By Chuck
It's almost just about to start maybe being a challenge between possibly talented cooks, but first it's about beer. And food that goes with it, in pairings designed for an individual beer (three tasted, one chosen, from a splendiferous wall of pitchers). A gregarious, long-winded Chicago chef (nice to see they've finally started sourcing local) joins Padma for first-round judging, which puts Jen on top with Land Shark and shrimp and scallop beignets. While Zoi herself may be gone, her spirit lives on, as Jen delivers the not-at-all-groan-inducing news that she'll now be cooking in her departed lover's honor.While the Quickfire speaks to the quiet complexity and sophistication of beer, the Elimination nods to beer's boisterous public persona. It's an individual challenge, with each cheftestant cooking a dish for a Chicago Bears pre-game tailgate; the tailgaters, not the judges, will choose this week's winners.
Armed with a grill (Mark chooses charcoal and makes a mess of his work, while everyone else chooses the more consistent gas option), the gang dishes out a generally safe array of ribs, wings, chicken sandwiches, sausages, and burgers (although Richard has to make a pun and calls his burger a paté melt). Nikki runs out of food before the judges arrive at her table, and Ryan miscalculates how much acting like a douche will compensate for serving poached pears and bread salad to hungry Bears fans.
Although Stephanie shows up on the winning side again, Dale wins for his unusually flavored ribs, and gets one of those fancy grills, which should easily make up for not winning last week's prize, which would have required him to go to the airport. The tailgaters selected the bottom three, but the judges choose the one who leaves. Oh, and the chatty woman judge-chef from earlier has been replaced by her boss-chef, who thinks Nikki should have made her own sausage. She slips by once more, though, as Ryan goes home for failing to grasp the basic tenets of the tailgate.
As day breaks in Chicago, Spike's feeling a bit down because he's heard some "gossip" that plenty of people think he should have been sent packing instead of Zoi, but chalks it up to the others feeling "threatened" since Spike is "a talented dude, and I've got a lot of passion." If by "passion," he means stupid hats, then he's totally right. Calling Zoi "the love of my life," Jen reveals that she really hoped that they'd get to compete for longer -- apparently competing turns her on -- and says that she wants "to win for both of us." She sounds strained and whimpery, like she's really trying to inject some quavering emotion into her words, but it seems pretty insincere. Not the sentiment, necessarily, but the presentation -- Jen must be bummed that she's facing judge-imposed lesbian bed death. Just imagine the night you're reunited, Jen. Chin up.
Stretching in his pajamas, Ryan calls the air "super tense" and says that, for some reason, Zoi's departure "really stirred the pot," and that some people are going to "stew about it." Nice puns, broseph. Ryan hopes this stewage will make others weaker, because he needs all the help he can get, although if the Quickfire is about ham-handed phrasing, then we already have a winner.
Lisa's pleased with her victory, but not the aftermath -- the sight of Dale cupping his testes while screaming obscenities understandably being too much for anyone to handle. Despite her prickly demeanor, Lisa doesn't "want that kind of confrontation." The two adversaries make nice over coffee and yellow Evian; or sort of: Dale says he perceives Lisa as "negative, and I can't handle that." Lisa maintains that, while Dale is entitled to his opinion, she can't change who she is, and they need to learn to coexist. She says, "If you have a problem with me, you need to come to me," nuts in hand. , Dale tries to explain that he's just looking out for Lisa by letting her in on the secret that "some people in the house" are frustrated by Lisa's attitude. Dale makes a point of explaining that he's apologizing to Lisa for his tirade, but not for the fact that he thinks she's a negative bitch (her personality "is a horrible thing to be around"), which at this point is the pot calling the kettle black. Lisa takes issue with the fact that Dale's lackluster apology was offset by strident, and repeated, remarks about her shitty character. Dale, says Lisa, "can go fuck himself." Amen, you totally negative bitch.
As the remaining cheftestants file out of the manse, the camera moves in for a close-up of the eleven ball on the pool table, reminding us how many people are still there (about seven too many), and emphasizing how many more agonizing weeks we have to endure of what, so far, has been a pretty mediocre season.
What alleviates mediocrity? BEER!!! A glorious collection of pitchers -- all sudsy, blond and amber, breakfast of champions -- greets the motley crew as they enter the kitchen. Nikki, talking to the camera and still toting last week's enormous hairball, gets excited because "it looks like fun, and we all need a little bit of fun." What you really need is a little bit of detangler, dear. Padma (wearing a sort of Flashdance meets Women in Cages off the shoulder top) introduces the guest judge for the Quickfire, a woman named Koren Grieveson, the head chef at a Chicago restaurant called Avec, who looks like she might enjoy quaffing a cold one with Jen and Zoi, if you catch my drift. Finally -- a Chicago chef. Stephanie, who's assumed the role of official Chicago gustatory guide, attests to Avec's Chicago location, and its awesomeness.
Padma explains the Quickfire ("this round of the competition is about simple pleasures"), in which each cheftestant must create a dish that pairs perfectly with beer. There are sixteen pitchers; each individual may taste three beers, and then must choose one with which to pair their dish. Stephanie tastes first, and chooses a six pack of Hoegarden, as she explains that, in beer pairings, "you don't want the food to overpower the beer too much, and you don't want the beer to overpower the food." Well, duh. Dale's not overly experienced with beer and food pairings, just FYI. Amidst lots of shots of beer sipping, Mark cops to enjoying a beer now and then, while Lisa, a hearty type whose love of beer isn't a surprise, chooses a Michelob Amber Bock, saying, "I love cooking with beer, I know what this beer goes with, and I know that I can keep it fun." Stop being so fucking negative.
Jen ends up choosing Candygram Land Shark beer and considers it a lucky charm since her "hair is like a shark fin." Call it what you will, but that thing ain't nothing but a fauxhawk. Spike maintains that he's "not a real beer drinker, really," which sounds like hogwash and dents his street cred, and goes on to say "it all tastes the same to me," which is just sad. After a few more six packs -- Bass! Kirin Ichiban! -- the cookdown begins. Richard's strategy, as usual (beyond being a suckwad), "is to take a buzzword of the challenge" -- "simple pleasure," in this case, which is actually two buzzwords, you shark-fin-hatted loser. Instead of relying on cool gizmos and contraptions to combine salmon and root puree, he'll scale it back and "make a good sandwich," which will somehow involve tuna.
Antonia laments that "sometimes the simplest dishes are harder to create," and wants to avoid dumbing down her dish to appeal to her audience. Dale's plan is to roast pork, "put pretzels on it, and gratin it." Pulsing the pretzels in a food processor doesn't work out the way Dale hopes -- it pretty much pulverizes them into dust, as Lisa glances over with a quiet glee. Jen, "a lot more fired up than everyone else," is cooking for Zoi, so maybe she won't use any salt and claim she loves heavy seasoning. I just had a wonderful lunch at Jen's restaurant, especially a delicious hamachi crudo with blood orange and basil -- the experience enhanced my feelings of support for her, but I wish she'd stuff a sock in the all the Zoi chatter. You're a devoted lover -- we get it, that's awesome, Zoi's a lucky lady -- but please remember the power of quietude.
Padma and her ladyfriend arrive to test the pairings, starting with Richard, whose grilled tuna sandwich with pickled vegetables is accompanied by Michelob Ultra infused with lime and cactus, which sounds both horrid and like the perfect beer for Richard. Richard thinks "Koren seems like the type of chef that's a super connoisseur of beer," which is most definitely code for "big lesbian," and when she has nothing to ask Richard, he compliments her "poker face." Poke her face -- hee! I just can't stop with the crummy lesbian jokes this week; I blame Bravo's gay fixation. As a somewhat shrill and confusing poster that once hung in my college eating club blared, "WE ARE ALL ON THE LESBIAN CONTINUUM." Honestly, I don't have the slightest idea what that actually means, but it's fun to say, especially in mixed company. "Thank you," says Koren, with an eye roll that indicates she adores Richard as much as I do.
Andrew landed the pomegranate and raspberry infused Michelob Ultra -- again, yuck -- continuing the disarming Richard/Andrew combo platter thread, and pairs it with rainbow trout with raspberry gastrique and peaches. Koren, a self-professed "acid person," thinks Andrew could have used a bit more to brighten his dish. Hey, more acid could totally brighten this whole season -- can we please have a Quickfire that involves pairing food with the psychotropic drug of choice, which the cheftestants must ingest prior to cooking? Look, I made a peeled grape and cold spaghetti casserole! Feel it!
Dale, with Red Hook ESB, offers roasted pork tenderloin with miso caramel sauce and a pretzel crust, and says, "I've never done this dish before." Hopefully, he will never do it again, as he continues that "it looks like I put raw pretzel dust on top of the pork," perhaps because he did. Koren moves along, poker face in full effect. Antonia made a miso glazed cod (it's starting to sound like a Japanese Brady Bunch in here -- Miso! Miso! Miso!) with sautéed Napa cabbage (can't tell what beer she landed -- oh, I think it might be the Kirin), while for Nikki, "beer signifies fried food." She's paired pan-Asian Tiger beer with citrus marinated fried shrimp and Asian coleslaw for what looks to be a thoroughly boring taste experience.
"Whenever I go out and drink beer, I like to have some mussels," says Stephanie, which is either an exaggeration, or Stephanie doesn't go out and drink beer that often, or she's kind of gross in an OCD way. Whatever the case, her steamed mussels with cilantro vinaigrette and grilled bread (oh, how I adore grilled bread) looks pretty good, if a bit cramped in their small white bowl, and I bet they go well with the Hoegarden. Koren again reveals nothing, which Stephanie finds "nerve-wracking." Mark's paired a juniper spiced lamb rack with honey and beer sauce with very drinkable Stella (a beer I quite enjoy even if I detest the stupid, overlong ads they've been running of late). Koren "can't taste the beer in it," but likes the combination of flavors.
Ryan, with Bass, did something that involves espelette deglazed with beer, crepinette, and lamb, but they don't say what exactly he's prepared, maybe because the producers care even less than I do. Spike, with tons passion and talent on display, dumped a pile of cold cuts, cheese and grapes on a board, called is a charcuterie plate, and added a small bowl of clams for effect. Grolsch deserves better. When Padma asks Koren if she likes clams with her beer (just the bearded ones!), Koren mumbles something about preferring to keep it "straightforward," which I won't touch, and Spike mutters that she "just didn't get the dish, but there was really nothing to get." Exactly, dumbass. Just leave already.
Lisa pairs her Amber Bock with a simple bacon cheeseburger and potato chips, which Koren thinks could have used more heat. Jen takes inspiration from Land Shark's island roots, and goes for a French-Caribbean take on the beignet, with shrimp, scallop, fennel, and avocado and pepper purees. Padma's impressed because the beignets are "still light, they don't taste greasy," even though the Jen visit happens near the end. Koren agrees, and Jen's left feeling good -- she wants to win something, instead of being stuck in the middle.
Koren disliked Nikki's shrimp (too much bread-to-shrimp ratio, not enough seasoning, gah!), Spike's haphazard cutting board ("not really a united dish"), and Dale's pork "wasn't really moist enough" for her to get the flavors (which makes Lisa very happy). Koren praises Richard's "great use of spices" and "bold flavors," and Stephanie's "great choosing" of mussels to pair with the beer, and her use of orange. Her favorite dish was Jen's -- the beignets had "great balance and flavors, great heat, great acidity" and a great ass. Spike, of course, has to comment on Jen's win (which she does attribute to the channeling of her frustration into her cooking) and immunity, envisioning the emotions she must be feeling in light of Zoi's departure and her victory as a great, thrusting fist of lesbian power.
Continuing the theme of "simple pleasures" and, most likely, lots of beer, the Elimination challenge will see each cheftestant preparing a dish to be served at a pre-game tailgate party for fans of the Chicago Bears who, in case you are a total non-sports person like myself, play football. Dale's psyched, as a Chicago native (albeit one who doesn't seem to be sought out for local commentary) and die-hard sports nut, thinks he's got the skills to win, while Mark's only slightly nervous that he's "never played American football," which is okay since he's here to cook. In a slight twist on the norm, the fans will choose the top and bottom three dishes, which the judges will have the final say over who wins and who loses. Even though she's got immunity, Jen wants to win it -- yes, for Zoi -- since "the fact that Spike is still here and she's not is just total bullshit." I agree that Spike sucks, but Zoi totally deserved to go.
Spike, first at the Whole Foods door (where they have $350 and 30 minutes to spend), makes a beeline for predictability in the form of chicken wings, immediately snapping up as many as he possibly can and ensuring that no one else will be able to "wing" it. Thwarted in the wing department, Dale goes for ribs, while Richard, who feels tailgating is "not reflective of my cooking style," goes for 25 pounds of pork from which he will make, recalling a dish from his restaurant which seems no longer to exist (as far as my halfhearted web searching could tell), what he calls "a paté melt." It's "just a little bit more of being a wiseass," quips Richard ("wiseass" is actually related to the word I'd use, which would axe "wise" and add "hole"), as he has to explain that he's punning on the traditional patty melt. JUST IN CASE WE DIDN'T GET IT.
Nikki, pulling a bad Anna Wintour by wearing her aviator shades in the store (long night?), loves comfort food and immediately thinks "sausage and pepper hero" when she thinks football. She also buys shrimp "in case someone doesn't eat sausage," like maybe Jen or Koren. Mark notices that a few people are homing in on the shrimp, which cramps his "throw a shrimp on the Barbie" roots, so he's going for chicken skewers and chowder. Ryan, a self-proclaimed "metrosexual," doesn't like sports and spends his "money on good clothes, I like to go out and dance." Sometimes, when Ryan starts talking, I want to like him for a second, and then he keeps talking, and I just can't. He's going to do it his way -- "California tailgating" -- and knocks fists with the butcher in a way that signifies douchebag the world over, before joking to the clerk that she can put all of his food on Mark's bill. God, it's hard to type when I'm laughing so hard.
Back in the kitchen, there will be two hours to prep, before packing everything for transport to Soldier Field. Andrew -- also not a sports guy, which seems to be the standard refrain for almost everyone, expect Dale -- is one of the shrimp people, and is using bacon, always a surefire hit (at least he hopes so -- just ask Lisa). Stephanie, clutching a handful of bacon as well, explains that she's going to give Chicagoans what they want ("a little more than just your average hot dog or hamburger") by making pork tenderloin with a pear, potato, and bacon salad. Spike, "attacking [his] prep work," shows off his inner nature by manhandling a ton of wings, all enrobed with a bright red spice rub.
Jen, along with Dale, loves football (insert obvious joke here) -- her dad is a huge fan -- and she is making a Greek-inspired dish as a nod to, of course, Zoi. Man, Zoi may be gone, but she will certainly not be forgotten, as broken-record Jen and the producers are going to make us suffer for their disappointment at losing the potential lesbian drama. Jen will be offering tzatziki with chicken souvlaki and quinoa tabouli. Best of luck foisting tabouli on a bunch of die-hard football fans. Ryan, bless his dopey little heart, is making bread salad, chicken thighs, and a dessert of poached pears with crème fraiche, as well as chili-spiced cocoa, which will probably go over even worse than tabouli, as faggy as it all sounds. Richard, throwing his burgers, chortles over Ryan's "five course meal," but methinks that people who serve paté melts have no business throwing stones.
Lisa's bludgeoning a skirt steak, which she'll serve with corn cakes, and which hopefully won't be as inedible as her steak tacos. "Beating my meat," she calls it. Even though high-end Asian is her thing, she knows what grills well based on years of family experience, and thinks she's poised for another victory. Mark loses a fight with a blender filled with a murky brown liquid (and sprays Stephanie in the process) as Colicchio appears for his weekly walk-through. He talks tailgating with Jen ("two of my brothers played football," says she, as she pushes skewers into her chicken); she's feeling more "at ease" since she has immunity. Antonia, "picturing big fat men that like to drink a lot of beer," imagines that a Jamaican jerk chicken sandwich is the key to their hearts.
Dale, native Chicagoan and "die-hard Bears fan," is pumped by the challenge, while Ryan, talking a mile a minute, walks Colicchio through his meal, explaining that it will go over well because "it's simple, it's clean, they won't feel like they're going to be comatose after they're going into the game, it's light, it's fresh, it's something that you want to eat a lot of," which sends Colicchio running for the hills, as prep time inches toward an end and everyone begins packing up their food. Ryan, finally clueing in to his situation, expresses concern that he's bitten off too much.
A race against time becomes a race for space, as the refrigerators and coolers get packed to the gills with Glad products, and some food. As Dale bellows that there's no more space left anywhere, we get a shot of the GE Monogram logo, as if to remind us that even GE Monogram appliances can't handle the entirety of these people. Richard, imagining a cartoon-like situation in which everything tumbles out when a door is opened, secures the refrigerator doors with thick strips of masking tape, and everyone retires to chez Chef for the evening.
Aside from the first night at the house, this is the only time we've seen much relaxation -- the red wine comes out (and it looks like Stephanie might be double fisting). Ever-pensive Ryan scribbles something in a notebook, while Dale chooses to iron his apron instead of chilling with the gang. He calls it "more relaxed," but says it make him even more focused, which he hopes will give him an advantage.
While the lesbian couple has been separated, there's a new gay duo in town -- Spike and Mark share a bubble bath and a bottle of champagne, although, unfortunately, they don't doff their shorts. Mark's working the kind of large upper arm/shoulder tattoo that I would more expect to see on Spike, but he looks to be ink-free; he is wearing his dumb placemat hat again, though. Sadly, says Spike, "no one wanted to join" them, although I'm not sure I could stomach Lisa in a bathing suit, so I'm thankful that she passes. Spike thinks he and Mark, both New York City boys, will love each other longtime -- after all, says Spike, Mark's "got curly hair, he's a cool-looking dude." Just two guys, taking a bath together -- nothing wrong with that! Antonia, invoking the specter of West Hollywood, likens the soak to "a cheap porno -- bubbles, Korbel." If so, it's one of those terrible soft-core pornos that never show anything of actual interest. Spike blathers on about his comfort with his sexuality and how he'll take a bath with a guy if he wants to, dammit!
Elimination day looks gray, but that hasn't deterred a bevy of excited fans decked out in Bears finery. According to Richard, who's chosen the "high tech, Mercedes Benz of grills" (an effective-looking Weber), they have an hour to cook. Mark, making a cool-dude misstep, is the only one who's selected a primitive charcoal grill over the fancy gas Weber -- he chalks it up to "testicular fortitude." That might buy you balls on paper, but in real life it looks like a disaster waiting to happen.
The four judges show up, each rocking a number four Bears jersey with their chosen accessories. ["Punter Brad Maynard! Woo! Though, actually, it must suck for him to see all these jokers wearing his number." -- Joe R] Colicchio is -- for real -- working a scarf and a beret. Chatty Koren has gotten bigger and butcher -- oh wait, it's her boss, Paul Kahan, the chef/owner of Avec and a place called Blackbird, who will be the guest judge for the Elimination challenge. They're joined again this week by Gail Simmons.
As Stephanie (wearing black paint under her eyes while she serves) expresses excitement that they're cooking for -- and being judged by -- the masses of fans who've come to party (with plenty of extremely flattering shots of people stuffing their faces), the judges begin their station visits with her grilled pork tenderloin with bacon, potato and pear salad, and a rosemary vinaigrette (a sort of "mayo-ey stuff," according to Kahan, that she's squeezing from a bottle). Colicchio thinks the pork is cooked well, and a smattering of fans second his praise.
Dale, serving ribs, gets excited when he spots Gale Sayers, "probably one of the best running backs ever." Gale likes Dale -- or at least his ribs. Sorry, I couldn't resist -- these things get long. Richard Dent and William "The Refrigerator" Perry (of whom I have actually heard!) also show up for some ribs, and now I have Chris Rock from I'm Gonna Git You Sucka stuck in my head. "How much for a rib?" As the judges arrive, we learn that the ribs are baby back, baby back, baby back, marinated in tandoori, and served with a raisin, mango, and potato salad. Interesting flavor choices -- it sounds like a nice combo of spicy and sweet. Judges and fans alike enjoy Dale's ribs.
Spike, topped with a Bears chef hat, doles out wings as he tries to engage in some Bears banter with the fans. Hoping to show the people "charisma, personality," and "to spoof 'em up" as they come through his line, whatever the hell that means, he asks when the Bears last won a Superbowl, which must be a no-no to anyone who knows anything about football, since it falls flat. His jicama and pineapple slaw with lime dressing and fire-spiced chicken wings sounds tasty and looks completely safe. The judges like the spice, the fans dig the wings, and we're stuck with Spike for at least one more week.
Dent, I think it is, shows up at Antonia's grill just before the judges for a jerk chicken sandwich with pickled onion, banana, and pineapple -- the judges enjoy the flavor, but Colicchio thinks she should have put the banana and the pineapple on the sandwich instead of serving them on the side. As a few tailgaters weigh in, we discover that the ratings will be delivered in football terms: touchdown, fumble, etc. Ryan, incapable of handling service himself, has enlisted a bunch of beefy fans to help, ordering them to grab salt, calling to Mark for a towel, and generally putting on a ridiculous floor show. People seem to be eating it up, but he looks like an ass to me -- I have never been able to understand why people fall for that kind of cutesy, phony, look-at-me bullshit, but they do. I've seen it happen too often, I find it insufferable, and it fills me with hatred.
Ryan bumps into Kahan, or Colicchio, or both of them, as the judges arrive to sample his bread salad (or "panzanella" -- thanks, douche) with marinated chicken, poached pear, and brandy cocoa (with marshmallows). Ryan thinks he'll be the winner because "it's not typical tailgate food," which might indeed set him apart, but unfortunately his dish is grossly inappropriate as well as atypical. While a few of the fans seem to like the items, one girl says, "This is so hard to eat," and the judges aren't given screen time to offer their thoughts.
Andrew, hamming it up in a football helmet, needs a Ritalin as he tells the Fridge that he's "in the game, this is what I am, this is my house, and this is what I play." What he plays is a beer-, Dijon-, and sweet-soy-glazed shrimp with potato parsnip puree, apple and bacon chutney. It doesn't look great, although not much does when it's plated on Bears-ware, and the judges pronounce it delicious, while Gayle describes Andrew (who's gotten himself semi-stuck inside his helmet) as "a trip." Colicchio seems skeptical about the parsnip puree, perhaps because he's sick of tasting some variation of it every time he eats Andrew's food.
In what seems like a random aside (but isn't, of course), Nikki's whining about small portions and wanting to make sure everyone gets fed before Lisa shows off her skirt steak with corn cake and salsa verde. Jen's got her Zoi Memorial harissa-marinated chicken with tzatziki and quinoa tabouli, and Richard's got the paté melt, which is pork, veal, and pork fat, topped with spicy mayonnaise and a pickled cucumber. He keeps saying "we," even though this is an individual challenge; just when you thought Richard couldn't get any more lame, he does. The burger seems to be going over well, though. Damn you and your good cooking, Blaise!
Mark, saddled with his charcoal grill, is having a rough time. He drops utensils while he's serving Padma, and he just looks sort of sad and lost as he does the best he can. Stephanie observes that "Mark is making a total mess," which she sees as a problem because "to work clean is very important as a chef -- your flavors can be great but it's got to look nice, too." Mark's chicken and scallion skewers with soy and onion glaze and New Zealand corn chowder (which they don't even show, although there is a bowl of some gloppy-looking brown liquid at his station), along with some sort of slaw, definitely fall short in the pretty department. "He's a mess," laughs Colicchio. "It's an absolute disaster over there." Oh, it's an apple and fennel salad.
Nikki's meticulous attention to the serving size of her "real man food" backfires, as she's run out of peppers and onions by the time the judges show up to sample her sausage and peppers, grilled shrimp with hot sauce, and spiced cider. She tries to chalk it up to repeat customers and a preponderance of New Yorkers, but she's clearly screwed. "Italian sweet pork," she answers when Kahan asks her about the type of sausage, and reveals that "we didn't have enough time" when he wonders if she made it herself. She's worried about how her dish will come across without the peppers and onions, and Kahan confirms her fears: "If you don't save some peppers and onions for the judges, number one, that's a problem." Furthermore, he thinks she had plenty of time to make her own sausage. "She's definitely having a bad day," says Colicchio.
As the food runs out and service nears an end, Richard Dent reveals that his favorite was Richard's burger, while The Refrigerator dug Lisa's skirt steak and Dale's ribs. Some white dude liked Stephanie's pork, but Gale Sayers chooses Dale's "great ribs" as the best as well. Mark knows he dropped the ball on his skewers, while Nikki's freaking out over her mismanagement of resources and the incomplete dish she served to the judges. She hopes that "positive feedback from the fans" will at least keep her out of the bottom group.
Back at the ranch, Padma calls Antonia, Dale, and Stephanie to the judges' table -- they were the three favorites of the fans. When Colicchio remarks that Stephanie's among the winners once again, she says, "It's a good place to be. I like it." She clearly knows what she's doing, but she does admit to getting nervous and doubting herself, so I'll be curious to see how she fares as the chaff gets sent home and it becomes as much about being a solid competitor as the food itself. When Padma wonders how they liked having the fans choose the three best dishes as opposed to the judges, Antonia pipes up in favor of the people: "It opens you up and you just kind of think differently."
Individual feedback begins with Stephanie. Colicchio, looking for something to criticize, says the pork was slightly underseasoned, but that everything was "really tasty." Gail reveals she was a "little hesitant" about the rosemary dressing (perhaps due to last week's rosemary fiasco, but in the end she really enjoyed it. Gail then tells Antonia that "Tom had the suggestion to put the pineapple and the banana in the sandwich, and that made it even better." Antonia responds that she considered doing that, but was afraid everyone would see it as "just a sandwich." It's a tailgating party, dodo. With Dale, Gail (oooh, more rhyming!) thought "the flavors were very unusual for tailgating food," but they all worked really well in concert. Now the judges get to do their heavy lifting -- the fans chose the best dishes, but the judges pick the winner. Based on "complexity and depth of flavor," Kahan crowns Dale the tailgate king. For his troubles, Dale gets a Top Chef Bears jersey -- a nice keepsake for a hometown kid -- as well as one of the fancy Weber grills, which will keep on giving long after Lisa's returned from Italy.
Dale summons Mark, Nikki, and Ryan for a much less pleasant visit with the judges. Nikki's hoping that her presence at the table has something to do with running out ingredients before the judges appeared, but Colicchio informs her that she scored very low with the fans as well, which surprises her. Colicchio asks about her decision not to make her own sausage, and she again gives the "not enough time" reason, as Colicchio points out that Richard, by making sausage patties (sorry, patés), "essentially did the same thing." Gail didn't see "a lot of care given to the sandwich itself," and calls the sausage (and the sandwich in general) "dry." Nikki tries to differentiate between what she served early on -- "red peppers, onions, it looked beautiful, the sauce was there," which inspired several repeat takers -- and what she gave the judges, but they're not having it. Curious about how the shrimp related to the overall dish, Kahan discovers that it didn't -- Nikki just wanted to have something else to serve. He suggests mixing the sausage and the shrimp together, which would have tasted good and offered "an interesting spin" on a classic. Just don't run out of shit, counsels Colicchio.
up: Ryan, grinning douchily. Colicchio attacks the pear first, wondering why he would choose a dessert that "in a million years I would never think to see at a tailgate party." Bypassing the question, Ryan explains that he wanted to deliver a "whole dining experience at my table," which is somewhat antithetical to the idea of the tailgate, and that he doesn't think a dessert option was "too left field." Nice sports metaphor, metrosexual. Gail has no truck with dessert, but thinks "there would have been options that would have been more appropriate." But, says Ryan, he wanted to bring a California sensibility and a lighter touch to the food -- too bad his bread salad was "dry" -- and do something different to differentiate himself from the group. He says most of this in one stream of consciousness spew of nonsense, and it's amusing to watch Nikki try not to laugh while Colicchio gets more and more annoyed. Finally, Colicchio interrupts him with a reminder about the fact that it was a tailgate party, for crying out loud.
To start Mark's dressing down, Colicchio says that the heavy sauce Mark used prevented the chicken from showcasing the charcoal flavor typical of yakitori -- presumably the reason Mark made the bad choice of grills. Mark agrees that the skewers were a letdown, but steers the conversation to the corn chowder. "The soup had decent flavor, except it was very course," opines Colicchio, and suggests that it could have been strained. When Mark gets defensive about it being his chowder, and he didn't want to strain it, so if you don't like it then cheese off, Colicchio reprimands him with a terse, "Taste and texture go hand in hand." To make matters worse, "your presentation was really, really sloppy." Both Colicchio and Padma, at least, saw him use a spoon to taste the soup, plop the spoon right back into the pot, and then use the same spoon to serve, which is fine at home (or even perhaps in a sequestered restaurant kitchen -- well, maybe not fine, but you can be sure it happens), but not when strangers are watching you serve their food. "There was more food on your apron than on your grill," says Colicchio, which I wish we could have seen.
Left alone to confer, the judges revisit each of the low-scorers. Kahan, unimpressed that Nikki didn't make her own sausage, since it doesn't take long, is all, "she's a chef, she's not a purchaser at a supermarket." Uh, based on what I've been watching for the past hour, she's certainly not a chef. Gail was struck by the apparent lack of effort on Nikki's part, and Kahan, discussing the shrimp, says he understands "wanting to please the masses," but that it needs to be done thoughtfully. Colicchio calls Ryan's bread salad "one of the worst versions of bread salad I've had in a long, long time," and all of the judges lay into him because, as Gail puts it, "he didn't want to actually do tailgating at the tailgate party." Seconds Kahan: "Even if it's inappropriate, at least make it good and interesting." Ouch. Cut to the waiting room, where Nikki's talking to Stephanie about how Ryan never shuts up, while Ryan is, of course, still talking about he did it his way, to Richard. Richard responds with a series of beeps. Colicchio's stuck on the grittiness of Mark's chowder, but Kahan reveals that the killer, for him, was Mark's failure to make a mayonnaise for his slaw -- perhaps something infused with spice to punch up the salad. Gail faults Mark for an inability to adapt to the circumstance, and Colicchio again brings up just how "unsanitary" Mark's station was.
After calling food and sport two pillars of Chicago culture, Colicchio tells Nikki that here, "sausage is like a religion," and that if she wanted to impress, she should have made her own. He tells Ryan that his food was completely inappropriate for a tailgate party, a fact that Ryan actually seems to accept as a badge of honor, but then Colicchio adds that "if we were sitting in a fancy restaurant, the food just wasn't very good," which hits home harder. As for Mark, he needs to learn how to clean it up, since a sloppy station begets sloppy food. In the end, Ryan packs his ego and heads home (I actually thought it would be Nikki, since she's been consistently on the bottom, but Ryan won't be missed), but not before letting us know that he went down for cooking "Ryan Scott tailgate food" and delivering another nonsensical monologue about how awesome everything was and how proud he is. I think he could have removed "tailgate" from that last quote -- it would explain even more succinctly why he's going back to Cali.