Top Chef: Chili Today, Hot Tamale

Richie Farina
Your name is a cereal
Your palate, salty.

I know. I know, I know, I know. I am the WORST.

Here’s my very short litany of excuses: I was super, super sick last weekend. Like two days on the couch, breathing through my mouth, eating only broth and toast sick. I watched a LOT of TV, but the last thing I wanted to do was think about any of it. So I never got around to recapping last week’s episode, which I feel doubly bad about since I’ve been dying for them to do a snake challenge for years now, and which one do I drop the ball on? The one with the snake challenge. Dammit. Mea culpa.

Mea NOT culpa, though, for this week’s being a day late. I was all but finished when I went to bed Wednesday night. I woke up Thursday morning, made the dessert to take to Thanksgiving, and then sat down to add the pictures and put on the finishing touches.

And Bravo’s website was COMPLETELY fekakta. Selecting Top Chef from any menu redirected you to a page from the second season of Shear Genius. The pictures weren’t there. Everything was jacked, and if I couldn’t get it done first thing in the morning, I knew I wasn’t going to have time during the rest of the day.

But here we are, now, with all of the pictures and most (ahem, Bravo interns) of the food descriptions up on the site, ready to rock and roll.

So Richie. I liked Richie, right up until the point the crying started. I was kind of hoping he’d make it awhile, and at the very least, I wanted him to make it past his boss or mentor or brother or whatever they call each other in their weird little too-close-for-comfort relationship. Because frankly, Chris Jones comes across as a bit of a douche, and even though Richie is right in there with him in their insane “do it for Moto / I failed Moto” Stockholm syndrome or whatever it is, Richie seemed a bit sweeter and more genuine.

And then he just lost it there at the end, and I couldn’t help but pull my head back a little and go “dude.” Have we ever seen an eliminated contestant look that helpless and broken when the judges told him/her to pack up and go before? Irrational, yes. Erratic, yes. But Richie was a special kind of wounded there, and it freaked me out a bit.

The challenge…meh. It was a chili cook off. It’s definitely Texas, but it hardly seems Top Chef worthy. So let’s just see how it played out.

Night. Chef House. The people who were in the bottom talk about how it was an eye opening experience, and how Keith went home for his flour tortillas. Nyesha says she’s seeing people’s true cut-throat colors come out.

Next morning. They walk into the kitchen and see an array of chilis and the Two Hot Tamales, Mary Sue Miliken and Susan Fenniger. Padma tells them that this challenge is designed to reward those with the confidence to take risks. They each have to choose one chili pepper and create a dish that highlights it. The amount of money they earn varies based on the Scoville Unit heat of the chilis, with the Ghost Chili earning $20,000.

30 minutes to cook. Food Flurry. Beverly goes with the wimpy Anaheim because she thinks she can make a good tasting dish with it even though it’s only worth $200. Richie picks the $3,000 Fresno pepper, which is one hotter than a jalapeno.

Chris has issues with spicy food, so he picks the $7,500 Manzano and hopes not choosing the ghost won’t take him out. Heather is using the $10,000 Thai chili and pickling it. Chuy uses the Habañero because it’s his absolute favorite. It’s also worth $12,500. Two of the ladies are also using Habañeros. I’m not shocked – Habañero has a fair bit of spice, but it’s also a fairly common pepper that most of these guys are going to be comfortable cooking with. Paul is the only one using the Ghost Chili.

Five minutes left. Beverly notices she’s the only one who didn’t cook her chili. Richie’s chili isn’t as spicy as he expected. Time.

The judges begin tasting with Beverly, who has made Anaheim Chili Crudite with Samjang Paste. Sarah’s dish, Salmon Belly Seared with Fresno Chili Relish comes next. Richie presents his Fresno Slaw with Pineapple Curd & Seared Bay Scallops. Chris Jones has made Seared Chicken with Manzano Vinaigrette. Chris C’s dish is Coconut Soup with Thai Chili.

Heather has made Date & Pistachio Cous Cous, Pickled Cucumbers, Red Onions & Thai Chili. Chuy has turned his Habañeros into Sautéed Scallop with Achiote. Grayson has made Habañero Popper with Cream Lime Sauce. And Nyesha has used her habañeros in a Baby Fennel & Rock Shrimp Salad with Orange Habañero Vinaigrette. Finally, Paul has highlighted the Ghost Chili in Chilled Coconut Soup with Kaffir Lime, Ghost Pepper Relish.

The judges’ least favorites were Beverly, who didn’t do enough with her chili; Richie, who lost the power of his chili in the sweetness of his dish, and Chuy, who overpowered his habañeros with canned tomatoes.

On the top we have Heather, whose dish was exactly the kind of food Susan loves to eat; Grayson who totally showcased the chili; and Paul who went after the Ghost chili. And the winner is… Commercial. I hate when they do that.

Back! The winner of the quickfire challenge is… Paul! And he wins $20,000 and immunity for rolling the dice with the ghost chili. Good for Paul!

Moving to the elimination challenge, Padma tells them they’ll be competing in an age-old Texas tradition: the chili cook off. They’re in five teams of three to create a pot of chili…and they’ll have all night to cook back at their house. They’ll serve tomorrow at the Tejas Rodeo.

Sarah tells us her dad was a bull rider. Padma adds that they’ll be serving 200 cowboys and rodeo regulars, who will choose the winner.

They hit Whole Foods with 30 minutes to chop, and everyone charges the meat counter, buying up all the brisket. Whitney gets gamed out of any brisket despite being the first one to the counter, and ends up getting short ribs instead. Chris C. and Sarah get into a tussle at the check-out.

They get back to the house at 3:49 p.m.. Nyesha scalps all the beer from the kitchen. Chris sets up a cooking spot in the outdoor grilling area. Grayson wrangles for space in the fire pit.

There’s a lot of chopping and cooking, and suddenly it’s 7:40 p.m. The grillers are grilling, the choppers are chopping… and Tom walks in. He wanders around to all of the teams and asks his usual questions about what they’re doing. Commercial.

Back. 10:48 p.m. The chefs are getting tired. Edward knocks a wine bottle against the wall to get out the cork. Some people jump into the pool. Chuy dances. Chuy tells stories. Chuy gets pantsed. 1:16 a.m. 3:08 a.m. The black team is finished with their chili. Nyesha thinks they’ve made something special. The white team is determined to stay up. Ty-Lor is sleeping with his eyes open. At 5;12, Sarah jumps in the shower.

Shortly thereafter, the ones who went to bed get back up, and they all put on their coats and head out in their product placement vehicles to go to the rodeo.

On arrival, they all race to their stands and put on cowboy hats. The Westerner in me hates all of their asses right now for being such dudes, wearing their costumey cowboy hats and stupid kercheifs. They start reheating the chili, tasting, slicing cornbread. Etc. Etc. Etc.

The rodeo folk start to enter and taste chili. The black team worries that their mole chili is too complex for the cowboys. Eventually, the judges enter: Tom, Gail, Padma, and the Two Hot Tamales. The judges begin at the Green Team’s table for chili with roasted corn garnish, which Bravo has somehow seen fit not to describe on their website despite the fact that (spoiler alert!) it ends up being the winner. Mary Sue loves the depth of flavor, and Tom thinks it grows on you and gets better and better. Gail finds it a little thin and wishes there was something to soak it up.

The judges hit the Red Team’s table next for their chili, which is also getting the royal snubola from Bravo. Gail thinks it has a subtle smokiness and the right amount of heat. Mary Sue finds the texture a little stringy.

Over at the blue team’s table, the judges are served Smoked Brisket Chili with Summer Pickles with pork rinds on the top. Gail says pickled peaches are now her official favorite thing to eat with chili. Tom says the vegetables and sauce are better than the chili itself.

The black team’s "Chili Mole" with Cornbread is next. Susan says their cornbread is moister and more flavorful. Mary Sue wishes they’d had more of a focus for what they were going after.

Finally, they get the White Team’s Three Bean & Three Beef Chili & Poblamno Corn Bread. Poblamno? Really, Bravo? Really? You’re almost making it seem like the two teams you snubbed are getting off easy because you didn’t butcher the names of their dishes. Anyway. Gail wishes they hadn’t put the pickled vegetables in the chili, but Susan loves it. Tom says he’s glad he’s not choosing the winner, because that will be hard. He thinks the Black team’s was way too sweet, and Gail agrees it didn’t “feel like a chili.” Tom liked the red team’s flavor, but didn’t care for the texture of the shredded beef. Susan says that the White team’s was flat and didn’t have any heat. Blondie on the white team talks about being in the bottom on the last challenge and how there’s no way she’s going back there. Commercial.

Back. It’s rodeo time! The other attendees all clap for the cheftestants as they enter. Some asshole says “I am the giver of life. I am the giver of life.” What the fuck? What? What???? Who said that, and what the bluedilly fuck did it mean?

They watch the rodeo. Beverly cries because she wishes her husband was there to experience it. Nyesha wishes she’d suck it up. “There’s no crying in cooking,” she interviews. The emcee says that it’s time to announce the 2011 Tejas Rodeo chili cookoff winner, and Padma enters on a horse…which Chris C. compares to “seeing Fabio on the cover of one of his romance novels.” That is…weirdly apt. Well done, Chris C. I’m starting to like you, which I wasn’t doing so much since you spent a lot of the episode bitching about Sarah (even though I like Sarah way, way less than I like you).

Padma thanks everyone for coming, and announces that the winner is… the Green Team! Sarah says it makes her proud to be a Texan. Oh, shut the hell up.

Padma then announces that the Black Team had the least favorite, and someone from their team will go home. But… they’ll have the chance to prove they belong if they can transform the losing chili into a winning dish in 30 minutes. Time starts now. They run back to the rodeo grounds’ kitchen to cook.

Food flurry. Richie is coating pork tenderloins in Fritos. Beverly strains the chili into a sauce for tuna. Nyesha does the same thing, but for a frito crusted shrimp salad.

The other chefs sit around at picnic tables and talk about how they don’t envy the black team. Chris says something about how Richie would literally rip his kidney out of his body if you needed it.

Time is up, and Nyesha worries that she didn’t put enough sauce on the plate. Beverly presents her Seared Tuna with Habañero Creamed Corn. Nyesha’s dish is Frito-Encrusted Black Tiger Shrimp with Roasted Corn Salsa. And Richie’s is Frito-Encrusted Pork Tenderloin, Potato Hash & Ricotta Cheese Chili Puree.

The judges talk. Susan says Richie’s dish lacked seasoning, and Tom says it was one note. But Padma points out he did a lot in 30 minutes. Gail thought Nyesha did a good job with her shrimp, but it needed sauce, and Tom says the corn salad was sad. Mary Sue says Beverly made the best use of the chili, and she really changed the flavor profile. Commercial.

Fake back. They talk about what assholes they are to ask such tired chefs to cook again.

Really back. Tom tells Beverly that she fixed all the flaws and came up with a new dish, and she’s safe. Nyesha’s dish was nice, but didn’t go far enough. And Richie had a great idea that never came together.

Padma tells…Richie to pack his knives and go. He manages to thank them, but there are so many tears behind his voice. Poor kid. He basically falls into Chris Jones’ arms and cries about how he didn’t show what Moto can do, and Chris tells him he loves him. Richie says you can’t prep yourself for the emotional strain. He wishes everyone else luck, and hopes Chris will “be the Jedi you are and make it to the finals and win it all.”

Next! Dallas! Road closed! This is your kitchen! John Besh is a handsome man, I’m not going to lie. You can smell the smell of money. Man come on. This is Top Chef.

And on the interwebs, Richie cooks against Keith in the last chance kitchen, where they [spoiler alert!] compete to see who can make the best dish using Thanksgiving leftovers. Keith wins for a dish that features a stuffing and blue cheese fritter that I might have to take a shot at.

Oh hear the bell ring/ Feel syphilis sting/ Hurrah for Thanksgiving Day!

I thought this year -- as I did last year -- about not sharing the story of the Thanksgiving I Didn't Have Syphilis.

I mean, we've all heard it by now, right? Thanksgiving, rash, syphilis, anger, no syphilis.

And then when I did decide I was going to do it, I thought for as long a time about how to introduce it.

And then I realized that this whole process -- the weighing whether or not to share the story, then deciding to share the story, then writing a lengthy introduction about how I almost didn't share the story -- has become as much a part of the story as Henry and the Borg and the sausage stuffing and the incompetent blood tech and the syphilis and everything else.

And that's how holidays happen, maybe. You start off with some Native Americans getting some Protestant jaggoffs out of a scrape they got themselves into, and you end up with green bean casserole and three football games a predictable fight between your Auntie Evelyn and your Nana Rose.

So here it is, children, without further ado: the seventh annual retelling of It's The Great Syphilis, Jordan Baker!

Today we celebrate the day when some of my ancestors saved a bunch of damned New England WASPs from starvation, only to be thanked with the tremendous gifts of smallpox and Christianity.

I would like to tell you about the glory days of my people, when apparently they roamed the earth in wagons drawn by impossibly large turkeys. But since I’m only like 1/64th Native American, and hence not really credible when I try to pull off the bitter and disenfranchised routine, I thought I’d tell you a quite different story of Thanksgivings of yore.

Tomorrow I'll make my usual Thanksgiving trip down to SoMD to see my relatives. Six years ago, though, I made up a thoroughly implausible story involving a bereaved friend I’d promised to spend Thanksgiving with, and bailed on the whole thing. I made two pies (one pumpkin, one bourbon chocolate pecan), and glutted myself on wine and sausage stuffing at Megarita’s dinner.

The next morning, I woke up with red spots on my hands, feet, knees, and chest.

I’m allergic to very few things in life, but when I have a reaction, it tends to be serious and swift. So I knew from previous experience (with a Sulfa medicine in college) that the spots would soon be followed by nausea, dizziness, difficulty breathing, swelling of the throat, weakening of the joints, blurred vision, and collapsing in a heap in the bathroom. And I knew it was time for a visit to the hospital.

But. . .it was the day after Thanksgiving. Roommate was out of town. Peacock was out of town. Everyone I knew in the city was out of town. I called L and the Fauxiance. Both out of town. So I dressed myself quickly and dragged myself downstairs, planning to head for the train.

Fortunately, the Borg was there. "Yordan," he said, "how was jor Thanksgeeveeng?" Then he did a double take. "Ju have espots on ju."

I asked him to drive me to GW Hospital, and he said “jes.” So he dropped me off at the entrance to the emergency room, where I showed them my "espots." They quickly got me into a little curtained cubby, made me put on a paper gown, and there I sat, waiting.

And waiting.

And. . .waiting.

While I was waiting, I eavesdropped on the woman in the curtain next to me, who apparently had a “tree shaped rash.” “You probably have syphilis,” the doctor told her.

“I don’t have syphilis,” the woman replied.

“Everyone thinks they don’t have syphilis,” the doctor replied, condescendingly.

“No,” the woman said. “I know I don’t have syphilis. I just had a baby; they gave me a syphilis test when I found out I was pregnant. I don’t have syphilis.”

“Oh,” the doctor said, sounding disappointed.

Finally, a med student came in to see me, so in addition to being covered with spots, I now have the indignity of having a doctor younger than me for the first time in my life. His name was Henry, and he had “never seen anything like” my rash before. I tried to explain to him that I, in fact, had—on my own skin, anytime I had an allergic reaction to something.

Henry decided that an MA in English didn’t make me qualified to diagnose my own rash, and went to get his textbook so he could compare my rash to pictures of other rashes.

I waited. It’s probably meningitis, I thought to myself. Every time I’ve been sick in my life, since I was about three years old, people have thought it was meningitis. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard the words “It’s either (insert totally benign condition here), or it’s meningitis” (The number of totally benign conditions which are apparently just like the initial stages of meningitis would blow your minds).

It’s never been meningitis yet (touch wood), which means that a) someday, it will be, and b) I now laugh every time a doctor says it might be meningitis—in both a bitter “maybe my number’s up” and a snide “the second time (and all subsequent times since I was three) it’s farce” kind of way.

Henry came back with the Attending, who had been the source of the dire warnings on the other side of the curtain earlier. “What do we have to think when we see a rash on the hands, feet, and knees?” she asked Henry.“Meningitis?” Henry said hopefully. I started laughing--life is so damned predictable sometimes.

The Attending looked at me disapprovingly—galled that anyone could find anything funny about meningitis. “No,” she said. “Syphilis.”

I stopped laughing. “I don’t have syphilis,” I told her.

“Everyone thinks they don’t have syphilis,” she replied condescendingly.

“No,” I told her, “I know everyone thinks they don’t have syphilis. I can’t have syphilis. I’m extremely sexually cautious. I get a full battery of STD tests every September when I go in for my annual, and I’ve only had one sexual partner in the last year. If I have syphilis,” I ended, tears beginning to well up “I am going to need to buy a gun and take the train out to Clarendon post-haste.”

“Test her for syphilis. And meningitis,” the Attending told Henry.

Henry waited until she walked off. “I know I shouldn’t be saying this,” he said, “but you don’t strike me as the sort of person who gets syphilis*.”

I sniffed. “You have good instincts, Henry. You’ll make an excellent doctor someday.”

So I waited some more, until the blood-tech came in to see me. He took my right arm, and found a vein almost right away, which is rare—it’s usually hard for people to find a vein in my right arm. “You’re very good at that,” I told him.

“Thanks,” he said, “it’s my first time.”

I shut my eyes. “You really shouldn’t have told me that,” I replied.

Moments later, he said “oops!” and explained that he’d blown my vein. So he walked off with about a gallon of my blood, and Henry came back and put my feet up, gave me juice, and explained that I had to stay awhile to make sure I wouldn’t pass out on my way home, and that I should call Monday for my blood results.

So I waited.

And waited.

I took Benadryl Friday night, and Saturday morning, the spots were gone. Monday I called the hospital, and they informed me that due to a backlog from the holiday, my bloodwork hadn’t been completed yet and I should call again Tuesday.

Tuesday I called again, and was transferred five or six times before a somewhat sheepish lab administrator explained to me that they’d lost my blood.

I gave him a few choice words about what I thought about a major teaching hospital that could misplace a gallon of blood that some untrained boy candy striper had blown a vein trying to draw.

He waited patiently and told me that I should contact my normal doctor so I could be tested for meningitis and syphilis.

"The rash is gone,” I told him. “It went away the next day. Plus, I looked up syphilis online, and it said that the rash for that would be copper colored. Mine was pink. And I was tested for meningitis when I had a cold earlier in the month. And the spots went away after I took Benadryl, so I think it was just an allergic reaction.”

He then told me in a few choice words what he thought about English teachers who tried to diagnose themselves by using the internets, and reiterated his belief that I should get tested.

So I went into Turtle U’s health center—where they cheerily informed me that they would do the tests for free since as a state employee, I could be a public health risk if I had either of these diseases. Woo-hoo! Talk about your unexpected benefits! My salary bites, but I can get free syph tests whenever I want to! Sign me up, baby! I need to start milking this!

And they drew another gallon of blood, and told me to come back in a week. Long story short (too late!) I didn’t have syphilis or meningitis. The doctors informed me that it had probably been an allergic reaction to something I ate at Thanksgiving.Of course. Why didn’t I think of that? Oh wait. I did. The girl with the pink "espots" and the MA in English figured out what she had days before the staff of George Washington University Hospital or the State of Maryland’s Bureau of Public Health.

Ass bastards.

So today, as you bow your heads and thank whatever higher power you struggle with your tenuous belief in for the bounty s/he has laid before you, take a moment to thank him/her for your health, and to ask him/her not to smite you with spots in the next few days.

Because let me tell you, the day after Thanksgiving, the emergency room staff of most major hospitals are just looking to tell you that you have something more exciting than allergic reaction. Which is exactly what it’ll end up being anyway.

Happy Thanksgiving, everybody. Don’t get syphilis.

Powerless

Last night at 8:47, our power went out.

And then it stayed out until 10:39.

And then it went out again at some point -- I'm not sure when. It was back on when I woke up around 2, but it had un-set the clocks again (since I'd carefully reset them at 10:39).

But the long and the short of it is: I had no TV, so I could not watch Top Chef, so there is no recap as yet.

Instead, please enjoy this picture of my cat trying to figure out what the hell a candle is.

Recap sometime this weekend, probably Saturday.

Top Chef: All My Ex-Chefs Live in Texas, part two

Poppets, can I just tell you? I almost didn’t watch last night. I have been beyond exhausted this week – the stupid time change has done my head in this year in a way it never has in the ten years since I left the Gr8 St8 of Arizona (that’s how they teach you to spell Great and State in Arizona, which so seldom does anything right that their occasional rejection of horrible things like Daylight Savings Time and Russell Pearce look all the more remarkable). Also, I’m dealing with either the last, lingering remnants or the terrible resurgence of a cold I’ve had for WEEKS now that I just can’t shake. Also, Law & Order: UK was really good last night and I kind of just wanted to follow that up by either going to bed on a high note or watching Whitechapel live for the first time and prolonging the tension high I was on.

But I struggled through. For you, you know, and because I figure it will probably be somewhat easier to learn the names of the final 16 chefs if I’ve had an introduction to them.

Here’s what I’m feeling, kittens: this season of the show is overburdened with too many twists. First you’ve got the “cook in” round. Then you’ve got the fact that they’re travelling ALL OVER TEXAS instead of having one home base city. There are now five “permanent” judges instead of the usual four – will they even have guest judges? And now there’s this “Last Chance Kitchen” nonsense, where the eliminated chefs will have a chance to cook their way back into the kitchen.

The next thing you know, they’ll be hiding immunity idols in the pantry and forcing them to play on “tribes” sorted out by their race or gender. Team Rainbow will no longer be a cute little self imposed nickname; it will be the designation under which all of the gay and lesbian chefs are forced to compete together against the straight chefs.

What I’m saying is that with all these new, unnecessary twists all at once, they’re in danger of destroying the show’s beautiful simplicity. The sharks are lining up and Fonzie is revving his motorcycle. I’m a bit worried.

But let’s just do this.

After a refresher on everything that happened during last week’s episode, we pick up where we left off: back at the Alamo with two of the initial heats down and the third yet to go. The chefs on the bubble ponder what their ultimate face off will consist of, and we learn a bit about some of them… but why bother? At best, a fraction of them are moving forward. Edward Lee jokes that there’ll be no spots left for any of them. I think that’s closer to the truth than he realizes, since 11 of the 16 spots have already been filled.

The third and final group enters the kitchen for their heat. They’re faced with Padma in a new muumuu – so is it a new day, or did they just have Padma change muumuus halfway through Day One to signify that it would be a new episode? Or did she spill something on the previous muumuu while she was tasting the food from the first rounds? – and Tom and Hugh. Hugh! Chef Chaz tells us he had Padma’s picture in his locker in middle school. I bet that makes Padma feel good…and/or old.

We hear about the chefs in this heat, but again… let’s not bother. One is a girl with cool glasses, one is an old dude, two are from Texas, one seems to be named Kim Colicchio (except it’s spelled Calicchio, and –spoiler alert – she doesn’t make it through, thus robbing me of a season’s worth of opportunities for nepotism jokes), and Chaz jokes that he was nominated by his “mom as one of her two favorite sons.” I like Chaz.

Padma shows them a table with ten items, and says they’ll each cook with one of the ingredients…but don’t touch the cloche, because there’s a surprise under it. The chefs go up and choose their ingredients. Glasses girl and big Texas guy rock-paper-scissors for the mushrooms.

Then the chefs lift their cloches, all of which have timers set with different times. They each have to create a dish with the time shown on their timers. Chaz has 40 minutes to make risotto. Glasses girl has an hour for Oxtail. Big guy only has 20 minutes for mushrooms.

Their time…or times…starts now. Tom and Hugh wander around the kitchen asking people about what they’re making. Mushroom dude is sweating the time. Glasses girl is pressure cooking her oxtail, and can’t tell if her pressure cooker has locked. She’s making a dish inspired by her husband’s Philipino grandmother. The old guy is also French, from the Loire Valley. He’s my new favorite. You go, Old French Guy!

More cooking and talking. Ten minutes until the first group serves. The blonde girl runs away from Tom because she doesn’t have time to talk to him. One minute. Mushroom guy is in trouble. Commercial.

Back. Kim presents her Lamb Chop with Kalamata Olives and Arugula to the judges first, followed by Andrew’s Roasted Mushrooms with Brown Butter Vinaigrette, Crispy Spinach, and Poached Egg, and Paul’s Trout with Southeast Asian Tomato Salad. The trout is Tom’s favorite of the group, and he wants him to continue. Hugh agrees. Paul is moving on. Padma thought Kim’s lamb was greasy, and Tom says it was overcooked. She has to pack her knives and go. Tom says that he thinks Andrew should be on the bubble, and Padma agrees. So that’s twelve in and five on the bubble.

The “40 minute group” continues preparing their food. Laurent tells us that in France, you either become “a cook…a priest…or an army guy,” and that it’s usually “the worst in the family” who becomes a cook. I LOVE HIM. KEEP HIM, PLEASE. Chaz continues freaking out about his risotto. Ultimately, he does not get it on the plate, and has to pack his knives and go.

The rest of the 40 minute group presents their food, beginning with Berenice’s Asian Style Short Rib with Cabbage Slaw. Laurent presents his Duck, which for some reason Bravo has not seen fit to describe and since it’s the only thing they’ve left out, I don’t feel like powering up the TV and DVR again just to find out what it was, and then we have Jonathan’s Brussels Sprouts with Tomato Sofrito and Hazelnut Gremolata. Fact: I had Brussels Sprouts last night for dinner. They were maple and balsamic roasted, using this recipe. They looked a damn sight better than Jonathan’s, and only took 35 minutes to cook [once I got past the cleaning and slicing, which always takes for freaking ever]).

Anyway, Tom says Jonathan’s Brussels sprouts weren’t cooked, and Hugh agrees: he has to go home. Hugh wants to put Laurent on the bubble because his plate didn’t make sense. Tom says flat out no. So it’s left to Padma, who puts him on the bubble. Thank you, Padma. Thank you for keeping the old bald Frenchman. Hugh says Berenice’s short ribs were one dimensional and uninspired. Tom agrees that she should go home.

See, THAT’S more like it. A round where NO ONE gets in outright. That’s the sort of hard, decisive action the show needs to take more often.

The sixty minute group is finishing up. Lindsey is stressing out over her osso bucco. Ashley can’t get the pressure cooker lid off her oxtail. Commercial.

Back. The 60 minute group has 8 minutes left. Ashley still can’t get her pressure cooker open, so Lindsey tells her to run it under cold water. It’s not tender enough, and Beverly’s octopus is tough. The ladies approach the judges.

Ashley opens with her Braised Oxtail "Kare Kare". Lindsey explains her Braised Veal, Creamy Polenta, and Warm Salad, and Beverly tells them about her Korean Style Octopus "Nakji Bokum". Tom tells Lindsey he loves her dish, and would be happy to give her a coat. Hugh agrees. Lindsey is in. Three spots left…

Tom wishes Ashley’s oxtail were cooked more. He doesn’t see it, but Padma puts her on the bubble. Hugh can’t put her through, though, so she has to pack her knives and go. Tom says Beverly’s dish was “crazy risky,” but he liked it. Hugh agrees that she earned a Top Chef jacket.

The chefs who passed the third heat turn up at the Top Chef house and walk in on a party in progress with the other chefs.

The chefs on the bubble are still sitting in the stew room. Edward laughs mockingly at the girl who cooks on the cruise ship. They all try to figure out how many spots are left. Edward says he’d kill the other five of them to get that jacket, but fortunately, Padma comes to get them before it reaches to that point.

They enter the kitchen for the final cook-off, where they see Padma, Hugh, Tom, and Emeril. There are 6 of them and 2 spots left. They can use any ingredients in the kitchen, and have 45 minutes to make one dish to show them why they should be there. Cruise ship girl frets because the focus is so broad.

Food flurry. They all talk about why they’re there. One of them has been recently dumped over the phone after nine years and a lovely commitment ceremony. Edward goes with duck because everyone else is doing seafood. Commercial.

Fake back. The chefs sort out their beds Goldilocks style. “this bed’s too hard! This bed’s too soft!” Keith says it’s crazy to shove his 6’4” 300 lbs self into a bunk bed.

Really back. The food flurry continues for the on the bubble chefs. Edward is feeling good…until he basically slashes his finger off. He throws a glove on and keeps moving…and gushing blood out his glove. The medic tries to treat him while he’s cooking. Edward vows to cook with his feet if he has to.

Twenty minutes. Dumped-after-commitment-ceremony feels good about her dish. Cruise ship Molly is stressed, but focused. Girl who got screwed by Tyler Stone’s butchering is glad to have everything under her own control. Time.

Edward presents his Duck with BBQ Sauce and Sweet Asian Custard to the judges first. Then we hear about Molly’s Jumbo Stuffed Prawn, Mousseline of Shrimp with Soy Glazed Watermelon and Rice; Janine’s Seared Scallop with Baby Clams, Bacon, Corn, and Watermelon Garnish; Grayson’s Polenta with Bacon Wrapped Shrimp and Port Wine Fig Sauce (ok, not an original basis but the preparation sounds just yum); Laurent’s Scallop Two Ways: Tartar and Seared on a Bed of Fennel with Saffron; and Andrew’s Mussels with Sherry, Fregula, Charred Corn Panna Cotta, and Shrimp.

Padma asks Janine how she feels she did. Janine thinks she simplified as the judges advised. Hugh doesn’t think the watermelon is well integrated. Emeril thinks it’s simple but well executed.

Molly hopes her dish will earn her a coat, but Tom says the shrimp is overcooked. Hugh says it came ‘thisclose” to being a magnificent dish.

Edward thinks he’s made a pretty good dish. Emeril loves his flavors and says the presentation’s fantastic, but Hugh thinks the duck went a bit over.

Tom tries to figure out the intention in Grayson’s dish, and after freaking her out sufficiently tells her it’s a nice dish. Emeril liked it.

He also likes the paparika in Andrew’s mussels, but is confused by the panna cotta.

Tom says Laurent’s tartare isn’t appetizing. Emeril says the hot scallop is cooked perfectly, but he agrees about the tartare.

Padma sends the chefs away so the judges can deliberate. And the judges say the same things they just said at greater length, and my GOD, I’m exhausted. I hate the stupid time change. I can’t pay attention. The chefs in the stew room wonder who’ll be in, and think Janine is a shoe in. The judges call them back to judges’ table.

Tom tells Molly that she completely hammered the shrimp, and must pack her knives and go. Tom says Laurent’s flavors didn’t work together. He must leave. NOOOOOo! Alright. See, I guess that’s the nice part about this initial round – you don’t get to know anyone, so you don’t get too attached, so you get over the losses pretty easily.

Ed made a gutsy call with the dish he chose, but the dish was overcooked. But he’s in! Because he cut a finger off, and nothing makes an Asian-Southern duck dish like a heaping side order of blood and tendons. That means there’s one slot left and three chefs remaining. Only one of them will move on to the real competition.

Tom tells Janine she put together a nice dish, but it wasn’t tied together. Grayson’s flavors were good, though it wasn’t the most imaginative dish. Andrew messed a good plate of food up by not just stopping with the mussels. Padma tells him to pack his knives and go.

So it’s Janine or Grayson. And we cut to commercial.

Back. Padma tells Grayson … that she’ll be moving on! So Janine must pack her knives and go. Grayson and Edward head to the Top Chef house and greet their fellow cheftestants, conscious of the fact that they made it by the skin of their teeth. Grayson doesn’t want anyone to think of them as the underdogs “we just got more experience, ok?” I like her.

This season: battling it out across the great state of Texas. Pee Wee Herman! I’d better see some motherfuckin' snakes on some motherfuckin' plates. As the temperature rises, tempers flare in Dallas. Charlize Theron. And people freak the fuck out in Austin. “You were drivin’ the bus, hittin' people.” And the biggest twist of all – the dumbass online last chance kitchen, hosted by Tom.

Ok, stop reading here if you don't want to hear about "Last Chance Kitchen," which I didn't so much watch as I listened to it in the background while I put together the recap (be advised, also, that people may be discussing it in the comments):

So on the plus side, it's not as much of a time suck as I feared. The episode was only 7 minutes long, and featured Janine and Andrew competing to make the best pizza within 30 minutes. Andrew won for making some sort of cheeseless pizza with salsa verde.

On the minus side... I still think it's a dumb, dumb idea. Because Andrew won, he gets to compete in the next Last Chance Kitchen against the eliminated chef from next week's episode. And then whoever wins that challenge cooks against the chef eliminated from the third week's challenge, and so on and so forth, right up to the very end.

And by the very end... They mean the FINALE. How would you feel if you'd cooked your way through every quickfire and every elimination from day one onward, and then you found yourself competing in the finale against someone who was eliminated in the first round?

And doesn't it also give the chef who was eliminated earlier of the two kind of an unfair advantage? the chefs leave the competition EXHAUSTED, physically and emotionally. And then right away, they find themselves having to face someone who -- while s/he is still playing for his/her life, technically -- is going to be relatively speaking fresh as a daisy, because they won't have all the stresses of multiple competitions every couple days, and all the tension in the house, and being judged day in and day out, and (this season) the travel?

Anyway. It kind of sticks in my craw. Also, it gives me something else I have to put aside a chunk of time for -- however tiny -- every week to really know what's going on.

Top Chef: All My Ex-Chefs Live In Texas

Ladies and dudes, there were six million chefs in last night’s episode, and about a quarter million of those got sent home. We’re not writing a haiku for each of those bastards, and there’s no way we can sum them all up with one.

Indeed, Bravo hasn’t even included biographies of them on the website (Bravo hasn’t put up any bios yet, so it’s a safe assumption that they’re holding them back so they won’t spoil who’s in the top 16 and who’s not), so one could question whether they were ever really on the show at all. If Bravo doesn’t acknowledge them, did they ever really exist?

How’s that for 6 a.m. philosophy for you, kids? Not bad, huh?

So this new format. I like it in theory – I like the idea that the chefs are having to cook their way into the house to qualify for the series. At the same time, though it makes these first two weeks seem a little cheap – it’s kind of like the audition weeks of American Idol (I assume; I do not watch American Idol), but without as many insults or schadenfreude.

And really, I’d like the format a lot more if every third tweet across my feed last night wasn’t Tom or Padma or Gail or Andy Cohen or @BravoTopChef going “I love the new format. Isn’t the new format great. I love the new format where they have to cook their way in. It’s great that they have to cook their way in. So much more drama and tension with the great new format where they have to cook their way in.”

It’s one thing to tweet on message, guys; it’s another altogether to regurgitate corporate talking points in convenient, 140 character splashes.

Then there’s the other big change – this whole Tom AND Padma AND Gail AND Emeril AND Hugh business. Again, I like it in theory – at least I like the Hugh part in theory. I like Hugh. Emeril is kind of like a boiled ham come to life and festooned with catch phrases, but what can you do?

What I’m unclear on is how this is going to work. Are the two of them both going to alternate with Gail, meaning we get 1/3 of the episodes with each of them, rather than half Gail and half Ted/Toby, or 2/3 Gail 1/3 Ripert/Bourdain? Or is one of them there to alternate with Gail and the other to sub in for Tom occasionally? Or are we just going to have five judges all the time? It’s too many.

But let’s not judge things that haven’t happened yet – there’s so much to judge in this episode alone…

Morning! Texas. We see a lot of Texan things, like a car with horns (like bison horns on the hood, not a horn in the steering column) and the Alamo. Three million chefs walk up to Padma, and one dude with tall hair vows to stay in so he can keep looking at her. First obligatory “Padma is so hot” gag of the season….done! And we’re not even thirty seconds in.

Padma welcomes the chefs to the Alamo. We see one chef’s doofy casting video – Tyler Stone (note: I am linking to his website for mocking purposes, because it is the website of a tool, not as any sort of endorsement)– and learn that other are business partners. We see some others too, but seriously, there are like 90 of them. We’re not going to bother meeting them all when a bunch of them will be out the door by the end of the night.

Padma tells them they’ll be in three groups competing in three different challenges, and they’ll have to excel at their tests to qualify for one of 16 spots in the Top Chef House. There’s a bunch of meeping and moping about still having to qualify, and how they can’t believe they’re not already in the top 16.

A bunch of chefs wander into the Top Chef kitchen, where they’re met with a whole pig and Tom and Emeril. Tom introduces Emeril as a new judge for this season and then asks the chefs to introduce themselves. They do, but fuck it, there are too many of them, including Tyler Stone and the chef and sous chef at Moto in Chicago. Tom tells them that only 16 chefs will earn their schmancy new Top Chef coats, which are a sexy black or navy blue with gold or ecru piping.

For their qualifying dish, they’ll create a dish using the pig before them – there are 10 cuts of meat and 10 of them. They have to sort out who gets which bit of the pig themselves. They have an hour to cook, and will serve in three groups.

Time starts and the chefs call out dibs on different parts of the pig. The girl who gets tenderloin is psyched because she thinks its smooth sailing. The sous chef ends up with ears. Tyler Stone talks about how since he’s a personal chef for celebrities, he usually has his own butcher but he can do anything – he wrote a cookbook in 3.5 weeks! I already hate him. One dude with a beard owns a vegan restaurant and says this challenge is his worst nightmare.

Tom and Emeril wander around asking the chefs about what they’re doing. Tyler continues sawing at the meat. An older guy with bad ass tats is pissed that Tyler got the pork chops, and full of rage at watching him. He has also fucked up tenderloin girl’s tenderloin. Tom and Emeril are pissed, and there’s only half an hour left. Tom tells him to leave. “Pack up your knives and you can go.” Tyler says he knows he’s goin’ …right to the top! He should be punched in the face. I’m very disappointed that no one punches him in the face on his way out the door. Where’s your big, bad, Texas attitude, Top Chef? Punch that kid in the face! Commercial.

Back. Everyone is stressed out. Tom visits Grayson, who is trying to work with the miniature tenderloin that Tyler hacked the crap out of. Tom points out that she’s learned not to trust anyone in the kitchen. She’s stuffing her tenderloin with mushroom. Sarah, who works under Masters contestant Tony Mantuano is making ravioli stuffed with cotecchino. Nom. Simon, the guy with bad ass tats, mumbles some things – I believe he intimates that he learned cooking from you tube. Chris from Moto is making a play on a caramel apple. His sous chef, Rich, trusts Chris to check his food since he knows his own palate is salty.

One minute. Colin the vegan makes a huge mess of plating his soup. The first three chefs serve Tom, Emeril, and Padma. Emeril tells Colin that his soup is a disaster, and he has to head home. So that’s two down. He leaves more gracefully than smirky Tyler.

Padma explains that majority rules for all decisions – if two judges think they’re in, they’re in. If two think they should be eliminated, they go home. If they’re undecided, the chefs go “on the bubble” and compete again.

Chris explains his Caramel Apple Stuffed with Braised Pork Belly and Sweet Applesauce and then Sarah presents her Pig Skin Ravioli. Tom thinks Chris has put together a nice dish. Emeril says the combination of flavors is excellent. He gets a jacket, and is in the top 16. They hand him his coat and send him out. Tom says Sarah had one of the more difficult ingredients, and she made it great. Emeril agrees that she pulled it off. Sarah is in too, and gets her coat.

The next group of chefs finishes up their dishes, and after hearing tenderloin girl stress about her mini tenderloins again, we cut to commercial. This is going to take forever.

Back. The second group of chefs serve. We have Molly with her Smoked Sweet Potato Soup with Pork Cheek and Tequila Cilantro Lime Cream and Grayson with her Haricot Vert with Toasted Hazelnuts and Mushroom Stuffed Tenderloin. Tom is on the fence about Molly – he likes the soup, but wants to see more from the cheeks. Emeril agrees. Tom thinks the flavors in Graysons dish are a bit off. Emeril agrees – she’s on the bubble as well.

The third and final group finishes up and then presents their dishes. We have Nyesha’s Tex-Mex Ravioli, Richie’s Onion Soup with Braised and Crispy Pig Ears, Pickled Shallots, and Frozen Parsley Powder, Simon’s Ham Roulade Stuffed with Fig Confit and Goat Cheese, and Heather’s Maple and Citrus Glazed Baby Back Ribs with Bacon, Corn, and Blue Cheese Grits. Damn, this all sounds good. Emeril think’s Nyesha’s dish is spot on, and Padma agrees that it’s beautiful and tasty. She gets a coat. Tom thinks Heather’s grits are great and satisfying. Emeril totally agrees. She gets a coat.

Emeril found Simon’s roulade overcooked, and doesn’t see him in the top 16. Tom agrees, and Padma tells him to pack his knives and go. Tom says that Richie’s dish is on the verge of being salty, but well seasoned and well thought out. Emeril thinks it has tremendous depth and taste. He gets a jacket.

So so far we have five in, and they head to the Top Chef house. And we have three out, and two on the bubble. Sarah feels like it’s a Chicago competition so far.

Group two enters the kitchen and sees Gail, Padma, and Tom. One chick compares it to a wax museum. This batch of chefs also introduce themselves at great length. Padma shows them a table including their favorite ingredients. The chefs have to chose ONE ingredient, and then each make their own take on a dish using that ingredient. They have an hour to choose, prep, and cook.

They decide to work with rabbit. Should we talk about how I don’t eat rabbit? I do not eat rabbit. I have too much of an affinity for rabbits, and cannot eat them. It would be like eating my spirit animal. One of the chefs, Chuy, says his sister used to name the rabbits their mom kept, and once in awhile one of them would disappear and they’d have it for dinner that night and tell her it was chicken. I will survive this challenge by pretending they’re all making chicken.

Tom wanders around talking to the chefs. Tall hair compares himself to Blais and Michael Voltaggio. The large bald dude is named Ty-lör Boring. Now I dislike him. Edward Lee, who has some kind of mouth tic, has a problem with the vacuum machine. Commercial.

Back. Group 2 continues working on their rabbits. Edward abandons the vacuum machine. 20 minutes left. Keith Rhodes tells us about how he got caught selling drugs, went to prison, and began to focus in on cooking when he was there. Time. Nina has left her rabbit off the plate. She’s immediately sent packing. So that’s three out.

We see Whitney’s Rabbit Sugo with Tomatoes, Shallots, Asparagus, and Bacon, Keith’s Seared Tenderloin, Chicken Fried Rabbit, Yukon Potato Hash, Braised Rabbit Confit and Edward’s Butter Poached Rabbit with Butternut Squash Puree. Tom thinks Whitney’s rabbit is nicely cooked, and Gail agrees. She’s in the top 16. Tom praises Keith’s cold rabbit preparation with salsa, as does Gail. He’s in – he pretty much had to be, or they would’ve wasted the money on that XXL chef’s coat. Tom wants to see Edward cook again, and Gail agrees. He’s on the bubble.

The next batch of chefs has five minutes remaining. Ty-lör decides to soak his rabbit in fish sauce. Janine runs out of time to get her sauce.

Janine presents her Rabbit Nugget, Rabbit Rack, and Rabbit Loin Saltimbocca with Mushroom Hash. Chuy has made Rabbit Loin with Cashew Pipian and Grilled Zucchini. Chris Tall Hair has made a Duo of Rabbit: Confit Leg and Butter Seared Tenderloin with Carrot Polenta, and Ty-Lör has made Confit Rabbit Legs with Pickled Cucumber and Tomatoes in Fish Sauce. Dakota finishes with her Roast Rabbit Crepinettes with Bulgar Wheat and Vanilla Jus.

Tom thinks Dakota deserves a jacket, as do the ladies. She’s elated. Tom enjoyed Ty-lör’s dish, as does Gail. He’s in, which means I’ll have the coding for umlauts memorized by the end of this season. Ty-lör puzzles, me, both because he’s a grown man using a ridiculous, juvenile spelling of his name the way we all did in high school (yeah, I spent some time going by Jor-d’n. You wanna make something of it?) and also because he… kind of looks like a former student of mine. Padma thinks Chris showed technique and Gail says his rabbit was the best of the day (it's featured at left for being best of the day). He gets a coat.

Tom would’ve liked to see Janine’s sauce, but Gail thinks she had good flavors. Padma can’t give her a coat. She’s on the bubble. So that’s four on the bubble, ten in, and four out. Commercial. They can’t possibly fit a whole third group and the cook off for the cheftestants on the bubble in in the next 8 minutes, can they? Dear lord.

Back. Fake back. All the on the bubble chefs sit in the stew room and try to figure out why they’re in. Janine says it’s because none of them have visible tattoos. She writes “Dad” on her arm in purple ink.

Back. Chuy stands alone in front of the judges. Tom likes the flavor in his sauce. Padma thinks he’s earned the 11^th spot.

So that leaves only five more spots for the contestants in the third group and the ones on the bubble. Wow. That would seem fairly even – sixteen spots, three groups, hand out the spots at a rate of 5 or 6 per group – if it weren’t for the whole on the bubble situation. They either have to cut way back on the number of slots they hand out during this round, or tell the “on the bubble” chefs “ha-ha, just kidding. No cook off for you.”

The second group of chefs hit the house. Ty-lör used to be Heather’s executive sous chef. Sarah tries to savor the fn moments.

Next time! The third group of cook-ins. Someone’s finger gets cut. I’m going to put you on the bubble. I’m ready to kill the other people to get in that jacket. This is a great dish on its own. You should’ve stopped.