Tonight, the nation’s top chefs are stymied by…pie.
Don’t coddle me.
The competition continues, and thankfully none of the middle schoolers they’ll be feeding will have to worry about an errant dreadlock in their PB&J after the early demise of John.
How much of a cocky asswipe will The Dropper be tonight? All bets are off!
Grits: The breakfast, or lunch, or dinner of champions. Grits with goat cheese? THE DINNER OF KINGS.
I’m a certain kind of person.
The love-fest that is Top Chef Masters comes to an end, and we get back to business.
Tonight, the premier, which means there will be way too many chefs to know what’s going on. Let’s go!
A nap. Actually, two naps. But barring that, I’ll take a nice cuppa.
A quick word re: my whereabouts:
The non-profit I work for has its annual fundraising gala next Thursday, and we’re all in overdrive because of it. Hence my lack of attention to comments the past few days, and the reason that the next two Smackdowns will be weekend affairs. I know you’ll forgive me.
Here’s to piles of cold, hard cash!