Procrastiblog

Sadly, I can’t claim that Melissa and Eugene’s exits are due to clear cut rule violations. They fell afoul of Implicit Rule #0 (“Do not make bad food”). Arguably, Carla saved herself by observing Rule #8 (“Be prepared to defend your dish at Judges’ Table”): she demonstrated that she understood the weakness of her dish and clearly articulated what she could have done differently to improve it. In contrast, Melissa feebly protested that she really is too a creative chef in spite of her bland, boring fish tacos and Eugene stolidly claimed that he is just too out there and forward-thinking and the judges just don’t get him. Right.

In defense of Melissa and Eugene’s concepts (if not of their finished dishes), I get really tired of hearing lazy, complacent axioms from the judges and cheftestants. In this episode, we learned that radishes have to be cold and can’t be paired with tomatoes and basil and that fish tacos could never “wow” the judges (Tom Colicchio has a long list of dishes that could never “wow” him: fish tacos, deviled eggs, chocolate cake, salad (*cough*Rule #1*cough*), cucumber canapes… He seems to live in a permanent state of disillusionment. (On the flip side, his enthusiasm when he likes a dish can be truly infectious, e.g., Stefan’s duck and dumplings)). These kinds of “rules” really are made to be broken—for instance, I’m quite confident that a sufficiently delicious fish taco could in fact “wow” the judges. The trouble is when you go against the conventional wisdom and fail, everybody just clucks and says you never should have tried in the first place.

Jamie: You’ve been warned. When you don’t win, you whine. When you win, you just squeal “finally! finally! finally!” like anybody else gives a shit that you haven’t been winning (hint: your fellow cheftestants wish they were winning too). You are on track to place in this thing. But if you don’t renounce your humorless lesbianism, I will be rooting against you.

My take on Toby Young is: shut the fuck up already. He was 0 for 4 in the over-the-top metaphor competition (“please pack your gibes and go”):

1. Radhika’s soup :: weapons of mass destruction. This didn’t even make sense. It sounded like the soup was just bland. It would have been more appropriate for Melissa’s habeñero sauce incident (or is that too on the nose?).
2. Hosea’s bacon-wrapped halibut :: American actors upstaged by British supporting players. This took too many words to get out and didn’t land home with the audience. I’m sure Mr. Young and Anthony Lane could have had a long hard chuckle about that one over tea and biscuits, but to American ears it was strained, pretentious, and, well, twitty.
3. Eugene’s dish :: “The bland leading the bland”. This one was pretty good. But I suspect you could find it somewhere in the Toby Young food writing archives… it smells a little musty.
4. Jeff’s avocado sorbet :: Tom Cruise’s cameo in Tropic Thunder. This is the kind of comparison you get from somebody who thinks they’re terrifically hip and cutting edge for having seen Tropic Thunder and knowing that was Tom Cruise, but who doesn’t get how completely un-hip it is to crush on Tom Cruise playing an amoral Hollywood jerkwad. You are trying too hard, dude.

My bet for next to go? It’s time for Arriane’s meltdown, don’t you think?

P.S. After five seasons of Top Chef, after innumerable plates of pork, beef, veal, bacon, duck, foie gras, and so on, ad nauseum, isn’t it strange for Tom Colicchio to play the ethics card on an over-cooked red snapper (“It hurts me that the fish gives up its life and then it gets completely over-cooked and beat up like that…”)?

I’m not one to jump to the conclusion that producer interference has led to one cheftestant going home over another, but… is it a coincidence that the judges decided not to send anybody home this week, when Jamie—a strong contender and a one-woman Victorian melodrama—had a full-on judgment breakdown and served mediocre scallops raw and under-seasoned in a lukewarm vichyssoise? Her only hope was that Eugene stuck his neck up on the block by stubbornly defending his sickly-sweet poisson cru in the face of the judges’ criticism (Rule #8, people! It’s like you don’t even read the blog!). Here’s a tip for you, Eugene: if Tom Colicchio says your dish is too sweet, do not counter with “to me … it was tart.” Tom Colicchio has good reason to think somewhat highly of his own palate.

So what’s the deal with nobody going home? Was it always planned, as part of the holiday theme? Was it actually a response to the refrigerator snafu, in spite of the fact that neither of the affected cheftestants under-performed because of it? I’m getting progressively more weirded out by the pretenses and lacunae in the presentation of the show: Thanksgiving and Christmas in July, complete with disingenuous references to seasonal ingredients; Gail’s Potemkin bridal shower; the presentation of decisions most likely handed down by the legal department as evidence of the judges’ beneficence. Or how about a “one-pot wonder” Quickfire Challenge in which at least half the cheftestants (including the winner) didn’t make anything anyone would consider making in one pot, ever. For example, Fabio’s polenta and duck breast. Have you ever made polenta? Have you cleaned a polenta-caked pot? Would you seriously make polenta, clean the pot, then sear a duck breast in it instead of just using a separate sauté pan for the duck? Preposterous. I understand they want to present an show that is interesting and exciting without getting bogged down in unnecessary details… can’t they do that without insulting my intelligence?

Private to Padma: scallops are something I associate with winter, especially considering the New York State Atlantic bay scallop season runs from November to March (i.e., winter, more or less).

Private to Arriane: six kinds of deviled eggs? Six? As an hors d’oeuvre?

Let’s say this right off the bat: I like Stefan. Every season of Top Chef has at least one polarizing cheftestant. If that cheftestant is a joyless lesbian (Tiffani, Lisa, um, Jamie?), I will hate her. If that cheftestant is a whip-smart, cocky, and socially awkward man (Marcel, Hung, and Stefan), I will shower him with unconditional love.

There is no reason for this that I can think of.

Sure, he was dead wrong about the sorbet and got under Jeff’s skin about it, but he was damn sure right about Eugene’s “deconstructed” plate of random crap nobody would want to eat (and the teddy bear pants! Oh, Jamie, give him that kiss!) and Eugene refused to listen because Stefan is an “asshole” and Danny “Dumbbell” Douche-beard clouded his mind with the power of delusional thinking. This calls for a new rule:

Rule #10: If you let somebody get under your skin for purely personal reasons, you will lose. “I would rather be on Satan’s team than be on Stefan’s team.” Seriously, Radhika?  Because Stefan is going to be in this competition longer than you, I guarantee it. Just ask: Betty (Season 2), anybody who ever worked with Lisa (Season 4), but, curiously, not Ilan (Season 2).

Now, on to Danny: out on Rule #8 (“Be prepared to defend your dish at Judges’ Table”). This does not mean: be prepared to recklessly assert your unsuccessful dish was good. There is no doubt in my mind: if Danny had simply admitted that the dish had failed and been clear-headed about why, it would have been Eugene who went home (since it was his disastrous concept). The question is: is Danny really so insane as to believe that was good food, or did he make a massive strategic error by trying to bluff the judges? (Rule #8, Danny! They never fall for it!)

Note to Jamie: Historically, even top contenders only win 1 or 2 elimination challenges (and 1 or 2 Quickfires) in the whole season, often only in the back half. Don’t act so chagrined when you don’t get called out. (Also, as H shouted at the screen, a carrot puree will never win over well-cooked meat.)

Never make dessert people. Never make dessert! This shouldn’t even have to be a rule (though it is, Corollary #2.2), every single person who has ever watched Top Chef knows it in their bones. Don’t make dessert.

The persistent delusion amongst the cheftestants that making dessert gets you a “free pass” is inexplicable. Richard got eliminated for a dessert last week. (Remember him, Alex? He wrote you a letter and you cried?) The only support I can find for this notion is last year’s “Wedding Wars” episode, where the cake makers (Stephanie and Lisa, as I recall) were both considered strong team performers.

That said, this week’s challenge was ridiculous. If it had just been about the culinary aspects of the challenge (keep it simple, be prepared, make it fast (but don’t rush), etc.), that would be fair enough, but to judge a cooking competition based on host/camera rapport… it’s just lowbrow. The challenge heavily favored egomaniacal extroverts and those with television/live demo experience—not necessarily the best chefs. Jamie ended up in the bottom three primarily because she failed to remain chipper and upbeat, a morning-show mortal sin. Sure, her eggs weren’t cooked, but come on: no TV chef has ever cut a corner and rushed a dish when the clock was running out?

I enjoyed Melissa’s total perpuzzlement at the critique of her too-hot habeñero sauce. I wonder if her palate is so inured to capsaicin that she really didn’t know what they were talking about? When a South Indian girl like Padma can’t handle the heat in your dish, you’ve gone too far.

Note to Danny: You want to be Bobby Flay, but actually you’re Rupert Pupkin.

Finally, a new rule:

Rule #9: You’ve got to know what an amuse bouche is. No excuses. Amuses only come up in Quickfires, so you won’t get eliminated on this rule, but follow it anyway, for your dignity’s sake.

[UPDATE] Alex kept saying, “I should have stuck to my guns”. What are your guns in this metaphor, Alex? Which guns? Where? What are you talking about?!

Richard loses on Sub-Corollary #4.2.1 (Don’t be cute with culinary terminology—is anything more essential to a S’more than melted marshmellow?) and, as an off-camera bonus, Rule #1 (Never make a salad). The S’mores reminded me a bit of Erik’s corn dogs (Season 4): a reasonably tasty foodstuff that was entirely inappropriate to the occasion. In both cases, the dish was never going to hold up after sitting on a buffet.

Not much more to say this week. The challenge this week was really pretty sadistically difficult. I was pleased, if a bit extra-perplexed, that the show didn’t even try to pretend it wasn’t Thanksgiving in July (apparently, Tom Colicchio feels obligated to continue to maintain the pretense). BTW, it’s really unfair that the judges often fault the cheftestants for using “out of season” ingredients when they are cooking seasonal meals in the wrong season.

P.S. A non-rule bit of guidance: foam never helps.

I think Padma confirms my theory that Jill talked (read: inarticulately blathered) herself into elimination last week in the following interview (via Amuse-Biatch).

Vodpod videos no longer available.

P.S. Top Chef blogging will be delayed this week, because I will be at my grandmother’s for Thanksgiving and her Internet connectivity is dodgy. As a preaction, I will say that I am always distracted by holiday specials that are obviously produced months in advance, so everybody has to put on a sweater and pretend it’s Thanksgiving in July. I do not expect anybody to learn any lessons from the Season 2 Thanksgiving catastrophe.

P.P.S. Has Stefan forsaken me? :’-(

Jill loses on Rule #2 (Never make something you’ve never made before: “An ostrich egg quiche? That’s got to be good! Hey, how do you open this thing?”). I also think she got herself Eliminated at Judges’ Table (see Rule #8, below)—judging by what was on the plate, it probably should have been Hosea, who blundered into making something everybody hated (and he thought it should have won!).

Some additions and amendments:

The main text of Corollary #2.1 should be amended to include the following: If you have to choose between interesting and delicious, choose delicious. If you have to choose between difficult and delicious, choose delicious.

Rule #3 should be amended to read: Never be a culinary student, a caterer, a Mom, or a seafood chef.

And some new rules:

Rule #7: If your plan leaves you stuck with an inferior product, change your plan. For example: your fresh Dungeness crab salad might be a winner, a canned crab salad won’t be. Just ask: Spike and his frozen scallops (Season 4).

Rule #8: Be prepared to defend your dish at Judges’ Table. Be prepared to tell them why you thought it would be good. Also be prepared to tell them why it wasn’t entirely successful (even if you liked it). Delusional tirades do not go down well. Nor does incoherent rambling about how you’ll try to do better next time, somehow, maybe, if you can only clear your head. Just ask: Jill, tonight, and Ryan (Season 4).

P.S. Top Chef producers: please define “hot dog”? Is a hot dog any kind of sausage (not necessarily in a casing) on any kind of bread? And what value, exactly, was added by having the hot dog stand lady there during the Quickfire?

P.P.S. Did anybody understand what in the hell Fabio did to those olives? When that dish came out I thought, “beef carpaccio with arugula? Lazy. (Delicious, but lazy.)” Then the judges freaked out over the olives, which they said were like egg yolks. How? Why? And how?

Josh Friedland arrives late to the emulsion debate, drags Alan Davidson and Harold McGee into it, and winds up getting it wrong:

Stefan was wrong. A vinaigrette is an emulsion.

The correct answer was:

Stefan is arguably right, but he’s being an asshole.

This was a drunken late-night pissing contest. The standard of proof is not, “does there exist an interpretation of the word emulsion which falsifies Stefan’s claim?” The standard of proof is, “(a) do you have a douchey beard? and (b) does Stefan have a leg to stand on?”

And the answer is, yes, you do, and yes, he does. The distinction here is between a strong or stable emulsion and a weak or unstable emulsion. It is possibly, through cunning and chemistry, to emulsify a vinaigrette to the point where it will remain stable for several days, but that’s nothing compared to butter, margarine, mayonnaise, or magma.

Get on the right side now, because the strong will annihilate the weak.

Let me take a stab at blogging Top Chef this year… though I’m not particularly excited for this season and last night didn’t get my hopes up. There’s a well-known tendency for competition reality shows to get stale after a few seasons and Top Chef is no exception. I think it’s not because the challenges have gotten repetitive (they have, but they’re usually fairly interesting), but because one grows weary of watching the cheftestants make the same mistakes over and over again.

Here’s a few quick guidelines for the cheftestants of the future.

Rule #1: Never make a salad. If it’s great, it’s just a salad. If it’s not great, you’re going home. Just ask: Lauren, last night; Carlos (Season 2). [UPDATE] I forgot Marcel (Season 2), who probably would have been the Top Chef if he hadn’t served a salad (with a failed attempt at a vinaigrette “teardrop”) in the finale.

Rule #2: Never make something you’ve never made before. Especially not some random Chinese noodle you just assume will work in your dish. Just ask: Patrick, last night.

Corollary #2.1: Don’t assume you’ll get bonus points just for trying. Daring counts for very little.

Corollary #2.2: Never make dessert. You’re probably not good at it.

Rule #3: Never be a culinary student, a caterer, or a Mom. For obvious reasons. Just ask: Patrick, Betty (Season 2), Antonia (Season 4).

Rule #4: Never make risotto. The judges can be persnickety and risotto is easy to nitpick. Just ask: Howie (Season 3).

Corollary #4.1: If you make a risotto, make it Rocco Dispirito’s way. Otherwise, his face might betray an emotion.

Corollary #4.2: Never try to be cute and call something that’s not risotto a risotto. That’s not cute. Just ask: Almost everybody last night.

Sub-Corollary #4.2.1: Don’t be cute with culinary terminology in general. Especially French culinary terminology. Just ask: Casey and her non-coq au vin (at the French Culinary Institute!) (Season 4).

Rule #5: Never be the team leader. If your teammates fuck you, you’ll probably take the fall. Just ask: Tre (Season 3), Dale (Season 4).

Rule #6: Never try to shift the blame. Aka the “under the bus” rule. It never works, and it makes you look like a jerk. Just ask: Dale (Season 4), Elia (Season 2).

In closing, I would like to attempt to unpack Stefan’s assertion that a vinaigrette is not an emulsion. (My first instinct is to say Daniel loses the argument by virtue of having douchey notches cut out of his beard. But let’s follow this through.) An emulsion is “a stable suspension of small droplets of one liquid in another” with which it does not mix. For example: mayonnaise. Although a vinaigrette is undeniably “emulsified,” it is not stable (i.e., the vinegar and oil begin to separate almost immediately if left to sit), and therefore not an “emulsion.”

So Stefan is arguably right, but he’s being an asshole. My kind of asshole.