilet paper stuck to it on the way out of the bathroom -- and a bit more like a falafel than a taco. Finally, Richard shows off his jicama tortillas wrapped around avocado, papaya, and cilantro stems (now that is indeed a forward-thinking choice). He's made himself an extra taco so he can eat with the judges -- douche -- and while he admittedly seems poised while he explains his dish, he also seems like the kid who sits in the front and always raises his hand. The kind of guy you just want to punch for fun. "When you are unique and different," says Richard, "and there's fourteen people doing something else, it seems like you're taking a big risk." Oh, get over yourself -- that doesn't even make sense.
Bayless screeches that he enjoyed a lot of the flavors, but reiterates that the challenge was all about transforming the humble taco into a sophisticated fine dining dish and seems disappointed that he tasted "a lot of sort of street tacos." Where is the carnitas foam, people? One of his least favorite dishes was Erik's, because "the plate looked sort of like a train wreck." Erik still disagrees with the coupling of Mexican food and fine dining, and suggests that Bayless "can go screw himself." Word. Bayless also had a (literal) "struggle" with Lisa's taco Lisa's inedible skirt -- "if you work with skirt steak you know that you never serve it rare because no one can bite through it." Oops -- guess Lisa didn't get the memo. Finally, Bayless explains that Ryan's paper "bugged me" as completely inappropriate for fine dining. Not one of the lowest-ranked tacos ended up there because of they way it tasted, apparently.
"Top tacos?" asks Padma. Andrew's the first top taco -- he hit the flavors right on, and scored with presentation as well -- "fine dining all the way," pronounces Bayless. Richard's "very simple" dish "tasted like Mexican street food, but the package was pure fine dining." Bayless designates Spike as the author of the last top taco, because "the flavor was super soul satisfying -- it just made you sort of swoon and want to come back for another bite and another bite," which is one of the more florid reactions I've seen to a Quickfire dish. Alas, it's not enough, as Richard wins out over Spike and secures immunity for his innovative thinking and presentation. Spike's justifiably peeved, since his taco hit Bayless in the heart rather than the head, but it will be Richard's reimagination of the taco that lands on the menu Topolobampo. Way to go, brown-noser.
They're not wasting any time this week, as the Elimination starts immediately. Padma instructs the group to divide itself into two teams (Red and Blue) -- once they've polarized along political lines, it's time for a field trip. As several cheftestants make a beeline for Richard, Spike expresses surprise that anyone would want to be on a team with someone who's just secured immunity, if for no other reason that "the law of averages." Spike, he of the keeping-it-real street taco, becomes the de facto ringleader of Red Team, while fancy-pants Richard provides the anchor for Blue Team (due, in part, to his blue apron). Plenty of red versus blue quips to come.
Red Team is Zoi, Jennifer (so for this team challenge, the lesbian couple technically competes with, instead of against, each other), Dale, Andrew, Erik, Spike and Ryan. Jennifer's pleased to be working with Zoi -- "I respect her and she's, like, one of the best cooks I've ever worked with." She kind of has to say stuff like that, doesn't she, if she wants to get laid. Blue Team is Stephanie, Nikki, Antonia, Mark, Manuel, Lisa and Richard. As the (red and blue) Highlanders set off through the streets of Chicago, the groups phone and walkie-talkie and text each other in an attempt to figure out where they're going, and what kind of ethnic food they'll be saddled with, but they clearly have no idea. Watching people mired in an exercise in futility is almost as enjoyable as participating in one.
The mystery destination simply deepens the mystery -- it's a quiet, tree-lined, neighborhood street with nary a strange ingredient (or another person to be seen. Calling Chicago "a city made up of neighborhoods" (my, goodness, how unique!), Padma explains that this particular neighborhood will be having its annual block party tomorrow, and the cheftestants have "to help make it their most memorable yet." And then she says, "Inyourmealstogetherdotcomeliminationchallenge." Excuse me? And then everyone claps and looks really happy. Turns out it's a Clorox thing, it's not mentioned again for the entire episode, and I'm not linking to it. Smiles fade as Padma tells them to expect 40 adults and 70 kids, and then that they won't be shopping for the challenge, "at least, not in the traditional sense."
Instead, they have to go door-to-door and beg for food, like hungry Jehovah's Witnesses. Many of the families "will have supplies" for the party -- oh, how convenient is that? Richard's thankful for his immunity, knowing that he's not the most social person, which at least reveals a degree of self-awareness. He feels he wouldn't react well to "some white coated stranger's knocking on my door and asking if me if he can look in my fridge." Yeah, I'm sure these people haven't been forewarned that fourteen frantic, sweaty reality show contestants will be descending upon them to steal food. Maybe someone will get shot! With that, they're off. Red Team decides they'll go by the name of Team Sexy, which is fine, but I don't have to call them that.
Since Ryan is, in Andrew's words, "a pretty boy and he speaks very well," Red Team sends Ryan as the first wave (along with Jennifer, who is also sort of a pretty boy). The neighbors seem like an affable bunch, especially since they probably got plenty of free stuff for participating, and they don't seem at all surprised to find a gang wearing what closely resemble straightjackets is canvassing the neighborhood. There's even one woman who apparently keeps a camera mounted on the staircase behind the front door. This is Oprah territory, after all -- you never know when Nate Berkus might show up at your front door and desperately need the shot from the rear to tell you that, despite what you may think, lady, those pants do nothing for your butt.
Red Team is the first to score big, at the home of a couple who conveniently returned from the Farmer's Market, like, eleven seconds ago! They've got a stocked fridge, abundant platters of food -- they leave with several overflowing shopping bags (after Ryan accosts the bemused neighbor dude with a California hug). Blue Team, in the form of Nikki and Antonia, find a lot of pasta in the home of a woman with a perma-smile, a thumb-head and a gorgeous range. Nikki plans to make macaroni and cheese, one of her "signature dishes."
Andrew and Spike, "running around like New York City rats," luck into the phenomenally stocked pantry of a woman who Spike thinks might "be saving for a world war." She does seem genuinely concerned about the disappearance of her larder, plaintively asking if she'll get to eat her food tomorrow, sad to see the bounty she so painstakingly amassed decimated in mere moments. They promise her a pasta salad for her troubles, which seems like a very fair exchange. They both have red beards, and they're starting to act like Click and Clack.
As Blue Team's Antonia makes a dash toward one house, Spike announces that "they're cleaned out already," and Antonia turns and walks away. Spike then reveals that, even though he cleaned out most of what they had, there was stills decent amount of stuff left. Whoa, how dastardly. I'm sure he found the only house on the street with a stuffed pantry -- hopefully everyone will have enough food in the end! Spike's "not sabotaging anybody," but he's "here to win," man, and he's not going to play nice either. Feels like they're really struggling for some plot right about now.
Blue Team's talking meat/seafood/rice when Manuel articulates their intention: "take something that people are familiar with and then give it a little wow." Or, as Richard interprets it, "upscale." "Not just hamburgers and hot dogs." Cut to Red Team discovering they have a buttload of hot dogs. Spike advocates sticking to the kinds of food "these" people like (way to keep it real, Spike) and fancying up traditional dishes with sauces. Because these people love sauces -- you can dip stuff in it. Zoi affirms that they're going to focus on "classic Americana," and it's settled. Red represents the values of normal folk, who just want a good burger, and Blue represents the corrupting liberal elite, who like to eat tacos made with jicama shells. And babies. Life is so simple!
Ryan understands the difficulty they face -- their audience may not have the same tastes as the judges, and while they are cooking, in theory, for the Chicago residents, the judges can send their asses home. Elimination day begins early (at least it looks early, from what I understand early looks like). According to Nikki, while it's a team challenge, Blue Team has decided to divvy things up so each person is essentially responsible for single dish. And those dishes will be: paella (Richard), slaw (Lisa), BBQ pulled pork (Manuel), bean salad (Antonia), inside-out cookie (Mark), fruit cobbler (Stephanie), macaroni and cheese (Nikki), and something called a "sexy drink," which sounds completely appropriate for a party that will have 70 children in attendance. It's never too early to learn that drinking is sexy.
Nikki's worried about whether or she can make a sauce that won't coagulate with the industrial size blocks of Velveeta she found lying around in someone's pantry (actually, that may not be too far-fetched). Richard babbles on about needing to be himself through paella and about how serving paella at a block party makes him a visionary. Offering his take on the resident/judge conundrum, Richard reveals that he's cooking for the judges, because "if food is good enough for those four, then 150 people should enjoy it as well." Cunningly phrased, you snob. As she pulls bits of fried goodness from the fryer, Stephanie explains that she's the mastermind behind the idea of using gyoza wrappers, fried in Mexican cinnamon and sugar, as the base for the fruity dessert.
Over on Red Team, Jennifer is working with a large amount of ground meat as she elaborates on their menu: sliders (Jennifer), corn dogs (Erik), pork skewers (Dale), sangria (Andrew -- something boozy to woo the adults), Waldorf salad (Ryan), pasta salad (Zoi), taco salad (Spike), and s'mores. Erik feels bad because Zoi got stuck with "the shit end of the stick," or pasta salad, and Zoi acknowledges that she believes a pasta salad is not gong to win Top Chef. Maybe so, sister, but right about now you best be working your ass off on a mind-blowing pasta salad.
Colicchio wanders by and wonders what, exactly, Blue Team, makes a drink sexy. Lavender, simple syrup, fresh-squeezed citrus, and on-site carbonation. Yes, asks Tom, but what's sexy about it? For Nikki, it's lavender. Whatever one may think about lavender, I just can't believe there's no booze in it -- that's just not sexy at all. Erik expresses comfort with the corn dog -- he does a lobster version at his restaurant, and, speaking for Red Team, emphasizes that this challenge is a real team effort with everyone offering honest feedback on each dish. When Colicchio asks about Ryan's Waldorf salad, Ryan explains that while his grandmother would have chosen mayonnaise (there it is again!), he's going with a white balsamic base instead. Colicchio: "Funny thing is, the mayonnaise is what keeps everything fresh." Ryan: D'oh. Jennifer: "Uh, we, uh, roasted some apples . . ."
As the teams scramble to pack everything for transport, Nikki worries that her macaroni and cheese is going to sit twice before it's served, and Erik worries that his corn dogs will get soggy in their box. The ghost of Valerie's ghost moves through the kitchen, silently imploring her fellow cheftestants to please, please consider logistics as well as ingredients when planning menus, because last week's episode was terribly boring, and this one looks like it's headed for the same riveting conclusion, where the losers will get harangued for being stupid and choosing dishes that simply didn't work under the circumstances and blah blah blah.
The block party itself looks pretty fun in a nostalgic sort of way, with brightly colored flags strung from tree to tree, plenty of people milling about, and a dunker. I haven't seen a dunker in a long time, and I had no idea how much I've missed them. The teams arrive, with a paltry twenty minutes to set up, and neighborhood factions, according to who gave food to whom, form before service even begins. Politics can be so divisive.
Then, of course, the problems begin. Erik's corn dogs are soggy, but not so bad that they "were going to throw them out and not serve them," since the neighbors had given them so many hot dogs. Right on. As Richard expresses confidence in the freshness and quality of their food, Nikki discovers that her macaroni and cheese has completely dried out -- yup, it looks shellacked. So she begins freaking out and dumping dairy into the pans wherever she can find an opening. Antonia must be feeling pretty good about her bean salad, because she kind of dismisses Nikki's worries with a shrug.
The four judges arrive -- Padma, Colicchio, Bayless, and Ted -- as service begins. Blue Team's plating everything for the guest instead of serving buffet-style, because they want to deliver the best experience, which is a nice touch. Red Team's service is less formal -- Andrew thinks they better connected with the general vibe of the neighborhood and the party.
Individual dish viewing begins with Blue Team and Richard's paella with clams, oysters, sausage and shrimp, which looks like paella. Ted expresses relief that he "got some sausage in there somewhere." Heh, he said sausage. comes Manuel with a barbecue pulled pork and chicken sandwich, and ribs with Mexican chocolate barbecue sauce, and Stephanie's mixed fruit crumble with cinnamon sugar wontons. "I like that," says Ted, and Padma giggles because he's being far too nice to everyone.
Bayless and Colicchio team up to render judgment on Blue Team's other dishes: the macaroni and cheese topped with bacon and breadcrumbs, chocolate chip cookies rolled in Oreo cookie crumbs and decorated with smiley-faces made from Oreo goo, and the sexy drink, now made with citrus, pineapple, mint, lavender and soda. Stephanie laments that the judges just take the food and run, so they never know what they're thinking. Cleary she didn't speak to Ted.
Who's with Padma, beginning the assault on Red Team's table. Taco salad with chorizo, avocado, shrimp, jalapeno, cabbage and lime dressing; mini sliders with bacon and provolone cheese sauce ("grilled," verifies Ted); grilled pork skewers with pineapple and smoked red curry barbecue sauce (yum); and s'mores on a stick (Padma drops half of hers on Ted's shoe). Red Team definitely seems to be having more fun -- they're animated, working the crowd. Spike feels his team is "more charismatic" than the others, and there's a general air of confidence. Colicchio and Bayless sample the Waldorf chicken salad; corn dogs with pomegranate ketchup and spicy mustard; and a huge dip bar (a dip bar?) with lots of condiments and side dishes and sauces and the dreaded pasta salad.
Before the judges weigh in, the neighbors have a chance to offer their feedback -- Red Team's skewers and sliders get high marks, while the corn dogs were, all together now, soggy. Blue Team's paella didn't sing, but their dessert was "to die for." Red Team unwinds with some basketball and beer, while Blue Team gives them the evil eye, expresses some concern that Red Team's festive attitude might signal that they "demolished us," and sneers that "little hamburgers aren't that great." Well, that was just Richard. And people really like little hamburgers, you snob. Red Team thinks they performed as well as Richard thinks they did, hamming it up with the kids and connecting with the neighborhood.
Back at HQ, Red Team's still feeling good, so they're a bit surprised when Padma appears and asks for Blue Team at the judges' table. No one, of course, knows what it means, but first called is often best, and Andrew starts to get a little defensive. Spike tries to reassure his comrades, but it doesn't work.
Blue Team looks squeamish as Colicchio explains that it was a close race -- there were things the judges disliked about both groups and, "considering the first two challenges, I was expecting a lot more from this team." Ouch. Nikki explains that they worked as a team, with no designated leader, and the she did the macaroni and cheese. "I feel like you didn't know how to use that Velveeta," Bayless chimes in. Despite how good it may have been initially, "it formed a brick." Colicchio questions Richard about the paella -- which wasn't a paella at all, as it was lacking a "crusty top and crusty bottom" (Colicchio looks around the room when he says that, so it's not just me). Richard made a pilaf, Richard made a pilaf! Oh, it tasted just fine, Colicchio concedes when asked, but "I want to know if you know the difference between what a real paella is and . . . something else." Like a stinking pilaf, you pointy-haired ninny.
Stephanie "conceptualized the dessert" and "helped with the drink," which doesn't sound like much, but Padma sexily reveals that they "loved the drink" and puts Blue Team out of its misery by announcing that they've won the challenge. Nikki's safe, but she needs to step it up a notch if she wants to stick around. Antonia's bean dish gets honorable mention, but Padma pronounces the use of the gyoza wrappers "genius," Tom cites dessert as the reason Blue Team won, and Stephanie gets the overall win (for what was clearly a larger role than I thought). She looks really surprised, which is ingratiating whether she means it or not, and she's now by far the likeliest contender for first female Top Chef. Then again, we really haven't seen much of the other women yet. Colicchio harshes their buzz by reiterating that, while they did just manage the win, their effort was an overall disappointment.
Still a bit shaken, Blue Team lets themselves start celebrating the second an even more shaken Red Team leaves the back room for the judges' tables. Calling them "the weaker team in this challenge," Padma wonders if they know why they lost. Ryan doesn't know, but Spike "thought we kicked their ass, to be honest. "You didn't," fires back Padma. First problem? The soggy corn dog. "A universal disappointment," says Bayless. Wow, that must have been a really, really bad corn dog. There's another déjà vu moment as the judges discuss the merits of pre-frying and transporting corn dogs -- this show is slowly morphing into an educational show for people who attend lots of pot luck events -- thanks, Glad! If, asks Ted, everyone from here to Calcutta knows not to tote corn dogs hither and yon, why doest thou so? Zoi explains that they very much wanted to cater to their audience, "to middle America, block party, kids," which apparently cannot be done without a corn dog.
"That's fine," responds Tom, "but does that mean you should dumb down what you're doing?" A particularly stinging accusation for Erik, defender of the people, and I'm not so sure it was a dumbing down as much as it was a dumb choice, but whatever. Point made. Speaking of Middle America, Ted would like to speak of the Waldorf salad, which Ryan believes stood up to the heat and the length of the day -- he kept all the ingredients separate and "put it out in spurts." I'll be starting junior high in the fall, thank you very much. Unfortunately, says Bayless, while Waldorf salads signify "crunch and crisp," Ryan's excess of chicken made everything -- uh oh -- soggy.
Spike takes this opportunity to assail the judges as "four people on the panel that have very good palates, intense palates, and you can taste food better than others." Jennifer backs him up, asserting their commitment to "cooking for the neighborhood." They're treading a very a fine line here, which Ted immediately seizes upon by schooling everyone that "whether you are making a jelly doughnut or sous vide duck breast, I think we can still tell whether it was done as well as it could be or not." And even though Zoi claims they didn't dumb anything down, this new line of defense says otherwise. Spike's not giving up, though, now trying to climb out of the hole by bringing up the collaborative nature of the team, that everyone tasted everybody else's dishes and provided input. If they all tasted Zoi's pasta salad, says Tom, then "you guys collectively have really poor palates." Bland, oily and flavorless, it sounds like too many of the pasta salads I've endured in the past -- but it can be awesome, and Zoi should be just a little ashamed of standing up for the common people and then showing such disdain for an American staple.
Erik steps in to defend Zoi since she didn't want to make the pasta salad in the first place, but that's entirely beside the point. Bayless comments on Red Team's camaraderie, but sees a downside in all that teamwork, since dishes seasoned by committee tend to have less flavor, since no one wants to be too critical. Now Andrew enters the ring, refusing to believe that their effort could have resulted in a loss. When Colicchio reminds him that someone from Red Team is leaving, Andrew gets a little aggro, claiming that, "As far as me going home right now, you'd have to drag me out with security guards, more or less, 'cause I ain't going nowhere. This is my house." At least that would be kind of interesting to watch, which is more than I can say for this season.
After shipping off Red Team to stew in anxiety, the judges seem bemused by just how surprised Red Team was by their loss. Ted and Bayless poke holes in the condescending "cooking for the people" defense by sagely reminding us that good food sells to everybody. In weakest dishes round, Bayless rehashes Ryan's watery mess of a salad, Padma, sounding like a non-English speaker (or a robot) who's simply memorized dialogue, "The other really big clunker on that table was the corn dog." Ted liked its looks, but it did not deliver good mouth feel, and the pasta salad couldn't stand up to your garden-variety grocery store version. And, opines Ted, even if Zoi didn't want to make the damn stuff, she should have given it her all.
Meanwhile, Zoi's still upset that she got stuck with the pasta salad, and makes sure her teammates knows that she's upset that she didn't fight to jettison the dish in the first place, rather, apparently, than the fact that she delivered a bona fide stinker. Jennifer tries her best to look comforting and supportive, which generally entails looking mildly confused and apprehensive.
After revisiting the three most horrid dishes, Colicchio bluntly dismisses Erik's corn dogs with "it shouldn't have been done." Although the head judge has delivered his verdict, Padma proceeds with formality by telling Erik his time has come. Sad but resigned, Erik reveals that he'll most miss "the camaraderie that I made with sixteen phenomenal chefs here." I can't say I'm sad or surprised to see him go, but he seems like a genuinely good guy, and the rest of the cheftestants dig him. Especially Zoi -- it totally looks like they make out when they hug goodbye, as Jennifer watches, but making out is nothing if you've bonded over soufflé.