Phase 3: Chicken thighs. Second only to the pulled pork, because: smoked chicken skin. Get in me, smoked chicken skin.
Phase II: My personal favorite, pork butt. Not that I eat any of it, I’ve already absorbed several pounds through my skin. But still. My favorite.
It’s time for the annual guessing game! How many pounds of pork do I have in my fridge right now?
Marcus, Rick, Susan, Jonathan and Susur remain.
In dramatic news revealed in this week’s videos on BravoTV.com, Marcus is tired. Also, he continues to flog the dead horse that is his all-denim wardrobe. The chefs will be cooking dishes inspired by a Greek god. As usual, Susur has no concept of what’s going on.
And all I wrote at the end of last week’s episode was “NEXT WEEK: Everyone goes fucking nuts.” Let’s Watch What Happens, shall we?
I meant to post this yesterday, but WordPress decided I needed the night off and locked me out of the blog. Thank you, unnecessarily paternalistic software!
Starting with me, because I clearly did not post this last night.
I got home late from work tonight and wasn’t going to Smack Down at all, but I got my shit together and smacked some Thomas Keller Ad Hoc down most righteously. And now it is close to my bedtime, and Flickr doesn’t want to upload any of my photos and I’m a little cranky and the house smells like fish. All of that to say: post coming tomorrow.
Good night, and good luck.
Six left to go before we crown the next winner and resume waiting for the REAL Top Chef to come back, and this week we have to do it without Hank Azaria.
Susur, Rick, Susan, Marcus, Rick, Jonathan: make it interesting. Please. Previews show some sass, a lot of running and a possible Marcus/Rick showdown. I don’t want manufactured drama, but I also want to stay awake.
Also: Bravo, don’t pull any of this extended episode shit on me. Because I will come for you.
Another harried weeknight, another bowl of pasta covered in green crap.