Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Rocco's Drinking Party

So let me just say off the bat: for the most part, I am enjoying Rocco's Dinner Party.

(let me also, off the bat, apologize for the total absence of images in this post. Blogger is being fekakta).

I like the concept. I like the opportunity it provides for meaningless celebrity gazing. I even like Rocco's nastiness to the contestants -- I have developed in my head a secret backstory for the show, where Rocco is an insane millionaire who traps chefs in his loft, forces them to cook for him, and then the winner is released while the losers are fed to his pet crocodiles. (I even tried to write a recap of it along these lines last week, but I got no further than "Deep in the bowels of Rocco DiSpirito's stately manor. . ." when I went "oh, Jesus," and quit).

But I will also say: I find it really sags in the middle. Once the two chefs who will be preparing the dinner parties have met with the planner, I kind of stop paying attention for half an hour. I know they're going to be preparing good, servicable food, but I have no hopes that they're going to prepare something that's such a new concept that it rocks my world, or even something that I'm going to really, really want to get the recipe for and make.

And I'll also say: it's already really predictable. We've had two episodes in which there's one super cocky, super experienced male chef; one nice male chef with a less impressive resume, and one female chef. In both episodes, the female chef has gone home in the first round. In both episodes, the nice male chef with the less impressive resume has ended up winning. In both episodes, one chef has had a clearly articulated vision to convey to the planner while the other has kind of floundered.

I can see how it could get really old, really fast...if it hasn't for you already.

So here's what I propose: let's use it as an excuse to get plowed.

I present to you... Rocco's Dinner Party: The Drinking Game.

There will be a set of general every-episode rules that I outline in this post. Then, each Wednesday morning, I will post rules specific to that week's episode and celebrity guests (this weeks are at the end of the general rules).

You will need: 1) A television with Bravo; 2) a lot of the booze of your choice.

Ready? Let's play.

General Rules:
Part One: Introduction and the Signature Dish Challenge
1. If there are two male chefs and one female chef, take a sip of your drink.
2. If one chef has a noticeably better resume than the others, take a sip of your drink while holding your pinky finger out.
3. If one chef calls another a "definite threat," take a sip of your drink.
4. If one dismisses the others as "not a threat to me," finish your glass.
5. Every time Rocco sidles up to the chefs during their prep time, invading their personal space and destroying their concentration, take a drink.
6. For every snippy comment Rocco makes during tasting, take a drink.
7. For every compliment Rocco gives during tasting, take two drinks.
8. If the only female chef goes home after the Signature Dish Challenge, take a drink and gargle it to the tune of "I Am Woman."
9. If the female chef stays after the Signature Dish Challenge, pound two glasses of your beverage, pause your TV, and sing "I Will Survive" while running in place. (Don't worry; this will never, ever happen)

Part Two: Party Planning and Prep
1. If the theme is lame (e.g. "Mystery Guest"), take a drink of water.
2. If the planner obviously favors one chef's plan over the other, take a drink of your favorite beverage (even if that's not the one you're using for that night's game)
3. If the chefs can't find a critical ingredient during shopping, hide your drink from yourself. You may be so drunk at this point that you won't be able to find it until morning, at which point you should finish the glass.
4. Take a drink every time one chef mocks the other during prep
5. Take one drink for every food restriction Rocco's guests have that he doesn't tell the chefs about until the last possible minute.
6. If the planners have had problems executing one chef's "vision," take a drink.

Part Three: Hail, Hail, the Gang's All Here
1. For every actual, famous guest who enters (e.g. Liza Minnelli), take a dainty sip of your drink.
2. For every "Bravolebrity" who enters (Housewives, hosts or past contestants from other shows, etc), drain your glass and then flip a table.
3. For every guest who's clearly tied to the night's theme (e.g. an actor from Boardwalk Empire during the "Speakeasy" dinner), do a waterfall (this is hard if you watch alone, I know, but maybe you can get your cat to slurp out of his bowl while you drink).
4. If a guest fulfills your existing perception of him/her (e.g. Padma sexily describing potato skins), take a drink
5. If a guest subverts your existing perception of him/her (e.g. the actor who played Omar on The Wire comes to dinner wearing a cardigan sweater that would do Bill Cosby proud), finish your drink and give yourself a stern talking to about how assuming makes an ASS of U and MING.
6. If you have no idea who any of these people are... you're probably not watching the show. But take a drink while patting yourself on the back for being too classy for your own good.
7. If the chefs freak out about one or more of the guests, take a drink while jumping up and down.

Part Four: And Now. . .WE DINE
1. If there's a problem with the service, finish your drink and then drop your glass.
2. For every dish everyone hates, take a drink while holding your nose.
3. For every dish everyone loves, take a drink while rubbing your belly.
4. If someone tries something s/he has never had before, go to the kitchen, get a mixer you don't usually use with your beverage (e.g. gingerale with red wine; orange juice with absinthe), and add an ounce of it to your glass. Then chug.
5. If someone with a restricted diet gets a plate that doesn't honor those restrictions, take a drink with either a Benadryl or a Tums.
6. If the chef with the less impressive sounding resume wins, toast him and drain your glass.

For this week only:
1. For every twin joke, take a drink.
2. For every Real Housewives joke, give your drink a stupid name ("Skinny Girl Margarita" "Fabullini" "Ramona Pinot Grigio" "Tamra"), flip a table, accuse another person in the room (or your pet) of not "having your back", chug your drink, and then act like you're trying to cry but can't because of all the Botox.
3. For every N'Sync reference, especially if actual lyrics are quoted, take a drink while doing a '90's style boy band dance.
4. Every time Caroline brings up her sons, Albie and Christopher, take a drink.
5. If she tries to set any single women at the party up with Albie, take two drinks.
6. If she tries to set them up with Christopher, drain your glass (she never tries to set Christopher up with anyone).
7. Every time someone makes a sweeping generalization about Italian or Italian-American families or culture, finish your drink while gesticulating wildly.

I look forward to hearing about your hangovers.

Monday, June 27, 2011

Corn, Corn, it Makes You Glad You're Born

Let’s talk about soup.

I know, I know – it’s the end of June, and regardless of where you are, you think it’s too hot for soup.

Well, you’re wrong. It might be too hot for certain kinds of soups – particularly hearty beef stews, perhaps, or ones like butternut squash that are dependent on autumn vegetables – but soup itself is never out of season.

When I was younger, I had a very old, very obscure, and kind of racist “mystery novel for girls” called The Chinese Pagoda Mystery (it is so old and obscure, apparently, that it doesn’t exist on The Google at present*, which makes me glad that my copy still resides somewhere in a box in my parents’ house). One of the moments from it I’ll always remember is that while the intrepid girl sleuths were hanging out in the pagoda one day, one of them complains about the heat and the other makes them hot tea. She points out that in novels set in Empire era India, the heat is described so well you can feel it, and then relieved when a servant arrives in the narrative with tea.

As ridiculous as that anecdote seems on any number of levels, the point is that hot drinks on hot days don’t make you hotter – they can be quite refreshing. And I put soup in the same category – a cup of delicious, piping hot soup in the middle of a hot day can be the perfect pick-me-up, and it won’t make you sullen and sleepy the way a heavier meal – hot or cold – might.

So I eat a lot of soups, year ‘round, and since I try to make a fair percentage of the food I eat, I make a lot of soups. As a result, I’ve been burning through the soup recipes in Gwyneth Paltrow’s cookbook, and for the most part, I’ve been quite satisfied.

We’ve discussed the white bean soup, which, if you’ll recall, was amazing. Now let’s talk about corn chowder. Corn chowder, in my mind, is the ultimate summer soup. You’ve got the crisp, sweet, summery taste of corn in the form of a delicious, creamy soup.

And in this one, you’ve also got bacon. The original recipe calls for two slices of turkey bacon, diced, and some butter. But as you know, turkey gives me syphilis, so I was pleased to see a note at the bottom of the recipe saying that you could also “make this with…pork bacon instead…in which case you won’t need the butter.”

So I diced two slices of bacon and tossed it into my soup pot, and let it brown up for four minutes while I poked at it periodically. And then I threw in 2 peeled and diced shallots, a half of a large yellow onion, some thyme, and a bay leaf, and cooked that for about five minutes, stirring it on occasion.

The next step, clearly, is corn. The recipe calls for the kernels from 6 ears of corn, but because I tend to be horrifically lazy on weekends, there were only four decent ears of corn at the market by the time I went. So I cut the kernels off of those ears, and then also used a bit more than a cup of (thawed) frozen kernels to make up the difference.

After that business and some salt and pepper had been allowed to hang out together for a minute, I added 2 cups of vegetable stock, a cup of milk, and the denuded corn cobs and allowed that all to come to a boil. Then I smacked a lid on it and let it simmer for 30 minutes.

Mmmmm... reminds me of Sanctuary.

After the 30 minutes was up, I fished the cobs and bay leaves out of the soup pot and poured a ladleful of soup into the little cup thing that came with my immersion blender, which I find does a better job of completely obliterating soup bits than my standing blender does. I zapped it thoroughly, and then returned it to the soup pot, adding a bit more salt and pepper before dishing myself up a portion.


I wish the color in that showed up better, because it’s a really delightful shade of pale sunshiney yellow, studded through with brighter gold spots from the corn and delicious little chunks of bacon. And it is so, so good. It’s got a texture as smooth, soft, and rich as a new beach blanket, and the combination of the sweet corn and smoky bacon flavors is like having a whole picnic in a single cup.

In short? It’s summer in soup form. Enjoy it before the weather gets too cold.

*I have seen copies on e-bay in the past, so I’m confident that I’ve got the name right.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Top Chef Masters: Congratumalations. . .

ADDENDUM: Well, if that doesn't just beat all hell.

Congratumalations... Floyd???? Seriously????

I don't get it. Not in terms of the set up to a lady winner that we've been seeing all season, nor in terms of the 40 minutes of the show I caught last night, where it seemed -- to my half-listening ears, at least -- like everything was trending pretty cut-and-dried in Mary Sue's direction.

But whatever, I guess. Good job, Floyd. You and your penis managed it. I don't know how, but you did. And frankly, I liked you better than either of those dames, so I'm pleasantly surprised.

Although really, pleasantly surprised doesn't seem to cover it. Pleasantly pretty fucking dumbstruck is more like it.

So... thoughts on whatever that was in the comments after the post I wrote and pre-set yesterday morning. Oh, and I did very much enjoy Rocco's dinner party, for reasons I'll elaborate on at a later date (but it had a lot to do with the fact that not only does the series, at some point, include Caroline Manzo AND Liza Minnelli, but the premiere involved Sal Romano AND Chalky White).

ORIGINAL POST:

. . . to whichever of these broads managed to pull out the win.

(Seriously, I have no idea. Didn't watch. Went to the Nats/Cardinals game. The only thing I do know is that it's got to be one of these two. If it's Floyd, I will eat my hat)

You can use the comments to say what you like about the season, or make a convincing case for me to actually watch the finale instead of deleting it from my DVR without bothering.

Or you can give your opinion on whether or not I should bother with Rocco's Dinner Party. I mean, on the one hand....Rocco. Meh. On the other...Caroline Manzo AND Liza Minnelli!!!!!

Sunday, June 12, 2011

Top Chef Masters: In Which I Say "Uncle."

Dear Top Chef Masters,

I have lost all interest.

I'm sorry.

You had a good thing going. And you screwed it up, frankly, in several different ways. Let's look at them:

1) You changed the format so that instead of being a slight shift from the regular seasons of Top Chef, you became a mere rehash of it.

2) You revamped the judges, getting rid of the two who frequently had the most interesting things to say (Gael Greene's Hat and Jay Raymer), leaving only James Oseland, who has nakedly played favorites in every season. You then replaced the intelligent, articulate judges with a rotating bunch of 20-something sycophants (seriously, the contrast between Gael/Jay and Danyelle/Creepy Allen is like the contrast between a couture gown and a prom dress from Macy's Junior Department), and, periodically, with Ruth Reichl, who is apparently so weighed down by her giant hair that she can only gesticulate. The hair has leeched her brain of all power to do anything beyond making the same two or three vague movements with your hands.

3) The chefs. Seriously, where did you find these people? I realize you may've shot your wad a bit by having so many great chefs in the first two seasons, but really. You couldn't do better than this lot? You couldn't invite Wylie Dufresne and Graham Elliot and all the other people who've been knocked out in the first round in seasons one and two back to give it one more go?

4) Curtis Stone. Seriously. Why? Why did you do this? I realize that K-Choi wasn't the most charismatic or interesting host in reality TV, but did you think that replacing her with this overexposed Aussie surf hunk was a good move? I don't get it.

But the worst thing was

5) You got so. Fucking. Predictable. Your desire to have a female winner was so naked that it made the outcomes of the individual episodes easy to forecast. What did I say last week? Oh, that's right:

I will say that I think this episode was a pretty clear set up for a Floyd/Mary Sue/ Traci finale.

That's right. That's what I said. And what did you do this week? Knock out Naomi and set things up for a Floyd/Mary Sue/Traci finale.

I can't even muster the energy to give a crap about whether Traci or Mary Sue emerges the ultimate winner -- because again, the desire to have a female winner has been so nakedly displayed that anyone who thinks sweet, loveable Floyd and his penis have a chance hasn't been watching the show.

I'm still interested, a bit, in a vague sort of casual way. I'll still probably watch the finale at some point, but I won't be recapping it. I have had it with this crapfest, Bravo. It's not worth my energy, and it's certainly not worth arranging my Wednesday nights around, or finding a spot of time sometime during the weekend to get caught up on.

Sincerely,
Jordan Baker

(To the rest of you: I'm sorry. I just couldn't keep up with it. It was driving me mad with boredom, and plus if you go back and look through how long there has consistently been some iteration of Top Chef and/or Project Runway on the air... I need the break. I'll definitely be back for Project Runway when it starts up later this summer, and I may do something quick and dirty with Rocco's show, because seriously, it's got Liza Minnelli and Caroline Manzo in the commercials. How could I resist? And maybe with less of a locked in schedule, I'll free myself up to actually write about other things more often, and get around to fulfilling those promises I made to the Haiku-Limerick and Limerick-Haiku contest winners back in April)



Monday, June 06, 2011

Brownies: Do a GOOP Turn Daily

It all started with Rocco DiSpirito.

Actually, before it started with Rocco DiSpirito, it started with Ellie Krieger. But I don’t like to blame Ellie Krieger for things, because I like her recipes and I like her. Whereas with Rocco… my feelings run the gamut from “meh” all the way to “augh, shut up and die, famewhore.”

Anyway, Ellie Krieger. I had made her macaroni and cheese this winter, and either because I did something wrong or because it contained 20 oz of pureed squash, the whole thing was a mess. It looked like macaroni and cheese – beautiful, orange, macaroni and cheese – but it tasted like squash. It actually made me angry every time I tried to eat it. I’d get lured in by the delicious appearance, and then I’d take a bite and suddenly it was “gaaaah! Squash!!!” all over again.

So it started because I was looking for a macaroni and cheese recipe that wouldn’t be 90 million calories, but also wouldn’t taste like squash. I picked up Rocco’s Now Eat This! cookbook because his recipe looked promising – and it turned out to be quite good. So I was skimming the book for other recipes I thought I’d enjoy (the black bean soup is excellent), and my eye wandered, as it does, to the dessert section.

I realized quickly that I would probably never make any of the desserts from this cookbook, because they all involve cups and cups of artificial sweetener. And I hate artificial sweetener – it’s odd, because I used to eat and drink it by the bucketful, but about a year and a half ago I cut it out. And now it tastes awful and gives me the worst headache if I have even a teaspoon of it.

As I was reading about things with 6 cups of Splenda and 9 cups of Truvia, I came across his recipe for brownies. Twenty four packets of Truvia. Egg substitute. And 1 ½ cans of black beans.

“Black beans?” I asked myself. “In brownies?” I shuddered, and tried not to think about it. But then a few days later, a friend of mine sent me some kind of article about dessert trends or something like that. She’d sent it because one of the desserts was some kind of bacon topped cupcake, but the second or third one down was another recipe for brownies with black beans in them.

“More brownies with beans,” I said. “This is starting to make me and the Baby Jesus very angry.” And then that very weekend I was cleaning the house with the Food Network on, and Melissa d’Arabian was making one of her (allegedly) $10 Dinners. And for dessert? She was making black bean brownies.

“Universe!” I said aloud. “No matter how many signs you send me, I have NO INTENTION of putting beans in my brownies!”

I mean, I love black beans. I love them in salads and soups and burritos and nachos. . .but I do not want them in my brownies. No way, no how. Do not tell me how good they taste – I will call you a hippie and a liar. I’ll know you’re a hippie because you’re putting beans in your brownies, and I’ll know you’re a liar because a friend of mine made Rocco’s bean brownies – despite my warning him that doing so would make me and Jesus very, very angry with him – and he said they were awful, and tasted like Truvia and beans. Bleh.

But beyond the obvious wrongness of beans interfering with your dessert, I get upset about the epidemic of bean brownies for one of the same reasons I hated the macaroni and squash – I don’t like foods pretending to be what they’re not. I’m not talking about cute little tromp l’oeil’s or “tasty fakes” where your dessert looks like a hot dog or the watermelon that Floyd cut to look like tuna for his Kama Sutra Shrimp (finally got around to watching that episode. Rather liked it). I’m talking about all this vegetable smuggling – this trick of hiding vegetables in other foods to con ourselves into eating something good for us.

I mean, what are we? A nation of fucking children? Vegetables are delicious. Beans are delicious; squash is delicious. And on the converse, brownies are delicious, as is mac and cheese. Why can’t we just enjoy all the delicious things separately and really enjoy their various sorts of deliciousness instead of trying to combine them into one dish that ends up being a pathetic, tasteless counterfeit of what we really want?

Which is why I was glad to discover that Gwyneth Paltrow’s cookbook has a recipe for “Fudgy Chocolate Brownies.” And that right under the title it says “these are about as healthy as brownies can get, with no flavor sacrifice.” And that in the list of ingredients, there is nary a bean. Nor a Truvia packet.

It does call for spelt flour, but I used whole wheat. 2 cups of that and a cup of cocoa powder get sifted with a tablespoon and a half of baking powder and a pinch of salt.

Then in a second bowl, you combine a half cup of vegetable oil with a cup of maple syrup, a half cup of brown rice syrup (or light agave nectar), a half cup each of strong brewed coffee and soy milk (I used actual milk – I am not a soy fan)and a tablespoon of vanilla. Yeah, it looks a bit grotty in that picture, but it all blends fine.

Mix those together and throw in a half cup of chocolate chips. Then pour it into your greased baking pan, and sprinkle another half cup of chocolate chips over the top.

It all gets baked for about half an hour in a 350 degree oven, and when it comes out….

Calling them “Fudgy Chocolate Brownies” is an understatement. These are delicious, gooey, fudge-tacular brownies. They are melt in your mouth soft and so delicious when they’re warm. I recommend either eating them all immediately shortly after they come out of the oven, or reheating them individually if you feel you must exercise discretion.

Thursday, June 02, 2011

Top Chef Masters: Science, Sustenance, and Second Chances

I know. I’m the worst. The. Worst.

Let me explain: I was sitting on my couch two Wednesdays ago, ready to watch Gael Greene’s Hat do her thing, and my phone rang. And I got sucked into a call that went on for forty-five minutes, and by the end of it, it was too late to start the episode then, so I figured I’d get to it. . .sometime in the next few days.

And then I spent the next few days going to various events and getting my hair done prior to said events and showing guests who were in town for said events around said town between events.

Also, I was a little freaked out by Blogger's shenanigans -- the previous post disappeared for a few days, then it was back with no comments, and now the comments are back...I still have no idea what happened.

But I thought “no biggie. Bravo is taking next week off. I’ll just use next week as my this week, and write a week behind, and it won’t matter.”

And then. . .I found a giant, painful lump in my armpit on Wednesday night, and I freaked the fuck out and had to sedate myself into a near coma state just to sleep through to the next morning so I could get to the doctor’s first thing the next morning.

Long story short (too late!) – it was just a swollen lymph node; it has already de-swelled, and I am enjoying all the grotesque side-effects (feminine and otherwise) listed on the Amoxicillin bottle.

So while I probably could have watched the previous episode this weekend and written about it, I was too busy trying not to think about how everything I ate got pooped out immediately, how I had intense stomach pains if I didn’t eat because my body was trying to find something to poop and thought my innards might do the trick, and how my nether parts were itching – oh my god, how they were itching.

Aren’t you glad you asked?

But now I’m back, and Ruth Reichl’s giant wall of hair is back too after having disappeared after the second episode – how the hell did she con her way into a “regular” credit on the show when she’s only been in three of eight episodes so far? And Hugh is back to being gone, just like he was at the end of the first episode.

I will miss Hugh. In a snoozer of a season, he’s been one of the few chefs to demonstrate any sort of personality. But really, he made mayonnaise. He had to leave.

The episode was another example of an interesting conceit that really never got going – see previous note about the lack of personalities. So instead of dwelling on that any longer, suppose we just get going? And I’ll make a promise to you, test tubes: sometime this weekend, I will get around to responding tothe comments on the last post that Bravo ate for awhile and then spit back out, and I will also finally getting to write about Gwyneth Paltrow’s brownies, which I made like a million and a half years ago.

I will say that I think this episode was a pretty clear set up for a Floyd/Mary Sue/ Traci finale. A finale for which the recap will at the very least be late, conflicting as it does with the second game of a three game Cardinals/Nationals series.

Priorities, folks. Priorities.

Let’s start the show.

We open in the Masters’ Kitchen, where the 5 remaining chefs are greeted by the oozing pile of Aussie-ness that is Curtis. He tells them that they can’t use any of the cutting edge equipment in the kitchen for their quickfire – they have to use a microwave to create a breakfast dish in 10 minutes. The microwave is the only source of heat, and the dish must be hot.

Hugh remembers having an early microwave back in 1976, and one of his friends not being able to come over because his parents were afraid of radiation. My parents, conversely, did not get a microwave until the 90s, despite my periodic begging. I don’t know if it was necessarily radiation that they were concerned about, but it was some such hippieish food related belief. Anyway, I seldom use mine now, though I’m forever in the one at work reheating stuff.

Food flurry. There’s a lot of bacon and eggs going on. Naomi grew up without a microwave, and has no idea how to use it. Traci is making an egg en cocotte, but without the white because she doesn’t like the white. Mary Sue only uses the microwave to reheat her tea; she’s making a goat cheese and avocado sandwich. Nom.

Five minutes remaining. People are having bacon issues, as one often does in a microwave, I find. Nmi’s eggs aren’t cooking so she pours them over the top of everything. Twenty-seven seconds. Time! Hugh is disappointed in the cookery of the egg, but believes everyone will be in the same boat.

Their guest diners are Frangela, the female comedy duo you probably recognize from a million “I heart the” specials on VH-1. Or, at least, that’s where I recognize them from. They are masters of microwaves, because sometimes nothing’s open when they get off stage.

They open with Naomi’s Egg, Bacon, Spinach and Chanterelles on Biscuit with Fruit Salad. Part of Frangela finds the biscuit heavy. Hugh’s Baked egg, Chanterelles, Bacon and Tomato is next. The part of Frangela in the red top wishes the egg was less cooked, but the part in the purple top thinks it’s perfect.

Mary Sue’s Goat Cheese and Avocado on Baguette, Bacon Vinaigrette is messy to eat, and “more of a midnight snack” according to Frangela. Curtis compare’s Floyd’s Chanterelles, Bacon, and Spinach Omelet with Grilled Tomatoes to airplane food, but purple Frangela loves it.

Finally, they have Traci’s Oeuf en Cocotte, Chanterelles, Bacon and Bananas with Lime. They’re amazed by the presentation, say it makes them feel like they’re in the Caribbean, and use this as an excuse to encourage Curtis to take off his shirt. “I have a tip for you, ladies,” he says, “never cook bacon naked.”

This is true, by the way. I know this not because I’ve ever cooked bacon – or anything else – naked, but because I once cooked potstickers in shorts, and gave myself a second degree burn on the inside of my thigh when some of the hot oil burst out at me. I can see bacon and nudity resulting in similar problems.

“And never use a meat grinder naked either,” Floyd adds in the screening room. O…..kay. That one I can’t back up with my own experience. Ultimately, they don’t think there’s much to Traci’s egg dish.

Frangela tells the chefs that their least favorites were Mary Sue’s avocado sandwich with its hard bread and Traci’s oeuf en cocotte which was not very filling, and “too artistic”.

Their favorites were Floyd’s airplane omelet, which was “moist and delicious.” They also liked Hugh’s baked egg, which was “beautiful and inspired.” Hugh is the winner, for his 3rd quickfire win. He gets $5000 for Wholesome Wave. Floyd can’t believe he’s never won a quickfire. Commercial.

Back! Curtis tells them that recipes are a lot like scientific formulas because yada yada yada bullshit rationale for a challenge. He welcomes their laboratory assistants – “5 people in lab coats.” They’re scientists, who each have a set of ingredients that represent a scientific principle – pizza dough for elasticity, liquids for viscosity, citrus for acidity, vinegar for emulsion, and beef for the Maillard reaction.

Hugh gets to pick his principle first, and he chooses emulsion. He picks Traci to choose next, and she takes acidity. She lets Floyd go next and he gets the Maillard reaction. His pick, Mary Sue takes viscosity, and Naomi is stuck with elasticity and the fun of being the one no one picked, just like me in elementary school gym class. Wah-wah. They have to make a dish that represents their scientific principle and tastes good, and they’ll present it tomorrow at an “edible science fair.” Oh, and they’re cooking with science equipment like test tubes and beakers, and using Bunsen burners as heat.

They meet with their scientists to discuss their concepts and how to use the equipment. Mary Sue is going to make a viscosity dessert because she knows kids love sweets. Hugh isn’t stretching much beyond making dressing for his emulsification. Floyd has a Masters in biochemistry, and a handle on what he wants to do… and some regrets that his father wanted him to be a scientist or doctor, disapproved of his cooking and never got to see his success.

They head to Whole Foods for 30 minutes of shopping with a $300 budget. Hugh is making an okra salad. Naomi is making pizza dough with different types of flour to show how gluten changes elasticity. Traci is making a ceviche. With 6 minutes left, Floyd runs off to the meat counter, and gets a steak with less than a minute left using Hugh and Mary Sue as a relay.

Back to the kitchen/lab with 4 hours to prep. Mary Sue is trying to fry in a huge beaker on her Bunsen burner, which looks awesome. She’s making churros with different sauces to show the different rates at which the liquids run. Floyd is making beef 2 ways to demonstrate the Maillard reaction – one will be poached to show that if you cook at a low temperature, you don’t get the Maillard reaction. He really wants to win this one – he’s been in the top with Mary Sue twice, and she’s beaten him both times -- and feels lie he has a chance because it’s science based. Hugh is having a hard time keeping his scientist in line. In fairness to Hugh, the scientist is kind of a joyless dick. In fairness to the scientist, though, Hugh has somehow managed to make it into grown-ass-manhood while still retaining the lovely “science is for NERDS” attitude he probably had in high school.

Traci is going to show how the acid in the lemon can cook the fish without heat. 5 minutes. Naomi’s calzones are blowing out in the hot oil. She’s stressed. Commercial.

Back. It’s the next morning and they have 1 and a half hours to prep in the Masters’ kitchen. The scientists help them and set up their demonstration stations in the “science fair” room. Floyd breaks a Bunsen burner, and thinks that winning this challenge would be a great way to honor the Young Scientists Cancer Research Foundation. Naomi knows that there’s a lot that could go wrong with her little calzones. Mary Sue’s oil isn’t staying hot once she drops the churros in.

Hugh is getting some static from his scientist for not demonstrating the emulsion. “You wanna play good scientist bad scientist?” Hugh asks “You’re not a scientist. You have to be curious to be a scientist,” his scientist sneers. Dayum.

The kids enter the edible science fair and spread out among the stations, many of them heading out to Mary Sue’s churro station. The judges soon follow – Curtis, Padma, Ruth Reichl’s giant freaking hair, and Oseland.

Hugh has made Augustine into a reluctant straight man for his routine. Ruth tells him she’s glad to see he’s still here. Oh, that’s right – our “regular judge” was here for the first episode, where Hugh got ousted, and then the second one. . .and then hasn’t been heard of since. She’s totally earning her paycheck, Ruth Reichl is. It was totally worth replacing Gael Greene’s Hat with this absentee wall of hair. Well done, Bravo. Good choice on that one.

Padma and Curtis start at Mary Sue’s station and to learn about viscosity and get some Dulce De Leche Churros, Chocolate Mousse and Spiced Café de Olla. Hugh tells Ruth Reichl’s Hair and James Oseland’s …Suspenders about the principle of emulsion and how that’s demonstrated in his Fried Okra Salad with Tomato, Fennel, Bacon, and Green Goddess Dressing.

Next we see Curtis and Padma getting Traci’s Tuna Carpaccio and Ahi Tuna Tartare to see the different effects of acid, and Suspenders and Hair getting a lesson in elasticity through Naomi’s Fried {Pizzetta with Mozzarella, Salumi, and Green Olive Marinara and Calzone with Truffle, Mozarella, Chanterelles and Arugula with Veal and Balsamic Gelee.

Floyd struggles with his broth overreducing on the Bunsen burner, and he has to add water to it. Curtis and Padma arrive at his station and get his Maillard reacting Spice Crusted Beef, Mushrooms, Asparagus, and Fried Potatoes (nom) and non-Maillard reacting poached Beef Shabu-Shabu.

We see short clips of the judges going around to the stations we didn’t see them at the first time, and then they regroup to compare notes. The chefs hug their scientists goodbye. Naomi is disappointed that “at the end of the day, I served a pizza pocket.” Commercial.

Fakeback. Naomi says she’s always been more of a “natural sciences person,” and started putting off all her homework in college to cook dinner parties for her scientist roommates.

Back. Curtis tells them he loved the edible science fair, and calls them all back to the Critics’ Table. Ruth Reichl peers at them from under her tarp of hair. The two favorites overall were Mary Sue and Floyd – just as Floyd predicted. Ruth Reichl’s hair says that Mary Sue’s presentation was compelling and her food was delicious. James Oseland’s suspenders says Floyd’s demonstration was great and he loved the broth. And the one who wins $10,000 for their charity is. .. Mary Sue. Oh, poor Floyd. Oseland wishes Mary Sue was his science teacher. She’s earned $30,000 for Share Our Strength to date.

Mary Sue and Floyd go back to the wine room. “Sorry to steal it from you,” Mary Sue whispers. Floyd is happy she won, but hates coming in second to her.

Back in the critics’ table, Naomi explains why she had things out that they could touch. Oseland says that maybe she had too many things out there. Padma says her calzone was soggy. Oseland liked Hugh’s explanation, but the emulsification in his mayonnaise had started to come apart at the sides. Ruth Reichl’s hair is disappointed that he chose the most obvious route. Curtis found Traci’s demonstration obvious. Ruth Reichl’s hair wishes she’d shown the flavor of acid more. Padma says she should’ve showcased several different types of acid.

Curtis sends them back to the wine room. Naomi thinks she’s going.

Back in the critics’ table room, Padma talks about how messy Hugh’s salad was, and Ruth Reichl’s hair thinks he mailed it in.

Ok, looking at this picture, I'm suddenly aware that it's not that Ruth Reichl's hair is so huge in this episode -- it's more that she has tremendously unflattering bangs and the hair wings out from the sides of her head a little. She's a tiny lady, and this haircut is swallowing her. Please, Ruth Reichl -- change to a haircut that doesn't consume your features this way.

Anyway. On more relevant matters, Oseland says Traci’s food “wasn’t that delicious for me,” thus retaining his title as Giver of World's Shittiest and Least Specific Critiques, and that she didn’t demonstrate the principle. Padma says again that it was too obvious. Curtis feels like Naomi didn’t really do a demonstration, and Padma talks more about the soggy calzone. Oseland says it “spurt[ed] in your mouth in the most unpleasant way.” That’s what she said. Commercial.

Back. Oseland says that Naomi’s elasticity explanation was “muddy.” Padma tells Hugh he didn’t highlight the emulsification. Ruth Reichl’s hair wishes Traci had dug deeper. And the chef leaving tonight. .. is Hugh. He leaves with $15,000 for Wholesome Wave.

Hugh says it’s a great honor to have been here for his charity, and a lot of fun. He says some other things, but I keep thinking about how much he must hate Ruth Reichl and her giant hair colony – in the 5 episodes where she was off writing annoying, gnomic tweets, he did really well. But in 2 of the 3 episodes where she was around, he got bounced.

Next time: Naomi is screaming at some guy behind a screen. Soldiers! Floyd cries.