Sadly, this will not be released in time for you to give it to me for my birthday. . .

. . . which is in a mere 24 hours (buy me things!). Sadly, Dirty Dishes, "Stefan's Life Story, a Few Recipes, a Bunch of Dirty Dishes, and Lots of Other Schmutz" will not be available until May.

But do make sure to check out his website. It's actually very soothing. I'm sitting here listening to the music he's got on it as awesomely plesant background noise.

Top Chef: Ulllllllllllllch.

Fucking Fucking Fuck.
Mankletooth Bastard has won
Top Chef is Sullied.

Yeah, I know. It’s hyperbole. And generally hyperbole makes me want to set myself on fire.

But I really feel—I really do feel, my loves—that a Hosea win has completely blackened the good name of Top Chef.

This is not like Hung winning Season Three, or like Jeffery winning Project Runway, where you thought to yourself “ok, he’s an asshole and his aesthetic is not my thing, but he does have talent.”

This is more like. . .well, actually, it’s kind of like Season Two of Top Chef, where not just the result but the entire fucking episode made me want to take a scalding hot shower and scrub myself down while weeping, like the rape victims in Lifetime movies.

Or Tobias in Arrested Development. “Why,Tracy, Why?”

Or—nostalgia time, boys and girls—like Max on One Life to Live back in the ‘90’s when he slept with Blair in the throes of his gambling addiction, and after realizing what he’d done, felt the need to scrub himself down Lifetime rape victim style, while screaming “Luna!!!!” because he’d cheated on his Wiccan freak show wife.

I feel like that. Except I want my shower to be with lye soap. And hydrochloric acid to burn out my eyes and unsee Hosea’s gormless snaggletoothed face. And then I want the Puritans to come in and beat me with brooms and chant “Un-Clean! Un-Clean!” because my soul has been so defiled by that fucking farce of a finale. And then I want them to beat me about the head so I incur another concussion and get more memory loss that wipes out the last hour of my life.

Augh. So the first thing you should weigh in on in the comments, poppets—worst Top Chef finale ever? Or is this a mere case of the flu compared to the grotesque House-like disease of Season Two?

Let’s just get it over with:

* Morning! Hotel Monteleone! Stefan brushes his teeth and Carla does Yoga. Hosea interviews about how he’s stoked but nervous, and they all head out to the Creole Queen paddle boat for breakfast.

* Carla talks about how she’s been building momentum, and doing the food that’s got her there will help her. Hosea feels like he has more to prove because he’s the only one of the top 3 who doesn’t already own his own business. Stefan laments the end of Team Europe, but still insists his food in the last challenge was better than Hosea’s.


* They head over to the Historic New Orleans Collection (I’ve been there!!) where they meet Padma and Tom. Tom tells them that the final challenge is to cook the best three course meal of their life. They’ll be cooking head-to-head and serving simultaneously. They don’t have to make the dessert.

* They’ll be cooking at Commander’s Palace for a table of 12 judges and distinguished guests. They’ll have 2 hours tonight to prep at the Audubon Tea Room, and 3 hours tomorrow night to cook at Commander’s Palace.

* And of course, they’ll have some help. Three shadowy figures emerge from a tunnel and it’s. . . Richard! Casey! And Marcel! All Runners-Up from Seasons past. Oh, wow, this would be such a fun twist. . . if I didn’t read spoilers.

* This season’s final 3 draw knives to determine who gets to choose sous chef first. Carla draws 3; Stefan defers to Hosea who draws one, so Stefan gets 2. Hosea picks Richard because Marcel reminds him of Stefan. Stefan picks Marcel because “he’s a great Chef; he’s a bit of a twat but. . .who’s not.” Yay life philosophy—put that on a t-shirt, Bravo. And Carla’s glad to be stuck with Casey b/c she remembers her being “very meticulous.” Hm, I remember her taking twenty years to chop an onion, but that might just be me. Or not. But I guess one man's "meticulous" is another man's "ridiculously slow and useless."

* Audubon Tea room. Stefan sets aside some foie gras and Hosea steals it. Stefan sets aside some caviar, and Hosea steals it. Unbefuckinglievable--you'd think that knowing that Fucktooth Cheaterbaum was going to win, the editors would've done something to make him look remotely like a good guy. Instead, it seems like they've gone out of their way to make him look like an assface. Or maybe that's all he gave them to work with.

* There’s a prep flurry, and they talk about what they’re doing. Hosea has “rough ideas” for each course, and Richard wants to win because he still hurts from not winning.

* Carla is going to do French food. She says that her meat course will be “comfort food—exciting but still a little refined,” and Casey sells her on the idea of sous-vide-ing the sirloin. No good can come of this.

* Stefan wants to do “a good quality, good yummy dish” and thinks that “cooking good basic food is much sexier than doing a bunch of bullshit.” Commercial!

The DVD cover of Australia looks like a Sunfire Romance novel. Or—OR!!!!--one of those old James Michener books named after states. Alaska! Texas! Rhode Island! Ok, maybe not the last one.

* Teaser! They have a voodoo/tarot card reader come by to see them. She reads Stefan’s love life with Jamie and says that could be his girlfriend. Methinks she’s not the best voodoo priestess in New Orleans.

Oh my god, it’s the Australia commercial again.

* Back! Finally!!! Day of the challenge. They all turn up at Commander’s Palace and see Tom there with a basket of crazy ingredients: gator, crab and redfish.

* Tom tells them they have to make one more course. The butterflies in Carla’s stomach turn to bats.

* They have to make an appetizer for a tray pass using one of the zany New Orleans ingredients. They get to eat a king cake to decide who cooks with which protein. Whoever finds the baby gets to choose their own protein and assign the others. Hosea, of course, wins the baby. Because God hates me and wants to see me writhe in pain. Anyway, he takes the redfish, giving Carla the crab and Stefan the alligator.

I’d just like to take a moment to remind you all about how Hosea bitched that Stefan was taking the easy way out when he chose lobster during the Ripert (le sigh!) challenge. But what does he pick when he has the choice? A fish. Oh yeah, you’re a ballsy fucking chef who takes real chances, you fat bald inbred Amish looking motherfucker. Oooooh, a fish. Scaaaary. Fuck you, Hosebeast.

* Their sous chefs enter and they have three hours until service. There’s a lot of prep, and Hosea gloating about his fucking fish, and Stefan struggling with the alligator, and a crab appears to be trying to eat Carla. Don’t eat Carla, crab! And they go over the courses which, natch, we’ll get into later.

* Hosea is not doing a dessert because he doesn’t want the last thing he makes on Top Chef to be his weakness. Stefan is making a dessert because if he has a three course meal, he wants a dessert. Carla is doing a cheese course that involves “apple coins” for her third, so it’s kind of a compromise. Casey talks her into doing a soufflé rather than a tart with the cheese. There seems to be a lot of Casey talking Carla into things. This does not bode well. Carla would be advised to remember that Casey came in third during her season, mostly because she completely fucked up during the finale.

* Stefan freezes some fish before making his carpaccio, which Marcel disagrees with. This is only notable because it’s the only thing we’ve heard from Marcel all night. Finish the flurry! Commercial!

* Back! The diners enter! Fabio is there! Also in attendance are the ubiquitous Rocco; Ti Martin, the proprietress of Commander’s Palace; Susan Spicer; John Besh; Hubert Keller; Fucking Toby Young; Branford Marsalis; and Tory McPhail.

I kind of want to marry Tory McPhail so that my last name can be McPhail. Or just to know Tory McPhail so that whenever he does something wrong, I can say “oh, nice job, McPhail.” Or “Yeah, you really McFAILed that one, McPhail.” Because I'm sure he's never heard any of that before.

* Hosea presents his passed tray. It’s Blackened Redfish on Corn Cake with Creole Remoulade and Micro Cilantro. The judges love it. This is not going well.

* Stefan talks about how Hosea tried to shaft him and does a “my 100,000 dollars, dude” which I choose to believe is a tribute to the “I want my two dollars!” kid from Better Off Dead (probably one of my top 15 movies of all time). He has made an Alligator Soup with Celeriac, Parsley Leaves and Puff Pastry. Again, the judges seem to love it.

* Carla’s hors d’ouevre is Shiso Soup with Blue Crab and Chayote Salsa. They seem to like it.

* The judges and diners go and sit down. 3. . .2. . .1. .

* Padma introduces the diners and judges, and the chefs bring out their first course. Stefan’s is a Smoked Salmon and Halibut Carpaccio with a Micro Green Salad, Citrus Vinegarette, and Caviar. Carla has made Seared Red Snapper over Saffron Aioli, Braised Fennel and Grilled Clam. And Hosea’s is Tuna, Hamachi, and Black Bass Sashimi with Fennel Oil, Citrus, and Fried Tempura Bits.

They all seem to like Carla’s dish. Ti wanted to love Hosea’s dish but it didn’t pop and Fabio thought it was missing seasoning. Tom couldn’t taste Stefan’s salmon and didn’t like the freezing technique, but Hubert Keller likes it. Toby thought that both dishes by the dueling baldos were well executed but bland and Carla’s popped with personality.

* The second course is presented. Stefan has made Pan Seared Squab with Braised Cabbage, Chopfnuden, Foie Gras and Grape Jus. Carla’s is a Sous Vide New York Strip Steak with Seared Potato Rod and Merlot sauce. Hosea presents a Seared Scallop with Foie Gras on Pain Perdu, Apple Preserves and Foie Gras Foam.

We go to the judges’ reaction. Gail finds Carla’s sirloin tough and Tom says that’s the problem with sous vide. Everyone agrees that she’s sous vided the soul out of it. They love Stefan’s squab and cabbage and say it gives them a good sense of who Stefan is. Gail can’t stop eating Hosea’s dish. Rocco is kind of sick of foie gras, but Branford could eat it all day.

* More prep. Stefan points out that Hosea is ONCE AGAIN taking the easy way out because he’s not making dessert. Carla’s soufflé are bubbling and she forsees disaster. With three minutes left, she decides not to serve it, because she’d rather serve half a dish than a curdled soufflé.

* Stefan’s third course is Straciatella Ice cream, Chocolate Mousse, Vanilla Syrup and Banana Lollipop. Carla’s is an Apple Tart Coin with Blue Cheese and Walnut Crumble. She tells them about the soufflé that didn’t. I can never decide whether this is a good idea or not—it explains why there’s a problem with the dish, but at the same time it raises questions about why you failed at something. Hosea’s third course is Pan Roasted Venison, Chestnut and Celery Root Puree with Wild Mushrooms.

Gail is incredibly disappointed that Carla’s soufflé didn’t work out. Tom feels like Stefan’s dessert is “eh” and Gail finds it dated. They both enjoy Hosea’s dish. Mother. Fucker. Even Fabio is forced to say that Hosea’s dish is better. Hubert points out that the venison was a safe way out. God bless you, chef Keller.

* Padma dismisses the diners. Oh, God, I have the worst feeling about this.

* Carla is feeling low—she doesn’t feel like this is the meal of her life. Hosea is happy with his dishes, and knows he can face the judges with his head on high. Stefan admits that he doesn’t know. Commercial!

Augh, the reunion looks interminable.

* Back! Judges’ Table. The top 3 enter, and Padma congratulates them for making it to the finale.

* Gail thought Carla’s appetizer was really well done. Tom enjoyed the flavors on her boulliabase, and thought the sauce on the meat was good. Gail points out that the texture was not good, and Toby talks for 90 minutes about how it was too refined. Carla admits that Casey talked her into sous vide-ing it, and that she was the one behind the soufflé-ing that went awry. Tom says it seems like she let Casey talk her out of cooking the food that got her to the finale.

* Toby thought Hosea’s hors d’ouevre was excellent, and Hosea talks for three hours about how he wanted to do big flavors and would’ve been happy with any of the three proteins. Bull. Shit. Toby says the sashimi was fresh and light but lacked citrus. Tom liked the second course, and Gail thought it was the best thing he did all night. Tom adds that the venison was nicely cooked, and Gail liked the earthy components, but the garnish was a throw-away. Toby calls him out for not having an “end” to the meal since he had no dessert.

* Toby and Tom both praise Stefan’s alligator soup. Gail says that the carpaccio tasted watered down, and Tom agrees. Gail enjoyed his squab, and Toby thought it was his strongest suit. Tom asked why he did a dessert when he didn’t have to, and Stefan says he wanted a complete menu.

* Padma asks why each of the chefs should win. God, I hate this part. Stefan says he deserves it overall and has been consistent. Hosea says he put a piece of himself out there. He did the same thing when he was cheating on his girlfriend with Leah, but you don’t see him asking for $100,000 for that (though considering the parties involved, maybe Bravo just edited that part out). Anyway. Carla says that when she cooks her food, it’s really delicious. And she cries a little.

* Stefan pats her back and makes that “don’t cry” noise that dudes make when they’re trying to be good dudes. Hosea does not, because he can’t even be bothered to pretend to be a good dude. Because he is a snaggletoothed, bald, cheating, fucktard asshole who should die. I choke up a little, because I really like Carla and Stefan, and the inevitability of what's about to happen is setting in despite my best efforts at denial.

* Deliberation. Everyone agrees immediately that Carla’s out of the running. Ouch. They weigh the other two—Stefan is more skilled but Hosea has more vision or something--I kind of stopped paying attention because I just couldn't cope. Stefan’s meal was better thought out and his squab was the best thing of the night, but his carpaccio was watery and Tom couldn’t get past the dessert. Padma says “It’s pedestrian at best” in a lovely patrician voice.

* Tom found the progression of Hosea’s menu nice. Toby says the venison was the nicest finale but it wasn’t an “end.” Gail would be completely satisfied with that menu, and doesn’t think Hosea did that as well as Hosea.

* Tom says that Stefan’s cooking isn’t as soulful, and Toby points out that if they’re giving it to the most soulful chef, it should go to Carla. Commercial. Oh, God, I’m going to be sick.

* Back! Padma says “One of you. . . is Top Chef” and recounts the prizes again.

* Tom thanks them for an exceptional finale. He tells Carla that she was really strong along the way; Hosea was steady across the board, and Stefan had amazing highs and a few lows. Ultimately, they made their decision on how the meal tasted overall.

* Padma then says the worst words I’ve heard in a long while: “Congratulations Hosea. You are Top Chef.”

* And then he gives a douchey, douchey interview.

* Stefan thinks if he’d made a different dessert, he would’ve won, but he’s not going to be bitter.

* Carla says she should’ve done her food and won’t make that mistake again. And she cries some more.

* Hosea gives another douchey interview, again, some more. And hugs Leah long and tight. “Things are gonna change. For sure.” Yeah, like your girlfriend’s going to break up with you for cheating on her. That’ll be a big change. And people are going to stop taking this show seriously because an asshole like you won.

My prediction? Things change for Hosea just as much as they did for Ilan. Bravo realizes they can't afford to use him the way they do the other winners because he's not likeable, and doesn't even have the necessary Hung type personality/interest to make good TV without his little whore around to generate faux scandal by sucking face with him. And they let him fade into blissful obscurity.

That's the best the rest of us can hope for.

Chefetish DuJour

Thank you, WaPo, for getting my Top Chef finale Wednesday off to a great start by introducing me to an all new Chefetish Object for me to. . .chefetish on: Chef Jeremy Fox of Napa's Ubuntu:

It's like he's saying "Good morning, Jordan. I hear you have a birthday coming up. Why don't you follow me into this dimly lit barn so I can do unspeakably filthy things to you with these delicious root vegetables?"

To which I can only say: Om nom nom nom nom.

Excuse me while I think of an excuse to be goin' (goin') back (back) to Cali (Cali, Cali).

Top Chef Extra: Best served with a grain of salt (and some LOVE)

Under the auspices of my august employer, the Extremely Reputable Organization, I just met Carla.

I would love to be able to tell you that all the loveableness, the whackadooness, and the fun-but-crazy are all a put on; that in person, she's dour and humourless and totally no fun at all.

She's not. In person, she's exactly. The. Same. As she is on TV.

Which doesn't mean that it's not a performance. After all, we're all performing ourselves all of the time, and Carla strikes me as the sort of person both who's highly cognizant of and gets a great deal of enjoyment from her performance.

But it does mean that she's never going to be able to say that the way she looks on the show is the result of editing. And--refreshingly--she doesn't even seem to be inclined to try.

Which is tres different from a lot of Cheftestants, past and present. Especially present. Let's take a trot through the rogues' gallery of Season 5's post exit interviews,: we've got Leah "I'm not a whore, I just look like one on TV, oh, and Padma sucks" Cohen; Jeff "the show used me as a sex object, oh, and Tom sucks" McInnis; and Hosea "I'm not a cheating jackass, and no amount of footage of me making out with some chick who's not my girlfriend can prove otherwise" Rosenberg.

So in light of all this, it was awesome to hear Carla say--in front of God, and the canapes, and a room full of star struck reality TV geeks who'd been plied with champagne at 11 in the morning, and everyone--"that's me. I mean, clearly, that's me."

But then I asked* about the others. I don't remember what I said (adrenaline high), but it was something along the lines of while she felt like her own presentation was accurate, some of her competitors had not been as gracious (because I'm smoove like that). And did she feel that any of them had been unfairly edited?

So here's--roughly--what she said:

* She knew Jeff felt like he'd been used as a sex object because they were always using footage of him with his shirt off. But her reaction was "Jeff, come on." And in her come on, she managed to convey both that a) Jeff was the only dude in the cast the audience would've been interested in seeing with his shirt off, so of course they used him that way; and b) they wouldn't have been able to use such footage had he not been shirtless around the cameras.

* Stefan comes across as cocky, but really he's confident and has the ability to get inside people's heads in a way she likened to the Art of War. She told us that he said he was never able to get inside her head, and she said that this might be an age thing (because both of them were older than the other competitors) and because she saw through his bluster. She said that while his presentation was always "I'm confident, I'm confident," she's been around enough to know that people who say that are really saying "I'm confident. . . .right?"

* Fabio is "a really nice guy. And I . . . .Fabio is a really nice guy. That's what I'll say."

And now, of course, I'm dying to know what she meant by that. It came out kind of awkwardly.

Possible picture to follow once I get my laptop back from the clutches of Satan and his minions (aka the Geek Squad).


* And yes, I'm both thrilled and freaked out that I managed to ask Carla questions, whereas I turned into a starstruck mute around fucking Spike. WHAT DOES THIS MEAN????

Top Chef: It's the Final(e) Countdown (Part One)

What I gonna do
Weeth no Fabio een my
Ree-caps? Va fangul.

Ok, gattini. At the risk of sounding hyperbolic (because we all know that hyperbole makes me want to set myself on fire), I have to say one thing. And yes, I have to say it in my bad, Harvard of the Southwest style Italian:

Senza Fabio, non che me ne frega sul finale.

Which . . .is not true. Ho ancora a cuore la finale. And in honor of Fabio, spero Stefan vince per il “Team Euro.”

But with the departure of Fabio, a lot of the joy is going out of Top Chef: 5 for me. I will have to drink a LOT next week to get through the Team Baldo (and Carla) throwdown. And next Wednesday JUST HAPPENS to be four days before my 32^nd birthday (buy me things!). There’s a limit to how much I can drink. The skin, people. We have to preserve the youthful glow.

Which is all just to say. . .Fabio, caro, I will miss you. You were the voice of this season. You were the soul of this season. And you were apparently William Shatner’s personal chef, which warms me to the cockles of my recovering Trekkie heart.

Anyway, let’s get on with it. Top Chef, Season 5: Finale. . . part one. The bad news is, Bravo's pictures are still fekaktah, so there are like 7 pictures and they're not terribly relevant. Presumably, Bravo's pictures will appear here at some point and you can look at them for your self.

The good news is, you can apparently buy an "I heart Fabio" t-shirt. Did I mention that there are only nine days until my birthday (buy me things!)?

* New Orleans! French Quarter! River boat! Street car! New Orleans airport. Completely deserted New Orleans airport—which, really, is the only way I’ve seen it (but then, my flight in was delayed, and my flight out was early in the morning, and it was in July when no one in their right mind goes to New Orleans except people like me who—as my cabbie pointed out—were traveling from one unpleasant swampy city to another). Hosea is excited to be in New Orleans for the first time.

* Fabio has gained some weight, and says he can’t go out without the title. He'll spend the next hour learning the difference between "can't" and "don't want to."

* Carla is greeted by a random Dixieland band, as one is in New Orleans. Wait—you weren’t greeted by a random Dixieland band when you went to New Orleans? Yeah, me neither. That’s probably because we made the foolish decision to go as tourists and not as competitors on a Bravo reality show. Carla would like to be the second woman in a row to win, and says she understands the food of New Orleans since she’s from the south.

Eh. . .that’s such a dodgy prospect for me. For one thing, New Orleans’ cuisine is SO TOTALLY DIFFERENT than other Southern cuisines. For another thing, I don’t like the proximity argument. I don’t feel like being from Arizona gives me a leg up on understanding the cuisine of California or Colorado or New Mexico. If anything, it gives me a leg up on understanding the cuisine of Sonora, Mexico, and the various parts of the Midwest that all Arizonans are ultimately transplants from.

* Anyway. . . Stefan is tragically dressed, and predicts Team Euro in the finale. He asks Hosea if he’s learned how to cook. HA!

* They drive through New Orleans and Carla talks about how all the different cultures come together there.

* They end up at Houmas House Plantation and Gardens. Hosea rhapsodizes about the “moss and stuff hangin’ all over.” Oh, yes. You’re eloquent in addition to being handsome, sexy, and skilled (hint: you are NONE of these things, you bald, incoherent PussMuffler).

* Emeril is there to greet them with Tom, Padma, and three tables. They all question the three tables, wondering if one of them is going to be eliminated IMMEDIATELY or something.

* Padma calls Emeril the “king of Creole”. Um, except he’s from like Massachusetts or something. So whatever. This, by the way, is 70% of my grudge against Emeril. At best, he’s a poseur; at worst, he’s a carpetbagger. Either way, he’s super annoying and his food is tres overrated. Blah. He talks about New Orleans being a food city and experiencing a rebirth.

* Quickfire! Padma tells them that they can relax and enjoy Southern Hospitality, because they won’t be competing. But. . . these three chefs will. Jamie, Jeff, and Leah enter. Jamie has a haircut that makes her look more like my BF than ever. Leah looks better with the New Orleans camera work, which seems to involve a brighter filter than the shooting they did in New York.

* Tom says this has been a close season, and Jeff, Leah, and Jamie have been consistently in the top. Um, that’s two thirds true. So. . .they have a chance to play back in.

* Hosea says that it’s a little awkward for him to have Leah back, since he got dumped by his girlfriend for cheating with her on national TV and all. Yeah, I can see how that would be awkward. It would totally be like that time I was at Paolo’s with a dude I was seeing, and some chick he used to bang got seated at the table next to us. Except with less hysterical fleeing the restaurant so fast you forget your credit card style shenanigans, and more. . . cameras, and actual infidelity, and public humiliation.

* Each of the chefs has an hour to create a dish using crawfish. Best part--they’re alive! The crawfish are alive! Leah interviews that she’s never worked with them before. Emeril will determine who has the best dish, and the winner gets back into the competition for the semi-final.

* Crawfish flurry! One of Jeff’s actually crawls across the table toward his pot. Nice to have cooperative ingredients. They all talk about what they’re doing and how it would be awesome to get back into the competition.

* Jeff says “Jeff’s mind has a couple different people talkin’ in it.” This explains soooooo much about Jeff’s performance throughout the season. I wonder if the people in Jeff's head evolved from his uncontrollable creative monkeys.

* They present their dishes. Leah has made Crawfish Soup with Andouille Sausage. Jeff has made Crawfish and Grits with Andouille and Beer. Ok, you’re about to hear something I haven’t said much this season: NOM. Anything with grits, andouille, and beer is my friend. Jamie’s dish is Corn Cake, Greens, Poached Egg, Tasso Ham, Andouille and Crawfish Cream Sauce.

* Emeril offers all three congratulations, but says that the winner is. . . .Commercial! Aw, I bet this would be so suspenseful if I didn’t read spoilers.

* Back! The winner is Jeff. He’s back into the finale and will compete in the next elimination challenge, but in order to make it to the finale, he has to win. Oh, it’s just like that one time on Project Runway when they pretended to let people back in but then didn’t. Remember that? Remember Vincent and Angela? Those were the days, poppets. Those were the days.

* Stefan thinks Jeff will be a strong competitor since he’s from the South.

* The chefs will compete tomorrow, but tonight they'll check into the Hotel Monteleone. Jeff gets a copy of Emeril's new book At the Grill, and looks suitably underwhelmed. They're also all invited to Delmonico this evening. Urgh. I'm not a girl to look a gift meal in the mouth, but if I was in New Orleans and you told me my one and only evening off from intense competition was going to be spent in a tourist trap like Delmonico, I'd riot.

* At the hotel, there are some product placement shots for New Orleans’ tourism, the hotel and Korbel and a bunch of other stuff. They head to Delmonico.

* They all interview about what winning Top Chef would mean to them, and who they want to win for. Shallow moment—I like Carla’s hair straightened and up, but I don’t care for it straightened and down.

* Hosea talks about how Stefan wants to get on his nerves, and how he (Hosea) has the skills to beat anyone. A) he doesn’t care that much, and 2) you don’t.

* Morning! They head to a warehouse where there are signs about Mardi Gras and a bunch of floats.

* Padma tells them that tomorrow night, the Krewe of Orpheus is holding their annual masquerade ball at the New Orleans Museum of Art. The contestants will be catering; they must each create 2 dishes and 1 cocktail for 100 people. One dish must be Creole cooking. They’ll be prepping and cooking at Delmonico for 5 hours, then they’ll have 1 hour to set up at the museum. Three of them will move on to the finale. If Jeff wins, two of the final four get eliminated. Whoever wins also gets a Toyota Venza.

* Fabio tells us “My car, eez a piece of. . .poop, and we cannot take eet anymore.” Commercial!

* Teaser! It involves a priceless discussion of Fabio’s tendency to cross dress at Halloween.

Fabio: de firs’ year, I was Catwoman. De secon’ year, I was Won’er Woman. You gotta have balls—

Hosea: well, they can’t be too big or they won’t fit in the thong.

Aw, crap. I almost liked Hosea for a moment there. Almost. But add to the list of things Fabio and I have in common—we’ve both been Catwoman for Halloween (except it looks like he was the Halle Berry Catwoman, whereas I was the Julie Newmar Catwoman). I’ve actually been Catwoman for Halloween twice—you find a black body suit that works, you rock it for as many years as you can—the second time with my super gay roommates as Batman and Robin. But he’s more Italian than I am, and he’s a dude. So I think he wins.

* Commercials. Is one of the girls on Make Me a Supermodel from the Janice Dickinson Modeling Agency? Am I going to have to watch Make Me a fucking Supermodel? Noooooooooo!!!!!!

* Back. They head to the Delmonico kitchen and start working. They talk about what they’re planning, but as uze, we’ll talk about that when the time comes. Carla decides to shuck 100 oysters even though she’d never shucked an oyster until about a week ago. Stefan is making beignets. Jeff makes his own sausage. Everyone talks about how Fabio has ruined the first fauxhawkless Top Chef by changing his hairstyle. Fabio is doing 3 dishes instead of the requisite two. Noooooo, kiss of death.

* Hosea is making the worst looking fucking roux I’ve ever seen. It looks like pancake batter and grease. He talks about Stefan being overconfident. Stefan does, in fact, seem overconfident.

* Tom thru! Fabio is going “ a leetle beet of Eetalyan weeth some Crayole flavor.” Aw, he pronounces Creole the same way I do. Add to list of things we have in common: 1) Italian; 2) have been Catwoman for Halloween; 3) hilarious mispronunciation of Creole as Cray-ole; 4) careful grooming of facial hair.

You heard me.

* Tom analyzes the contestants, and opines that that Fabio’s food isn’t Creole. He thinks that Carla should be steaming her oysters, and that Stefan seems cocky. He also feels that Hosea’s roux will be harshly analyzed by the locals.

* Flurry! Carla still hasn’t finished with her oysters.

* They move to the museum with an hour until service and start their prep. Only 1/3 of Carla’s oysters are shucked.

* Their bartenders show up. Fabio does his own mixing; Stefan delegates; Carla doesn’t drink so she’s doing a non alcoholic spritzer.

* The guests enter. It’s Gail!!!!! Gail’s back!!!!! Yayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy no more Toby fucking Young!!!!!!!!!!! Tom and Emeril are also there with masks. Emeril in a mask is just a recipe for creepy and wrong.

* Fifteen minutes. Everyone is trying to borrow stuff from each other. Carla spazzes about how people are asking her for help, but no one’s shucked any of her oysters. Commercial!

* Um, the Bravo poll is whether you’d like to see next season’s chefs cook with snake, cactus, or kangaroo. Hello, it’s got to be CACTUS, motherfuckers. It still kills me that I’ve never seen any of these yahoos have to make some cactus in five seasons--it's not like it's that exotic an ingredient.

Plus, who the fuck eats kangaroo? Seriously? Too cute to eat.

*Back! The guests are pouring in. All the masks remind Fabio of “an old porno movie.” I need Fabio to tell me about these old masked pornos he watches, because they seem a lot more interesting than the porn (midget or otherwise) that I’ve seen.

* Jeff’s cocktail is a Cucumber Mojito. It’s very green and I’m looking for a green cocktail right now (more on that to come. . . ), so it tempts me. His dishes are Fried Oyster with Sausage and Arugula and a Crawfish Pot de Crème.

* The guests seem to love the mojito. Emeril says Jeff is a refined and intelligent cook. Tom looks stunned that someone’s actually complimenting Jeff, because his weird hatred of Jeff and his beautiful hair has blinded him to the fact that Jeff was actually one of the more competent chefs this season.

Sorry to damn you with that faint praise there, Jeff.

I mean, we all know Jeff’s not winning because we’ve seen the way he blasts Tom in interviews, right? But I’d like to see him unseat one of the others (*cough*Hosea*cough*) and go to the final 3.

*Moving on, Stefan’s cocktail is a Black Cherry and Rum Cocktail. Ugh, that sounds like cough syrup. Stefan interviews that he’s “not going home for freaking gumbo.” Oh, don’t say that, man. Bad mojo. His dishes are a Duck, Rabbit, and Sausage Gumbo with Grits, and an Apple Beignet with Pecan Brittle. I NOM the idea of that dessert.

* The judges like the grits, but say the roux on the gumbo should be darker.

* Fabio’s cocktail is a “Trinitini” which combines Red Bell Pepper with Rum. His dishes are a Sausage and Rabbit Maque Choux with Grits; a Caserecci Pasta with Crawfish and Crab Stew; and Mufaletta Bread. He tells guests “I hope you taste like.” Wait, is he Italian or Yoda? Strong with Fabio the forza eez.

* One of the guests calls it a parade in his mouth. On the other hand, Tom and Emeril think the heat is missing

* Instead of making a cocktail, Carla has made a Cranberry and Lime Spritzer. Her dishes are a Shrimp and Andouille Beignet with Creole Aioli (ok, shrimp makes me break out and die, and I’d still NOM that) ; and Oyster Stew with Potato, Bacon and Scallions. The guests seem to love it. Emeril goes crazy over the beignet. Tom loves the stew.

* Hosea feels like his gumbo is the most authentic of all dishes. His cocktail is a Hurricane with Grand Marnier and Rum. His dishes are a Chicken, Duck and Andouille Gumbo with a Cornbread Muffin; and Catfish with Sweet Potatoes, Bacon and a Tabasco Beurre Blanc.

* Emeril loves Hosea’s gumbo and thinks both dishes capture the spirit of New Orleans. Ugh. UGH. He’s going to make it through, isn’t he? Because this sodding carpetbagger from Massachusetts has somehow convinced the world that he's the absolute arbiter of all things New Orleans, Mankletooth Cheaterbaum is going to be in the final three. UGH.

* We then get some cute scenes of the guests complimenting the chefs and giving them beads.

* Jeff thinks having to win is a deal he made with the devil. Fabio thinks that everyone did well and that the judges will have to be picky to decide who goes home. Commercial.

* Back! Judges’ Table. Oh, it’s so good to see Gail.

* Jeff is reminded of his extra burden. Gail tells him his was their favorite cocktail. They compliment the flavors on the Pot de Crème. Emeril thought his oyster dish was a wonderful idea. Tom compliments him on making his own sausage. We cut to an abashed looking Stefan, who did not make his own sausage.

* For Fabio, Emeril says the flavors on his maque choux were on. Gail would’ve liked to taste everything individually. Padma wanted more heat in the sausage. The drink smelled fantastic but the taste didn’t live up to the promise. GAHHHH, he’s not going through.

* Stefan is complimented on his grits, but Gail says the flavor on the gumbo wasn’t deep enough. Emeril says the beignet should’ve been hotter, but the cocktail was too sweet. Tom calls him out on being over calm, and Stefan says this is a function of age—at 36 he doesn’t stress anymore. Wow, I can’t WAIT to be 36 if that’s true. Too bad I’ve got another 4 years and 9 days to go on that (buy me things!).

* Carla thinks her oyster stew was heavy on the bay, but the judges tell her she’s wrong and it was perfect. They enjoyed her non-alcoholic spritzer. They loved the beignet—Gail could’ve popped them in her mouth all night. Sexy.

* Gail compliments the developed flavor on Hosea’s roux. Ugh. Gail, I’m no longer glad to have you back. Emeril says that if he was blindfolded, he could have been in any restaurant in New Orleans. Gail liked the combination of the beurre blanc and the Tabasco.

* Padma dismisses them. Deliberation. Gail thinks they all did a great job. Shallow moment: I don’t know if it’s the makeup artist’s fault, or just the fact that they’ve probably been deliberating for hours by the time they get to this bit, but Gail needs a touch more definition around the eyes.

* Anyway, Jeff has to win to stick around and he’s is definitely in the top 3; Carla’s oyster dish was a home run and so was her beignet, and her food has a level of care and sophistication. Hosea’s gumbo was the best of the gumbos. Stefan and Fabio were the bottom two, but still weren’t bad. Stefan’s food wasn’t soulful, his cocktail is sending Emeril to the dentist, and Tom hates his attitude. Fabio’s pasta wasn’t put together right and the sauce had no tang, but baking bread was a gutsy move. He also should’ve rimmed his glass in a spice. ???? Now you’re just being an asshole.

* Tom points out that Stefan and Fabio have been great throughout the competition, and they’re going to lose one and may lose both. NOT BOTH, TOM, PLEASE! NOT BOTH!!!!! Commercial.

* Back. Padma says there was a clear winner, and after a seemingly interminable speech, Emeril announces that the winner is. . . . “balance, flavor, temperature, simplicity, yet creative. And for me, that chef, is Carla.”

* YAY CARLA!!!!! She gets the Toyota Venza, and says her husband and friends will be proud.

* This means Jeff is going home, but they do tell him that he did a fantastic job. The two of them are allowed to leave. Jeff gives another exit interview, this time saying he can walk out with his head held high. I’m much less worried for him now than I was the first time, when he said he was going to carry this disappointment with him for a decade.

* Tom says that all three of the remaining chefs cooked their hearts out, but Hosea brought something a little extra, so he’s allowed to go back to his suite. VOM.

* Stefan’s food was good, but other gumbos were better, and his food didn’t live up to his cocky attitude. Fabio’s flavors just missed the mark. Both of them were strong throughout the competition, and it’s tough to see either of them go.

* Padma tells Fabio to pack his knives and go. He thanks them and high fives Stefan, telling him “eef you don’ ween, I’ll keek your ass. You ‘ave no idea.”

* Fabio feels great about having made it this far, and says he knows Stefan is going to win hands down. “I decedent came een thees country to be average, an’ I not gonna be average.”

* Next: cook the best 3 course meal in their life! Some help! More bald asshole fighting! Carla is losing it! Twists! One of you will be Top Chef!

WTF, Bravo?

Seriously, muffins, it's not my fault. Even with my grief over Fabio and my Satanically possessed laptop forcing me to rely on barely Y2K compliant technology to hammer out the text, I was good to go by 10 a.m.

Bravo, on the other hand, has this:

Still.

So. . . if that hasn't resolved itself by 4, I'll post a giant blob of text with the two or three images I've managed to snipe from other sites.

In the meantime, don't blame me. Blame Bravo.

Rosemary's Baby's Laptop

Hello, kittens. Long-ish time, no see.

No, I'm not dead, I'm not ignoring you, and I'm not trapped under something heavy.

I've just been. . . . kind of "Amish" lately.

I'm stealing "Amish" from a friend of a friend. When he and his siblings got in trouble, they didn't get grounded. They got "Amish"--all of their modern conveniences were taken away. No phone, TV, radio, car, or computer.

In my case, I'm only slightly Amish--I'm currently without computer. And it's not because I was bad and am punishing myself.

No, it's because my computer is apparently possessed by Satan. Or one of his minions. I mean, Satan himself is probably too busy with world affairs to wreak havoc on my laptop. But it's hard to imagine a minion wreaking this much havoc.

I would go into detail on the nature of the havoc, and how the most peculiar facet of it was that my computer seemed to work when it was not at my house--like when I tried to show the Geek Squad guy the problem, and it started just fine and he gave me the "stupid American girl" look that the Geek Squad's foreign born workers have elevated to an artform.

And how it continued to function at work, where it let me run an hour long virus scan and delete a bunch of files, and then put it into standby mode.

And how it then STOPPED working the minute I turned it on again at home, and how it's now stuck in an endless loop of letting me sign in, saying that it's loading my personal settings, and then logging itself off. And then opening the sign in page again, letting me sign in, saying that it's loading my personal settings, and then logging itself off. And then opening the sign in page again . . .

. . . but the whole point of that can be boiled down to: it's a plot by Satan and/or his minions to humiliate me in front of the Geek Squad "agents" and drive me slowly but surely insane(r).

And the reason I'm telling you this now is both a) to reassure you that I'm not dead, and b) to explain why the post on the first half of the Top Chef finale will almost certainly be late tomorrow. Because I'll either be writing it on my 2001 Gateway laptop--a contraption so out of date and cobbled together that I spent years calling it my "jalaptoppy" (a portmanteau of jalopy and lap top, if that wasn't clear)--which thank jebus, I still have as backup, OR taking frantic scribbled notes by hand and then trying to sneakily work them into something between tasks at work.

Both these things, of course, assume that my laptop doesn't drag me down into the bowels of hell in the interim.

Practical Romantic Advice

Out of the clear blue nowhere this afternoon, I found myself thinking about some advice an ex-boyfriend once gave me.

I'd just gotten off of the train during the distancey portion of our relationship, and was falling gratefully into his waiting embrace, when he said something I'll never forget.

Jesus," he said. "You hug like a robot. Come on, put some breast into it."

Now I can see how you'd think this was an unkind thing to say, and emblematic of many of the things that were wrong with our relationship (his tendency to be overcritical and inability to distinguish "robot" from "WASP;" my all-too-believable facade of emotional detachment and other manifestations of WASPiness).

But in retrospect, it's been some of the most useful romantic advice I've ever gotten.

I mean, listening to everyone's adjurations about not going to bed angry and love turning up when you stop looking? That has gotten me absolutely nowhere.

But if, when you hug a dude you like, you remember to put some breast into it. . . well, darlings, that will open doors you didn't even know existed.

So I thought I'd share that bit of wisdom with you in honor of that holiday that's coming up tomorrow. You know the holiday I'm talking about--Arizona Statehood Day.

And if you want to share any practical romantic advice you've gotten over the years, please do. But nothing fucking sappy. Keep it real. Keep it useful.

And for god's sake, put some breast into it.

Top Chef: It's really the Antepenultimate Supper, but that just doesn't have the same ring.

It’s about damn time
The HoseBeast goes Home for her
Hollandaise Challa.

(it's a masterwork of quasi-alliterative Haiku, non?)

I mean, honestly, what’s to say? I’m happy; it’s unsurprising; and it’s way overdue. Beyond that, there’s not much to say about someone who distinguished herself not with her cooking but by whispering in a listless monotone all season and periodically sucking face with an ugly dude.

Beyond that, the challenge was good but aside from Fabio soldiering on with a broken mitt, the episode was unremarkable. Maybe it was because the outcome was such a foregone conclusion (no way would they have kept Leah and let Stefan go), but there wasn’t a lot of suspense or drama. It just seemed like something of an anti-climax.

Also, I had my teeth cleaned Wednesday morning, and while I was writing this, my jaw still hurt from hanging open for an hour. So let’s just get going.

* Morning! Chefpartment! They all talk about how rough it was that Jamie’s gone, but how she did screw up. Leah talks about how she was almost sent home and how winning would be a validation of why she’s doing what she’s doing. What, screwing around on your boyfriend with ugly guys? ‘Cause I haven’t seen you do much of anything else this season, chicklet. And Carla apparently used to model before she went to culinary school, and she wants to inspire other women to follow their dreams by making it to the final four. I would love to see pictures of Carla when she was modeling—she’s 90 feet tall and has fierce bone structure, but I wonder how the crazy in the eyes worked for the camera.



Suddenly I want a hamburger.

* Quickfire. They go into the Top Chef kitchen to see a lot of eggs and Wylie Dufresne. Hosea gives another one of his lame, uninformative interviews about who the guest judge is, as though the audience doesn’t know. Seriously, even the people in the Bravo audience who didn’t know who Wylie Dufresne was before Top Chef know who he is now since he’s appeared on –I think?—three out of five seasons.

* Padma tells us that Wylie is known for his obsession with eggs. Ok, that I didn’t know. So their quickfire is to create a dish with eggs that will inspire and delight Wylie Dufresne. They have an hour. Fabio wants to win this Quickfire because he’s never won one.

He describes his planned dish, and then tells us “Een molehyoolar gastronomy, you can change the taste of somtheen, the consistency of sometheen throo chemeekal reaction of the food. I am happy to cook for Doo-frez-nay. I can please his palate.”

* Egg flurry. Hosea snarks about how everyone’s running around but Carla, and he thinks her dish is too simple and Wylie’s not going to be impressed by her green eggs and ham. Hosea has fallen into the Top Chef trap of thinking that more automatically = better. But at the same time, I can’t help but recall Sam’s Green Eggs and Ham from Season 2, which went over like a ton of bricks.

* We see the food. Stefan has made a Poached Egg on Brioche with Ham and Bernaise; and a Panna Cotta with Mango Puree and Sweet Bernaise. Leah’s dish is Quail Egg in Potato with Caviar and Brioche with Ricotta and Bacon Hollandaise.

By the way, just because I don’t think I’ve mentioned it for at least 6 or 7 episodes--I fucking HATE Quail Eggs. BLAAAAAAH.

Ok, so where was I? Oh yeah. Carla has prepared Green Eggs and Ham with Green Tomato Salsa and Jalapeno Oil. Hosea did a “Japanese dinner” of eggs--Egg White Roll with Salmon and Asparagus; Egg White Sticky Rice with Poached Shrimp and Avocado; Avocado and Tempura Fried Egg.

Finally, Fabio has done Quail Egg with Buckwheat Pancake; Coconut Milk Pannacotta with with Mango Puree; Lychee Soup with Melon Yolk.

* Wylie Dufresne’s bottom ranked: Fabio was not comfortable with breakfast so he “danced around the egg.” I would like to see a challenge that requires Fabio to actually dance around an egg. Fabio, however, is not amused. He interviews: “Ahm PEESED. Ahm on the frickin bottom for what?” For dancing around the egg, Fabio. Weren’t you listening?

Also on the bottom: Hosea, whose components didn’t play off of one another, and Leah, whose fake egg was good, but the potato ravioli was heavy and greasy. HA-ha.

The good news goes to Carla, because Dufresne really liked the playfulness and humor of her dish. Stefan is also complimented because his technique very strong and his panna cotta really mimicked poached egg.

* The winner is Carla. SUCK IT, Hosea. Wylie talks about how sticking with one thing made well really pushed her through over the failed multi-component disasters. Having multi-components also made them a lot harder to type, so I'm in total agreement with Doo-frez-nay.

* Then they draw knives for their elimination challenge. Each knife has the name of a famous chef or food expert on it. In the world’s most perfect demonstration of stars aligning correctly, Fabio draws Lidia Bastianich. Hosea pulls Susan Ungaro, president of the James Beard Foundation. Stefan gets Marcus Samuelson. Leah gets Wylie Dufresne; and Carla draws Jacques Pepin. Or, as I prefer to call him, OMGJacquesPepin!!!!!!

* Padma tells them that they asked each of these chefs what their last meal would be, and the cheftestants are going to cook it for them. They’re all told what the dishes are (which we’ll cover about ten more times, so why bother here? ). They’ll create a five course meal on $300, with 30 minutes to shop and two hours to prep and cook at the Capitale. At the end of the Last Supper, four will move on to the finale.

* Stefan reminds us of the stakes here, saying “It’s huge to be eliminated as fifth. That’s a huge real shit stick.” I love how “shit stick” has become the official unit of measure for Top Chef, Season 5. Shit Stick needs its own shirt.

Commercial.

* Back! They go to eat at Perilla, Harold’s restaurant. I am tres jealous--for like, three years now I've been telling Limey "OMG, we're totally going to Perilla next time I come to New York," and then I always end up planning my trips too last minute to get a reservation. Anyway, Fabio tells us that ”Meet Harold eez a pleasure. He know where we gonna be right now.” Which is kind of like what I would’ve said in the same situation, except it would’ve gone “it was a pleasure to meet Harold. He always seemed like a class act on the show, and he reaffirmed this belief when he didn’t have me arrested after I leapt into his arms and licked his face.”

Commercial. Ok, so that was the teaser. I kind of hate the teasers.

* Back! Shopping! Carla talks about how she and Jacques are two peas in a pod. This is meant to be funny because part of his request was fresh peas. Hosea talks about how Stefan is the guy to beat because he gets people off their game. Stefan replies that you could cut his legs and arms off and he’d still run circles around Hosea, and how Hosea doesn’t have the balls to be a chef. Leah plans to put her own spin on Eggs Benedict.

* 2 hours to service. Carla talks about showing her confidence and how less is more. Leah talks about having something to prove and how she sucked ass in the last challenge. Stefan talks about how there’s nothing he could possibly screw up with this dish, which worries me.

* Then we get the sound of glass breaking. Fabio tells us ‘My feenger? Eet went completely back. An’ it crack. An’ I broke my finger.” There’s some pained babbling that exists somewhere between Italian and English and just shuddering. Oh, this is causing flashbacks of when I broke my toe. Hosea interviews about how pale Fabio is, and a medic asks if he wants to go to the hospital.

Fabio “Hospital? I’ll chop eet off, an sear it on the flat top so eet don’ bleed no more, an’ tomorrow I’ll deal with nine feenger.”

Fabio, you rock. You just rock. That’s all there is.

Commercial! My god, it’s like 80% commercials tonight.

* Back! One hour! Carla once again reminds us what the challenge is. So this challenge is 80% commercials and 10% Carla's exposition. Fabio struggles to cope with his gimpy hand, and tells us “I always say that’s so easy I could do with one hand tied behind my back? I deedn’t mean to!”

* He struggles more. “I got so many keek een my ass, that sometimes when I’m een bathroom, I steel pull shoos outta my ass.” Yeah, this is really the only interesting part of the entire evening.

* Hosea says his last meal would probably be a BLT. Fabio says he’d want his last meal cooked by his grandmother, not Top Chef contestants.

* Tom comes in to the kitchen, and instead of doing his usual walkabout, just tells them not to embarrass him. Well, that’s nice and comforting. Thanks a heap, Tom.

* The judges enter the dining room. Oh my freaking god, it’s set up like Leonardo’s Last Supper. OMGJacquesPepin!!!! will be the guests’ representatives at the Judges’ Table. He’s in the Jesus spot, with Padma on his left and Lidia on his right.

* Leah thins out her Hollandaise. Carla interviews how they’d love to have two women go to New Orleans. I would've too, but I'd rather they be Carla and Jamie, or Carla and any other woman who demonstrates, oh, I don't know, actual culinary talent and some level of desire to be there.

* The first course is Leah cooking for Wylie Dufresne. She’s made Eggs Benedict with a Slow-Poached Egg and Bacon on Challah Bread, and some sort of salad.

Dufresne says the egg white is watery, but the bacon is nice. He adds that the salad was unnecessary. Marcus Samuelsson adds that it doesn’t have the texture, and Jacques Pepin thinks the Hollandaise is too thin. Toby Young counters that he likes runny egg whites, confirming once again that he’s awful and ridiculous.

* The second course is Stefan, making Salmon with Spinach Two Ways, Roasted Potatoes and Dill Sauce for Marcus Samuelsson.

Samuelsson says Stefan nailed the flavors of Sweden, but fish is overcooked. Dufresne agrees that it’s horribly overcooked. Pepin likes the dill sauce and thinks it’s well seasoned. Susan Ungarro can’t tell the difference between the two types of spinach.

* Third course is Hosea for Susan Ungaro. He’s made Shrimp Scampi with Tomatoes Provencal and Beurre Blanc.

Samuelsson calls it a good balance of creativity and traditional, but Pepin thinks Hosea didn’t cook from his gut. Toby Young calls it disappointing, while Lidia Bastianach thinks it’s too creamy. Ungaro thinks it needs garlic.

* We see Fabio struggling with his chicken and his broken hand. He tells us “I start to butcher the sheeken weeth the clehver, like Zhayson on Friday the thirteen.”

I think since there are only two weeks left, we can clearly and confidently say that Fabio’s accent will NEVER be old.

Cooking for Lidia, Fabio has made Roasted Chicken with Herb Roasted Potatoes and Caramelized Cipollini, and a Leafy Salad with Carrots, Heirloom Tomatoes and Olive Oil.

Wylie Dufresne says the chicken is awesome and that this is the first course where he can imagine someone channeling the chef properly. However, he says he’s had better salad on an airplane. Samuelsson adds that this is the first dish that could go straight into a restaurant. Lidia says it’s exactly what she wanted.

I totally want to snuggle Jacques Pepin (OMGJacquesPepin!!!!). He is adorable.

* We finally get to his meal, prepared by Carla. She has made Squab with Lemon Thyme Butter Sauce, Demi Glace and Butter Tarragon Peas.

Ungaro says that Carla has made her a squab convert, but Samuelsson says that the breast is overcooked. Tom Colicchio appreciates the audacity of doing something so simple. Pepin thinks the peas are absolutely scrumptious. He could die happy with it.

* The chefs are paraded out. Tom assures them they did a great job, and the famous chefs applaud for them.

Carla interviews “If I go home tonight, it would break me.” Commercial.

* Back! Stew room. Leah doesn’t know what she wouldn’ve done if she fucked her hand up. Given her previous behaviour this season, I think the clear answer to that is "give up like the quitting skank you are, and pout in the hopes that someone finks youw so pwetty that they'll let you stay."

Clearly of the same mind, Fabio says “whad you wan’ me to do? Eez Top Chef, not Top Pussy.” First of all, YES, Fabio. Thank you. That’s not only true (and a great way to tell fucking Leah and Hosea to STOP THEIR DAMNED WHINING), it’s also the best “It’s Top Chef, not top. . . “ (Sommelier, Waiter, Sous Chef, etc) in the history of the show, ever. Please, Bravo. PUT IT ON A SHIRT.

Second, OH MY GOD, THEY DIDN’T BLEEP THAT???? I mean, I know it's 10 p.m. and all, but seriously?

* Padma invites everyone back to Judges’ Table.

* Leah is told that Pepin liked the eggs’ texture but found them undercooked, and that the Hollandaise was too thin.

* Tom tells Stefan that the salmon was overcooked. Padma adds that the two ways the spinach was cooked were indistinguishable. They also thought there was too much cream between the creamy sauce and the cream on the spinach, and Toby wanted crispier potatoes.

* For Hosea, Padma says that Susan liked it, but Tom clarifies that it wasn’t her idea of a scampi. Pepin tells Hosea that the tomatoes were too refined.

Hosea “I wanted it to look refined. I wouldn’t want to put out anything that looks ugly.”
Pepin: “You should be worried for taste, you know?”

YAY!!!!!!! Suck that, Hosea. The most adorable little man in the world (OMGJacquesPepin!!!) just smacked you down, bitch.

* Turning to Fabio, Padma says the chicken was delicious and Lydia was happy. Tom says that the one problem was the salad, and repeats Dufresne’s crack about it being airline salad.

* Winding up with Carla, we once again get the Jacques/Tom disagreement about the cooking on the squab. Carla almost looks like she’s crying as Pepin compliments her. It’s sweet.

* Deliberation: Pepin talks about how it’s a difficult thing “to create disappointment” by choosing a winner and loser. To Padma, the decision on winner is between the chicken and the squab. Tom says Fabio’s chicken was “a dish that makes you.”

Pepin adds that “two perfect thing I ate tonight were the peas of Carla and the potato of Fabio,” but Tom would’ve liked to see more incorporation of the peas.

* On the bad side, Stefan’s salmon was overcooked but the rest of the dish was good. Tom has more of the problem with Leah’s thin hollandaise and runny eggs. They liked the bacon .

* Toby’s least favorite dish was Hosea’s. Pepin hedges that technically, he did everything right. Toby complains that “it was ambitious and well executed. But overall, it lacked impact. It was a little bit dull.” Tom questions whether he deserves to lose for that.

Commercial.

* Back! Tom does his usual recappage, and says they were unanimous in their choice of winner. Jacques announces. . .FABIO!!!!!!! He’s through to New Orleans, and he’s wona bottle of Terlato Angels’ Peak wine and a 3 day 2 night trip to their vineyard. NOM.

* Carla is also going to the semi-final round. They get to leave the kitchen and start celebrating. Carla compares herself to a tortoise who’s picked up speed throughout the competition. It's kind of hilarious.

* Bottom three. Leah’s egg was undercooked and the sauce would’ve been right the first time. Stefan’s flavors were great but the salmon was overcooked. Hosea’s wasn’t a scampi. Tom says they all deserve to go to New Orleans (no they don't), but only two of them can.

* Leah is told to pack her knives and go. HA-HA!

* Leah monotones about how the competition was really hard for her, but she made friends with people she’ll stay friends with. She thinks she’s way better than the food she cooked. Oh, and she's a hooker who somehow relied on her negligible looks and charm to skate through a competition past chefs who were way more qualified, and she has horrible taste in men.

Ok, maybe I'm the one who said that last part.

* And somewhere in the middle of that Hosea says “now he has one more person to cook for.” Yes, that makes you rootable—repping for the stank bitch you cheated on your girlfriend with. What a stand up guy you are, SnagglePuss.

* The final four all interview about why they deserve to be in the final four, and Hosea does his usual spiel about how he’s going to kick Stefan’s ass. Which, you’ll notice, he never ever does.

* Next: New Orleans! Emeril! Fabio has a Mohawk??? and Carla’s hair is straight. A Masked Ball!

Blame Bravo, Muffins. . .

. . . .mummy can't steal pictures if this is what they have up:

I mean, my part of the job is finished. Everything's written. But there are no pretty pictures to throw in, and no one wants to look at 7 pages of me being vaguely clever without something to rest their eyes.

I'll try to get something going later in the day, but it depends largely on a) how much actual work I have to do at work, and b) when Bravo gets their act together.

In the meantime, decide what you think about the forthcoming Top Chef: Masters--brilliant idea or Celebrity Apprentice style disaster? And in keeping with this week's Elimination Challenge, what would you have for your last meal?

Please, Mr. Postman (Part 2)

So a couple of people asked about the vintage Trixie Belden books I mentioned in passing yesterday, and while I wasn't planning to write about them, I figured they fit with this week's theme of "things that have come in the mail recently," so what the hell.

Here's the story. In May, I went home to Arizona to help clean out my parents' house before they moved to Tennessee. Beforehand, we'd had several touching family conversations about making hard choices, and what they'd be able to store for me, and not hanging onto unnecessary crap. And then there was my mother's frequent adjuration that I'd have to get rid of some of those [profanity] [profanity] [profanity] books that had been gathering dust in their storage room since 1999.

And I did. I'm not going to say I did a good job, or even an ok job, because really compared to most people I probably did an entirely piss poor job. But for me--a person with a love for books that borders on pathology--it was impressive. I dumped a lot of cheezy '80's and '90's YA paperbacks. I was merciless in purging Bobbsey Twins and Nancy Drew, getting rid of all the yellow and purple spined hardbacks and keeping only firsts and rare editions. And my entire collection of Donna Parkers went to the donation box for the Visiting Nurses' Booksale.

Trixie Belden was harder. I love Trixie Belden. I could write an entire, lengthy post--screw that, I could write an entire separate but equally wordy blog on exactly why I love Trixie Belden--but I've still got to shower and wash my hair this morning. But that made thinning the herd on my extesive collection of Trixie Beldens a tough prospect.

So I applied the same sort of principle I did to the other classics: I kept two sorts of hardbacks, the Pictorial covers and the Whitman Deluxe editions, which left me with about 6 or 7 books. I ditched the slim '70's hardbacks ("Uglies") and the yellow "Oval" paperbacks from the '80's.

But I did that with a plan. The plan was to come back to DC and slowly acquire the books from each edition that I didn't have. This would mean that eventually, I'd have books 1-10 in the pictorial covers and 1-15 in the Deluxe.

(And the other part of the plan was that I'd reread them and start a separate but equally wordy blog where I did analyses of them that were one part quasi-academic and two parts Dairi Burger-esque lovingly nostalgic snark. But only the first half of that panned out.)

Anyway, I was in the acquiring and rereading portion of that plan. Things were going fairly well, and then I got to The Happy Valley Mystery. The Deluxe version was sitting in my parents' new basement, and I couldn't get my hands on a pictorial edition for the life of me.

So I caved and bought the Whitman Cameo. And since god forbid I only have one book in that edition, I started buying the other books in Whitman Cameos. And somewhere along the line (I don't remember when or why--I think I blacked out for awhile there in a combined nostalgia/e-bay high) I started buying the Random House reissues.

Anyway, ten months later this is the result:
Between these and the ones in storage, I currently have full sets of the Deluxe Edition and the Pictorial Covers--Dust Jackets for books 1 & 2; Cello for the rest. I have all the Whitman Cameos except 1, 4, 5, and 13, and all the reissues except 7-12.

Somewhere along the line, I guess I became a collector. I have really mixed feelings about this. Both because of extensive studies in postmodernism and personal experience, I find collecting weird and fetishy and a little bit creepy and frequently borderline sad. I was always proud of myself for not really collecting anything--not with intention at least (look, I have a lot of stuffed rabbits, but that's because people thrust them upon me, not because I set out to get them). I've acquired a lot of stuff, yes. But this is the first thing I've ever really gone out on a mission and collected. And it feels kind of icky.

But on the other hand, it's Trixie Belden. And Trixie Belden rocks. She could kick Nancy Drew's ass six ways from Sunday with one hand tied behind her back.