Procrastiblog

I was AWOL for two weeks, so let me just weigh in with my final thoughts and an ill-fated prediction.

Michael Chiarello: I don’t care if he’s a huge dick—though I think some of his dickishness derives from his insecurity at having spent most of the last ten years out of the trenches, pursuing a career as a celebrity chef—he’s obviously capable of cranking out really delicious food so long as he doesn’t get pushed too far outside his comfort zone (and, honestly, Rick Bayless is no different. Every last dish has been Italian and Mexican from those two). He’s got chops, but he’s outmatched. Total stars for the competition: 79½.

Rick Bayless: This guy is so gosh darn nice, I want to be his best friend. More than any other Masters chef, I want to check out his restaurant. I just need some reason to pass through Chicago someday. Total stars for the competition: 86.

Hubert Keller: He seems to be some kind of Jedi Master. Last week he cranked out 18 dishes to the other chef’s 4 or 5, without breaking a sweat, and earned a perfect 15 star rating from the critics. And he’s just so jolly. Has he ever once even fleetingly betrayed a negative emotion? Total stars for the competition: 83.

Prediction: My heart is with Chef Bayless, but I’m guessing Chef Keller, based partly on his preternatural Cool and based partly on a hunch.

Was it just me, or was this week’s challenge kind of too easy? The chefs weren’t obligated to literally mimic the given dish (i.e., this was not Top Chef New York‘s Le Bernardin challenge), so basically the challenge was to compose a dish given a main protein, 3 or 4 key ingredients, and a general idea of how they should inter-relate. The only chef who seemed to sweat if at all was Art Smith, who for some reason was deathly afraid of having to fry an egg (he seemed to think his failure to separate and whip egg whites in the Quickfire had put him under an hex).

The Critics had to make the classic Top Chef choice: what’s worse, the reasonably well-thought-out dish with the cold, overcooked fish (Suzanne Tracht’s grouper) or the horrendously ill-conceived dish that was at least edible (Art Smith’s lamb Scotch egg)? It always ends the same way: you don’t disrespect a protein and get away with it on Top Chef. You can terrify Gael Greene, but you can’t overcook your fish.

Predictions: From now on I’ll predict the opposite of whatever I think is going to happen. I really thought Suzanne Tracht was going to go the distance. Art Smith is obviously the weakest competitor, so he’ll probably win next week. Hubert Keller, Anita Lo, and Rick Bayless can turn out perfectly prepared, refined, and delicious food without breaking a sweat, so obviously one of them will go home next week. Let’s say Anita Lo, since her performance this week was so outstanding (the highest star total yet, by a star and a half!).

Nils Norén, you broke my heart.

Michael Chiarello is creepy, right? He’s go an amped-up, fake-y charm. You can see why it works when it’s aimed straight at the camera on the Food Network, but when the Magical Elves crew take two steps to the left and you have to watch him relate to actual human beings, he’s like a Charming Lifestyle Robot exuding unctuous semi-gayness.

But, damn, it turns out he can cook. And the only guy who had a shot at him—amped-up, twitchy seafood chef Rick Moonen, who could have knocked him off the pedestal with a 3-star shrimp corndog in the Quickfire—just…. didn’t. (What was that about? Has any Top Chef contestant ever failed to get something, anything, onto the plate?)

This week: Art Smith, Jonathan Waxman, Michael Cimarusti, and Roy Yamaguchi. Since none of these chefs are particularly famous or female, I’m going to choose the hometown boy: Jonathan Waxman.

Wow, 0 for 3. Obviously, the “most famous chef” rule of thumb is not working. I would say one should always choose the stony-faced female chef, but all of the remaining chefs are men. (That’s a total of 3 female Masters out of 24, for those keeping count. And 2 of the 3 advanced to the Champions’ Round. (Cindy Pawlcyn was insufficiently stony-faced.))

Next week: Lachlan MacKinnon-Patterson, Michael Chiarello, Nils Norén, and Rick Moonen. MacKinnon-Patterson is young and all the winners so far have been old. Michael Chiarello is a food and lifestyle celebrity, not a restaurant chef (i.e., he’s soft). Rick Moonen is a seafood chef (Rule #3). I’m picking Nils Norén, who was the Executive Chef at a really good restaurant (Aquavit) and who has to look his French Culinary Institute students in the eye.

P.S. Top Chef: Las Vegas will premiere August 26! That will make six seasons and a spin-off in less than four years. Doesn’t Bravo have any more housewives or spoiled rich kids they could put on TV?

P.P.S. Bravo, the unofficial network of The Gays, totally succeeded in confusing me on the point that Neil Patrick Harris’ friend David Burtka is his boyfriend. Why would they be cagey about that?

My predictions aren’t turning out so good. I abandoned the “most famous chef” heuristic after the Wylie Dufresne debacle. So I went with Wilo Benet based on, oh, let’s say intuition. Things were looking good in the Quickfire, but who knew the producers would throw Rick Bayless a slow pitch over the center of the plate, offering him the opportunity to make tacos de lengua, which he’s probably made thousands of times (beside which, tongue is by far the most palatable of the four kinds of offal in attendance).

Next week: John Besh, Anita Lo, Mark Peel, and Doug Rodriguez. I’m going back to the most famous chef: John Besh. He beat Mario Batali on Iron Chef, after all (and was almost an Iron Chef himself).

[UPDATE] In observance of the birth of our glorious nation, there will be no Top Chef Masters this week. Feel free to watch a repeat of The Fashion Show instead.

Congratulations to Suzanne Tracht (aka Chance the Gardener). It’s interesting the extent to which she, like Hubert Keller, pretty much dominated the competition from the get-go. That said, it doesn’t seem quite fair that Chef Tracht’s Quickfire-winning amuse bouche had the least representation of vending machine ingredients, using Fritos and Dr. Pepper as accents in a dish composed primarily of micro-greens and shallots. The other chefs’ plates had a vending machine protein right in the center of the plate. (I’m not sure I even consider a salad an amuse bouche, but what the hell do I know. It beats fruit gazpacho in  Granny Smith apple bowl.)

With Wylie Dufresne choking on the Quickfire, my predictions get off to a rocky start. I don’t expect things to get any better through these first rounds, since I’m just making wild-ass guesses. (Speaking of Wylie Dufresne, can I just say that I am so, so sick of the molecular gastronomy debate, and particularly the “I’m not a fan of your arid, soul-less approach to food, but this dish happens to be delicious. I nevertheless refuse to admit there is any problem with my a priori commitments,” style of criticism you saw in evidence from James Oseland and Gael Greene toward Wylie Dufresne. I say this as someone who has eaten at Drufresne’s restaurant and didn’t particularly like it. The idea that there are certain ingredients, techniques, and tools that can’t be used to make proper “soul-ful” food is just… ridiculous.)

Next week: Rick Bayless, Wilo Benet, Ludo Lefebvre, and Cindy Pawlcyn. My prediction? Wilo Benet. Because I like the name Wilo.

P.S. Can Jay Raynor please replace Toby Young on the regular show?

P.P.S. Can Elizabeth Falkner please come over and make me some cookies?