By Chuck
Ming Tsai and his choker join Padma for the Quickfire challenge -- a blind taste test in which each cheftestant must showcase their refined palate by selecting which of a pair of ingredients -- butter, caviar, crab, syrup, sake, soy sauce, etc. -- is of higher quality. With only six out of fifteen, Stephanie ends up at the bottom, while Antonia wins with a solid twelve. Ryan and Jen tie for second with eleven, and Zoi gets all pissed that she got beat by her girlfriend.
For elimination, four teams of three (based on the four elements -- earth, water, fire and air) will cook the first dish at a fundraiser dinner with for 80 guests and an unidentified assortment of celebrity chefs. On Team Fire, Dale and Lisa butt heads while Stephanie watches and worries; Mark joins Team Water with Richard and Andrew (working together again). On Team Earth, immune Antonia works with Zoi and Spike, which leaves Ryan, Jen, Nikki, and Water.
Team Fire extends its allotted fifteen-minute planning period, dramatically racing around Whole Foods before finally settling on spicy shrimp with a chili salad. Enhancing the feeling of déjà vu, Richard, acting as executive chef of Team Water, decides to cook salmon (sous vide) with faux caviar. Team Earth selects a beef Carpaccio with mushrooms, while Team Air goes with duck breast. None of which, except the shrimp, work out very well.
Lisa wins the challenge for doing something with bacon that Ming has never seen. Out of nowhere (or from the stipulated charity purchase made by Top Chef in exchange for inclusion in the event), Lisa also wins a five-day Italian getaway, which irks Dale since all she did was make bacon.
Richard falls flat for serving salmon with scales on it, and tools out during judging when he tries to pretend he didn't know they were there. Team Earth's dish was the least favorite of both the guests and the judges, however, and they get savaged for allowing someone with immunity to dictate the choices.
Though Colicchio wants to send both Spike and Zoi home, it's Zoi that goes packing for underseasoning her mushrooms, and all the pent-up lesbian drama fizzles out. So it was all about gay dignity in the end (a gay couple can be professional and competitive!). Oh, and all that yelling they promised last week? Doesn't even happen until after the loser has left the building.
As the morning routines commence (exercise, knife sharpening), Antonia's still focused on the night before, and feels that being in the bottom with Zoi "was just such shit." Zoi, ever the optimist (heh), believes that she deserves to be there, and wants to stay positive instead of stewing over what she too believes was an unwarranted trashing. In a way, thinks Zoi, that kind of criticism can be helpful, as it "lights a little fire under your ass."
Jen, ever the devoted girlfriend, comes to Zoi's defense, testifying to her "talent and skill" and admits that as a "fan," she gets bent out of shape when she feels like Zoi is being unreasonably attacked. Based on Zoi's performance to date, Jen must spend a lot of time being bent out of shape. It was a quick morning at the cheftestant house, and as the gang takes off for the kitchen, Ryan helpfully reminds us that two men and two women have been eliminated.
This week, Ming Tsai, owner of Blue Ginger Restaurant, host of Simply Ming, and user of ceramic knives, brings his ugly choker to join Padma, eschewing blue for a black blouse with puffy sleeves, as guest judge. I think Ming's great -- I like the premise of his show, where he chooses one master ingredient and makes several dishes with it, and his food always looks great, although Ming himself is looking a tad bloated. As Lisa explains, "Ming is best known for his east meets west cuisine," and, as she loves his food, she's "all grins," which, if indeed that were the case, would be a nice contrast to her shit-smell mask (but, even all grins, Lisa looks like a sourpuss).
"Good taste" sums up this week's Quickfire, explains Padma, droning that "one of the most important weapons in a chef's arsenal is his palate," cleverly letting us know where the palate is by sleepily raising a finger toward her lips. Ming jumps in with this pearl of wisdom: "If you can't tell what tastes good, then you shouldn't be cooking." In order to ascertain how "truly sensitive" each cheftestant's palate is (and here Padma whips out a black blindfold, acting like it's something naughty and inspiring giggles all around), it's time for a BLIND TASTE TEST! "If I was standing on a couch I would be jumping up and down," says Antonia. OK, really, who measures their level of excitement by imagining being a batshit-crazy Tom Cruise on Oprah? I suppose it's a fairly exact expression of, uh, insane enthusiasm, but it's disarming that Tom represents her go-to place when something strikes her fancy.
Anyway, imaginary couch jumper Antonia has loved the annual blind taste test since the show began, and she's ready to kick some ass. Padma explains the Chicago twist for the challenge: the blindfolded cheftestants will taste pairs of items -- "one will be a high-end gourmet version, and other will not." They will have twenty seconds to identify which is the higher-quality version, and the winner will once again receive immunity.
Andrew, taking his turn as master of the obvious, explains that "if you can't season properly, if you can't taste what good food is, you suck, but if you're blind it's really hard to do." I'm thinking that, although I am sure there are some talented sightless cooks out there, and a bevy of tools to help, being blind would make just about every aspect of cooking more difficult. I'd love to see an entire "blind" challenge, where everything from shopping to cooking to plating to serving was done blindfolded. Hell, how about an entire season?
Ryan goes first, striding toward the metal-topped table and confidently extending his hand toward Ming. I can't decide if Ryan is cute or not -- he seems like a bit of a dunderheaded doofus, but every now and again he looks kind of hot (not that those two things are mutually exclusive -- no, not at all). Padma administers the blindfold, and start Ryan (who, breakfastless, believes his palate is currently "really good" and sees a "chance to shine") with maple syrup -- one that costs $2.99 a bottle, and one that costs $8.99, which looks slightly lighter in color that the cheap stuff. Ryan guesses correctly. comes bacon ($15.99 and $3.99 per pound), which Ryan also nails -- and then he's finished, seemingly pleased, and we're led to believe he did fairly well.
Stephanie, the "chef with a big puff of hair," gets the blindfold , and her first item is crab -- fake-looking stuff that sells for $4.99 a pound, and fresher meat that doesn't have that garish pink color and goes for $24.99 a pound. She tastes the cheap crab first, and then (if the editing is to be believed) puts the expensive crab in her mouth and looks like she's about to puke -- maybe the aftertaste of the junky stuff overwhelmed the better version, or maybe Stephanie is not a fan of crab, but (needless to say) she makes the wrong choice. Bad Stephanie.
Dale's , then Lisa, who's a "little bit shaky," quite literally, as she knocks over the bottle of water provided to cleanse palates between bites. Padma jumps back like Lisa's poured gasoline on the table, but Ming diffuses the situation by telling Padma that "it's okay, it's just water." I would not want to be the one to spill something on Padma. She's got definite Naomi Campbell potential. Various shots of the cheftestants and the item pairs, as voice-overs explain what to look for: with chocolate ($1.00 and $8.00 per bar), says Dale, "I'm looking for a high fat content, something rich, I'm looking for a bitterness." Bingo, Dale! Lisa misidentifies an item and opines that "this entire thing would have been easier without a blindfold on." Yeah, well, then it wouldn't be that much of a challenge since, as Lisa goes on to explain, you can tell a lot by sight. She correctly identifies the better butter ($9.00 and $4.00 per pound) and cheddar cheese ($18.99 and $2.99 per pound) -- which both do look markedly different -- so just quit your whining, okay?
Dale, nailing the soy sauce and the sake, "got all of the Asian ingredients right," which pleases him, but, after explaining that he has loves and has "boughten a lot of caviar," picks the eggs that sell for $2.99 an ounce as opposed to the ones that go for $17.00 an ounce. That "killed" him. But how about boughten? That mouth may be a somewhat adept taster, Dale, but it doesn't speak very well at all.
Nikki, Andrew, Antonia and Spike follow in rapid succession, and then Jen bites into pork two ways -- $24.00 per pound (damn, that is really expensive) and $6.00 per pound, which looks rather pale and slick, and chooses correctly. Mark gets something wrong, Richard gets something right, which looks to be olive oil ($3.99 for 750 milliliters versus $25.00) -- after he extols his "great" hands, his "good" skills, and his "sound" techniques, he says that if one is "in the bottom three in this challenge I think it's a big embarrassment." As much as I would love to see Richard lose this one, I don't think it's going to happen.
Antonia believes that her "palate is very, very good," and takes the time (well, as much time can be taken in twenty seconds) and the fingers to do the job right, using different fingers and taking meticulous sips of water between each bite to make sure that "I'm not cross-contaminating flavors." The sake ($72.00 versus $5.99 per bottle) apparently doesn't throw Zoi or Nikki, but manages to stump Andrew, who, when asked by Padma if the challenge was harder than he expected, sums it up quite nicely with an emphatic "Hell yeah."
Turns out there were fifteen ingredients in all, and Stephanie, who raises her hand even before her name is called, knows she's performed the worst, with a measly six correct answers. That's interesting, since, sodden crab salad aside, she's been close to the top each time. No clarification on whether she thinks she's got a bum palate or if the number of "incorrects" lobbed at her during the challenge simply led her to assume she'd bottomed out -- she does admit that "I suck at Quickfires," though, so maybe she just assumes she'll lose each week.
Ryan and Jen tie for second place with eleven right apiece -- Zoi confesses to feeling "a little irritated that Jen beat me," since she wants bragging rights, but since it was only by one point, it's negligible. So that's what Jen gets for repeatedly jumping to Zoi's defense -- real classy, babe. I'm sure she was answering a specific question, but there are ways, you know.
Antonia and her superior palate win the challenge with twelve correct identifications -- which she calls "a great number." Richard, at least, doesn't place, which must eat him up inside. I'd be curious to know who got what right and wrong, and what the full list of ingredients was, but then, upon further reflection, I'm sure I could find those details fairly easily, and I realize that I actually don't care that much at all.
From what, specifically, will Antonia have immunity? Being sent home for fucking something up at -- get this -- The Meals on Wheels Chicago Celebrity Chef Ball. They may lack money, but clearly not words. Meals on Wheels is an excellent charity organization that delivers meals to housebound elderly folks, so it's fitting that their fundraiser should involve good eats. I spent some time delivering meals for a similar organization in San Francisco, and was once greeted at the front door by a man wearing nothing, and holding a pillow over his bits -- and nothing else. I was mighty glad the meal was in a cooler and could be carried with one hand. "Chicago's best-known chefs," according to Padma, will cater the second through fourth dishes of the evening, while Chicago's least-known chefs will "set the tone for the entire evening by creating the very first course."
"Keep it simple, and execute it perfectly," advises Ming. "Taste, taste, taste -- and that comes from your palate." And don't cook any buh-linis, corn dogs, or macaroni and cheese! Although I would love to see the faces of the (presumably upscale) charity diners upon being served a corn dog as their first course. Padma explains that the theme of the party (oh, brother, there's another damned theme -- I guess you can't throw a fundraiser these days without a theme -- it's like prom for old people) is the four elements, and that the cheftestants will be working in four groups of three, with each team devising a dish inspired by one of said elements: Earth, Water, Fire and Air. Oh, and there are 80 guests, so it's another large-volume assignment, this time with a high-end flavor.
Knife-drawing places Antonia, Spike and Zoi on Team Earth; Richard, Andrew and Mark on Team Water; Lisa, Stephanie and Dale on Team Fire; and Ryan, Jen and Nikki on Team Air. Richard and Andrew are working together again! Padma gives the teams a scant fifteen minutes to plan their menus, which is absolutely not enough time. Richard, doing his best Debbie Downer face, agrees, especially when cooking "at this magnitude and this volume."
Predictably, Richard immediately starts acting like executive chef and offers the idea of raw fish -- Andrew, having worked with Richard before, and before, understands this tendency and says, ambiguously, literally, or sarcastically, "it'll be fun dealing with that." Jen, showing off her cognitive skills, reveals that "air, to me, right away, is birds," and suggests a chicken or a duck mousse, which would be an airy treatment of an airy animal, although Nikki thinks the bird idea might be too literal. Maybe some airy pasta, Nikki?
Spike's liking the idea of butternut squash soup, but Antonia doesn't think that soup will provide a good reflection of their $500 budget. She has a point, I guess, but you could spoon some caviar (hey, Dale thought the $2.99 an ounce stuff was good enough) and crème fraiche on the top to gussy it up a bit. "If you two are totally into soup, I will make a fucking good soup with you," says Antonia, acting the team player, but making her opinion abundantly clear. Zoi buys her argument, and, over Spike's continued objections, meek though they may be, it seems that Team Earth will not be cooking soup.
Confessing to "feeling a little vulnerable," since if they go down, it's either him or Zoi that will take the bullet. Antonia's pushing Carpaccio as a better way to create the feeling of money on a plate. Which segues nicely to Team Fire, where, after Stephanie suggests using fire-based cooking techniques, Dale wonders about "a seared beef tartare," which Lisa immediately shoots down. Dale persists, though, expanding his vision of beef tartare to include a deviled egg (which is a cute idea) wrapped with the piece of meat (which seems like it would be a bitch to achieve with limited time and a lot of guests). Stephanie digs the egg idea, but Lisa stands firm, and Dale expresses a growing concern about Lisa -- he thinks "she's a negative person" and thinks he's "not going to be able to work with her very well." Conflict-avoidant Stephanie agrees -- referring once more to Lisa's "strong personality," and mentioning that Dale is a "self-proclaimed asshole."
As everyone heads toward the store, Lisa's still harping that, while Dale and Stephanie seem pleased with their idea, she wants "to change the dish entirely." And she does not seem like the type to back down without a fight -- bring it on! While $500 and 45 minutes at Whole Foods sounds like an ample amount of money and time, I'm sure both will disappear quickly. Team Water heads immediately for the fish counter -- as they discuss which sort of fish to use, Richard mentions that he likes "the idea of fish cooked in water," which does make a nice double play on the theme. They'll be cooking sous vide, or, as Richard explains, "poaching the fish in a controlled water bath." Their fish of choice? Salmon, adding to the feeling of déjà vu surrounding the Richard/Andrew re-team. That strikes me as a pretty dumb choice -- it's like Rami endlessly draping on Project Runway. I can practically hear Nina saying, "We want to see what else you can do."
Team Air gravitates toward duck, which, as fatty as it is, doesn't seem like the airiest of birds, but whatever. Team Fire hasn't gotten very far -- they're clustered in the produce section still trying to figure out what the hell to do. Lisa finds the situation "really, really stressful," and apparently she deals with stress by crapping all over other people's ideas and offering no suggestions of her own. Oh, wait, she likes Dale's concept of spice, but thinks they should "really go strictly Asian." Her argument? "For Ming Tsai, we need to be doing something Asian." I call stupid. Why on earth would Ming Tsai need an Asian dish -- because he can't appreciate anything else? That line of thinking seems more destined for elimination than glory. Ah -- it's the kind of food that Lisa likes to cook, and she wants "to knock his pants off with it." Yes, that's pants, not socks, you dirty girl. They break, still not having any idea what they're doing.
Now it's Spike who's questioning the budget-to-plate conundrum and Antonia's direction of Carpaccio with salad. Don't worry, says she, it's all about the high quality of the mushrooms and the beef. Spike's not convinced, and thinks that, because she has immunity, Antonia "should take just slightly a backseat." He's got a point, I think -- it seems like Antonia is trying to overcompensate for having immunity, trying to show that she cares and that she's still totally committed, but she's running the show when she really doesn't have anything at stake. Then Spike suggests a shot glass of butternut squash soup, as Zoi tries to quash another soup conversation by asserting that whatever they do will be delicious. "Unless you're going to take two women and strangle them, there comes a time that you gotta, just, roll with it and try to do as best as you can." Truer words were never spoken, Spike -- in this world, it's either choke a bitch or compromise.
At the meat counter, Team Fire, inquiring about beef, discovers that Team Earth has beat them to the punch, so it's back to the drawing board, which, for them, involves dumping ingredients into a shopping cart, hoping something will stick. Lisa's getting increasingly tense, but as far as we can tell, she still hasn't made one concrete suggestion, and Dale's getting increasingly pissed that she won't just chill out. Finally, Stephanie suggests doing grilled shrimp with a spicy marinade, which is perfect for the occasion, fits the theme, and after all the drama, seems like a remarkably obvious choice. "The number one goal is to get Lisa on board with the idea, and make her comfortable with the idea" says Stephanie, as I recall how much difficult people suck. But at least Lisa is "mostly confident" at this point, so hopefully we don't have to listen to her whine any more. Fat chance.
This week's cooking takes place in the old Marshall Field's building, and it's mammoth. "You could probably fit Yankee Stadium in that kitchen," opines Mark, as his non-conformist teammates create a workstation far from the madding crowd. Antonia describes Team Earth's dish as "based on ingredients that come from the earth," like beef. Nothing like beef picked fresh from the tree, right? She's working her immune little heart out, cleaning mushrooms and peeling sunchokes, 'cause ain't no one gonna call her a slacker. Spike's slicing the filet and will make the aioli, while Zoi will handle the mushrooms. He's still not happy about their dish, but he's going to do his bestest. Oh, I totally forgot to mention Spike's gay hat in this segment -- it looks like a thatched placemat folded into something resembling a baseball cap. And, as the lovely Sarah Silverman once said, I don't mean gay as in homosexual, I mean gay as in retarded.
Richard's preparing the salmon for its warm bath, as he explains that Mark will be responsible for a parsnip-vanilla puree, and helping Andrew with a salad of watercress and radishes. Andrew's also going to be making "some of his famous tapioca faux caviar" -- really? Really, Water? Really? Are we sure they aren't just serving leftovers from last week's challenge? As Richard stuffs the luscious pink fish into vacuum bags, it looks like new stuff, but I'm not entirely convinced. Richard calls sous vide his specialty, and then proclaims himself "executive chef." Gee, I hope he's learned to trust his palate!
Team Fire's finally got their dish mapped out -- Stephanie's handling grilled shrimp, Dale's making a chili salad, and Lisa's smoking bacon by laying it out in overlapping layers on a large baking tray, with the fatty side of each strip facing in the same direction, "so that when they kind of shrink up they'll kind of fuse together." She'll then cut them into perfect strips and add a miso glaze "that's gonna completely change the flavor of the bacon." Well, isn't somebody suddenly full of ideas? Funny what happens to Lisa once she gets her way with the Asian (and, despite her pants-removal fantasies, I don't mean Ming).
Ryan describes their "version of air" -- "duck breast, herb salad, and we have a shot of prosecco with some pomegranates in it." I don't quite get "air" from that, but whatevs. While Nikki and Jen focus on the duck, Ryan deals with herbs and dressings, as we see him slicing fennel with a mandolin and tapping the seeds out of pomegranates.
Danger alert -- Nikki's infiltrated Lisa's workstation to hijack and electrical outlet, and Lisa's none to pleased. In response to some other grievous slight, Lisa tosses a tray, and Dale bitches about Lisa's bitching. "Observational negativity," he calls her behavior, and says "it's a horrible thing for me to be around." Word. Now the bacon's not working out, which sends Lisa into a paroxysm of cursing, and Lisa, speaking to the camera, officially comes out as "that bitch that everybody hates." We're all several minutes ahead of you, Lisa.
Things are moving quickly for Team Air, as Nikki, perhaps concealing a bomb, or a family of four, in the enormous rat's nest atop her head, muses that Ryan's acting a "little frazzled," a sentiment that proves on the money when Ryan realizes he's used all of the pomegranate juice, presumably in a dressing, even though some of it was supposed to be saved for the prosecco drink -- sorry, the "pomerini." Oh, for crying out loud -- I get that the bubbles create a feeling of air. They need something, right? But a "pomerini?" Lame. They come up with some alternate juice solution that I can't see, and Nikki tells Ryan, oddly, that "when you curse that draws attention to you," just as Colicchio shows up for a bit of snooping.
First stop: planet Earth, where Spike describes working with Antonia and Zoi as "a pleasure" before Colicchio forces them to drop the "it's all collaborative" act and admit that Zoi will be handling the mushrooms, and Spike will make the sunchoke aioli -- but from sunchokes that Antonia peeled! "You can't screw up peeling it," says Colicchio. Antonia suddenly looks pretty clever -- although she devised the dish, she's helping by doing the grunt work of peeling, essentially ensuring that Spike and Zoi will end up holding the bag for any flaws in execution -- and she's immune.
Richard and crew are -- when Colicchio asks what element they have, Richard replies, "Water -- you can tell by the blue aprons." Bien sur, replies Colicchio, with a slight grin that fades immediately into annoyance. Extolling the importance of "a rapport with Tom," Richard lays on the charm, as he explains the dish and wonders aloud, "Who poaches fish anymore?" Colicchio looks confused. "Three chefs in blue aprons." Blank. "We do have Jacuzzi." Slightly incredulous. Acknowledging that he is digging himself a watery grave, Richard laments that "the Richard Blaise charm has just worn off." Yes, Richard, yes it has. God, that was satisfying to watch.
While we don't see Colicchio speaking with the Air-yans, he does offer a to-the-camera assessment of his walk through -- "they didn't really seem to have a clear idea of that dish just yet," which, with an hour left to go, could be a problem. He hopes Team Fire's shrimp won't be too spicy and "ruin everybody's palate for the rest of the meal," while he feels that Team Water seems "a little overconfident, really cocky." That's certainly one way to put it. No words on his impressions of Team Earth.
As the clock ticks, general mayhem envelops the kitchen -- Lisa's cutting her block of bacon, so it looks like things worked out in the end. Zoi wishes there was more time to refine their dish, and says, as she's transferring her sautéed mushrooms from pan to tray, "it's not my restaurant, it's not my plate," and chokes -- I mean, chalks -- it up to an ongoing series of compromises. Her weeks-old bad attitude has gotten pretty stale -- she's definitely dating up.
It's October of 2007, according to the sign announcing the party, in case anyone cares -- lots of white people sit around tables enjoying wine. Gail, returning a judge this week, looks particularly busty in an eggplant dress. As the other teams begin plating their dishes, Team Water's lagging. Andrew and Mark check with Richard to see what they should do, Richard's nervous and looks like he's struggling with the salmon. Mark inquires whether the fish should be served skin up or skin down, and when Richard throws the question back at Mark, he replies "we should have already decided that" before wondering if Richard has the mettle to plate an intricate dish for 80. To make matters worse, they notice the presence of scales on pieces of fish, an error Andrew likens to leaving "a fish head on if you cook a fish," a pointless comparison since leaving on fish heads is done quite frequently.
Poor Colicchio drew the short end of the stick, being forced to stand in the center of the room and thank everyone for allowing Top Chef to participate. I love the fact that none of the other celebrity chefs have been identified, for whatever reason -- in fact, come to think of it, there's yet to be a guest judge from Chicago, which strikes me as a bit odd. I wonder if the other chefs are using the same kitchen, and they managed to completely cut around it. As service is about to begin, Spike asks Zoi how heavily her mushrooms are seasoned. "They're seasoned," she replies, sounding unsure of the answer.
As the judges catalog their first impressions, Gail calls the shrimp "clearly my favorite." She "loved the heat" and "thought it was the perfect first course," while Ming praises the acid from the pickling mixed with the salt from the bacon. Everyone loves the bacon. "Bacon added to anything is not a bad situation," claims Gail, and boy is she right. Regarding the salmon, Ming says the scales "ruined it for me," while Gail feels the choice of cooking method left the salmon textureless. Although Tom "didn't quite get" the duck dish, Gail likes the salad, which she calls "crunchy and flavorful and bright." Which leaves the Carpaccio, for Colicchio "the most disappointing dish of all." Gail criticizes the utter lack of seasoning, which Colicchio reveals "bothers me more than anything else."
For luck, Lisa suggests burning the little card that designated their area and says "FIRE," and as it smolders she expresses confidence in their performance -- great flavor, great technique. Richard, however, thinks Team Water will have their asses handed to them; while he liked the concept, he "wasn't happy with the execution," or himself. As they walk out of the kitchen, I see he's wearing pink crocs. There are so many things wrong with his choice of footwear that I can't even begin to describe them.
It's winners first again -- Padma calls Team Fire to the judges' table. When it's hugs time, Dale dives for Stephanie, and it looks for second like they won't show Dale hugging Lisa, because maybe he didn't, but then they show it. When Gail asks to parse who did what, Stephanie describes the shrimp (Gail: "Spicy, in a good way."), Lisa explains the bacon (pressed and glazed), and Dale doesn't get to say much about his salad. Praising each of them for deftly managing a different component, Colicchio says "it was nice to see that each one of those components really added to the dish."
One more thing, calls Padma. Ming's favorite chef will also win a five-day trip to Italy for two. Looks like Top Chef might have had to "buy" their way into the Meals on Wheels event. Calling it a tough decision, which in this case seems valid, calls Stephanie's shrimp "perfectly cooked," and liked the heat element from the sambal, compliments the acidity of Dale's salad, and tells Lisa that "the bacon with the miso created a new technique that I have never seen." We have a winner! Lisa's never been to Italy, so good for her for winning, and, despite the drama (and the fact that she was Team Fire's most contentious member), she managed to impress Ming, even if he is still wearing pants, although it would be pretty funny, and also possible, actually, for everyone behind the judges' table to be nude from the waist down.
Dale's not so enthusiastic: "She made bacon and she gets a trip to Italy?" Ha -- it's true -- she did make bacon, which is tough to screw up too badly. See, Dale, just how good bacon is? See, Dale, just when it touches your lips? Dale's not having it. "I'm bitter."
After enjoying a smattering of applause from her cohorts, Lisa, with some sort of cutting board or plaque or something, summons Earth (as Jen looks all squinty and mad on Zoi's behalf) and Water. Judging the losers starts with water, where life begins. Richard claims to believe that the salmon was "cooked well and it was moist." "Were you the one who cleaned the fish?" retorts Gail, and then Richard's bullshit fountain really starts working. "In what regard?" asks Richard, as if he doesn't know precisely what's coming. Padma, in a tone often reserved for delivering news of the death of a loved one, reveals that "half the people at our table had scales, including myself, and Ming." Richard has the gall to look surprised, and the judges grind him down by telling him just how many scales there were -- Colicchio? "A LOT." Padma wants to know if Richard was "happy with the texture of the salmon." Of course he was. Colicchio? "MUSHY."
The judges move on to the rest of the plate, as they determine who did what -- Andrew handled the salad and the caviar (there's a great shot of Colicchio giggling when Gail asks if he's made it before -- right before she says it was lacking something, even though she found the technique interesting). As for Mark's parsnip vanilla puree, Colicchio wonders why it was on the plate, rendering Mark speechless. "I'm assuming you put stuff on a plate because there's a reason it's there, so what was the reason for the parsnip on that plate?" Nicely put. When Mark says, "I feel strongly that a flavor like celery or parsnip and vanilla go quite harmoniously with a confit of salmon," it's like Richard reached over, shoved his hand up Mark's ass, and started using him as a puppet (and probably pinched something up there when Mark inferred that Richard did pretty much the same dish he did last week). Didn't do a thing for you, thinks Colicchio.
Antonia's got immunity, which is the only thing different from the last two weeks, since she's been in the losing group in front of judges' table -- that "excellent palate" of hers misled her into thinking the Carpaccio "tasted great." Colicchio disagrees -- "the entire dish was bland, start to finish." After divvying up responsibility -- Zoi did the mushrooms and the salad, Spike (conveying with every inch of his being that he wasn't with this from the beginning) sliced the beef and made the aioli, and Antonia prepped the vegetables. "Every element needed more seasoning," believes Ming, and Zoi defends them as a team, saying they were all concerned about overpowering the meat. And then she makes it all about her and the mushrooms, and how she used rosemary, and how they were delicious during several taste tests, and how she likes to make highly seasoned foods (which I'm believing less and less each time she discusses it). Gail adds the spice of irony (I can't believe I just wrote that) by revealing that all she could taste was rosemary, which she felt was an odd choice for beef Carpaccio. Oops -- when you do use strong flavors, don't use them badly. Looking back, Spike wishes he'd thought to squeeze some lemon juice on the final dish to brighten it up a bit, but hindsight doesn't make anything taste better.
Ever-curious Padma asks about conceptualization, and Spike mentions his original desire to make butternut squash soup, and Antonia explains her adamant opposition and maintains that immunity in no way deter her from expressing her opinions. "Didn't stop you all, actually," cracks Spike, proudly grinning at his big funny. Ming disagrees with Antonia -- "soup is a brilliant dish for 80 people in a banquet. It's the test in France to see if you're a good cook -- make me a soup." So now Spike's going to be all pissed that they didn't make soup, but Antonia did say that she would make a soup if that's what Spike and Zoi wanted -- they were convinced by her argument, and went along. Too bad -- and Colicchio does point out that they're not on the chopping block for choosing Carpaccio, they're on the chopping block for making it tasteless.
Spike chooses to make it about the soup, though -- as they walk into the back room, awaiting the final decision, someone asks what happened, and Spike says, "We should have made butternut squash soup, that's what happened." He's angry that he let himself be led away from the soup -- watch for a new, more aggressive Spike, if he manages to stick around. Richard thinks he's going home for the scales, and while I'd love to see him go, there's no way that's going to happen yet. As Zoi assures Jen that whatever happens will be cool, Jen tells her, "You are someone to be reckoned with. You're an amazing chef," although she's looking away while she says it and it's not nearly as convincing as when she says the same kind of stuff to the camera.
As the judges once again discuss the unforgivability of scale-laden salmon, it looks like Richard might be right -- plus, even though Padma believes Richard was genuinely satisfied (as if there's anything "genuine" about Richard) with the texture of the fish, no one else liked it. But the Carpaccio was the lowest-scoring dish according to the dinner guests. Colicchio would like to send both Zoi and Spike home, for "allowing someone who has immunity to dictate what they were going to do," and Ming calls bullshit on Zoi's "I like highly seasoned food" defense. Colicchio voices his opinion that the "whole dish hinged on those mushrooms" -- and we all know who made those mushrooms.
But before this week's axe falls, Team Water gets chastised for a dish that "didn't work out very well," while Team Earth gets dinged for not bringing much earth to their Carpaccio. After stating that the judges agree with the guests' assessment that the Carpaccio was the weakest dish of the night, Zoi is sent to gather her knives. She's "disappointed, obviously," and explains that she's not really a competitor, which begs the question of what on earth (haha) she was doing there in the first place. Richard's crying, presumably because he's so relieved about staying, and Jen puts on her incredulous face, as Zoi tries to comfort her with a kiss. Zoi's pleased that she got to share the experience with her partner, and "to show people that you can be a couple and be professional and still compete" -- all the implied lesbian drama fizzling . . . uh, turning . . . out to be more about the dignity of gay unions, or something similarly banal (at least where reality TV is concerned -- while it would be nice to see more gay couples on television, this whole plot thread was pretty much a dud).
As Zoi leaves to a round of applause (headed back to her San Francisco support network), tensions suddenly erupt -- Spike lashes out at Antonia for spearheading the Carpaccio fiasco, flatly refusing to remember her offer to make soup if that's what everyone wanted. "Stand behind your dish," Antonia keeps repeating, as Spike tries to revise history and turn himself into a martyr. Jen jumps in, dissing Spike for putting his teammate "in the ground," and they get into it, with Spike being a classy gent and telling Jen (now dealing with the sudden absence of her girlfriend) to "cry over it all night long." Then Dale has to say something, and Lisa tells him he's just making things worse, which drives Dale to unleash all the frustration about Lisa's negative attitude that he's been bottling up -- screaming at her because "you get to bitch and whine about everything" plus she feels like she can call Dale out the second he says something, all the while cupping his crotch in a strangely infantile and discomforting manner. After clapping her hands a few times, Jen kicks over one of the folding chairs in anger, and it hits the wall, capping one whole entire minute of shouting with a loud, metallic period. Anticlimax much?