I live to serve. Unless the majority vote had wanted liveblogging of Chopped, which fortunately only 2 hapless souls did because then I would have had to crush your dreams. I even did my homework, going to the Fox site to check out the remaining contestants so I wouldn’t have to refer to them as “fat Chicago guy” or “girl with lazy eye.”
Although I probably still will, because I’ve already forgotten half of them. Especially if there actually is a girl with a lazy eye. Fingers crossed! I even read a recap of the last episode, and from that I was able to glean that this group of yahoos make the Top Chef contestants look like a Daniel Boulud-Joel Robouchon-Eric Ripert hybrid,* so this should be at least amusing. Plus, there’re, you know, all the f-bombs, and the punk-ass maitre ‘d. See you at 9!
*I was going to say “sandwich” but that’s a somewhat unfortunate mental image.
9:00: LAST WEEK: A bunch of stuff that I didn’t see. Someone can’t cook meat. If you can’t cook meat, how did you get on this show? I read your bio. You’re a chef of some kind. COOK SOME DAMN MEAT.
As an aside, when I was reading the bios earlier, all the women’s were beyond condescending – the first sentence of everyone said nothing about their skills and everything about how they’re “cute” and “spunky.” Bite me, bio writers.
9:03: A woman named Carol doesn’t like a woman named Andrea. Carol is merely angry, whereas Andrea looks like she wants to cut a bitch. Really.
Already, these people have cursed more in the first 4 minutes than I do in a week. I feel so virtuous!
9:05: Today is the KING OF CHALLENGES! Everyone has to name chicken dishes and then they learn they’re working with…king crab. Everyone has to cook, but each team only gets to present one dish.
I don’t know if fat guy (I’m allowed to call him that, being fat myself) is going to be able to make a dish, because he looked ready to suck that shit right down whole, with a stick of butter. And those crabs are crazy looking. We don’t need Andrea to cut a bitch when we have these giant killer crabs.
9:07: Contestant: “Chef, can you find me a chinois?” Ramsay: “Go fuck yourself.” Which is a completely appropriate response. Have you never seen the show before? Although maybe if she had yelled it, he would have admired her spunk and found one: “CHEF, FIND ME A FUCKING CHINOIS RIGHT NOW, YOU PATHETIC MULE.”
I see that Ramsay has, indeed, learned a lot from Marco Pierre White: cooking, and limp finger wagging.
9:08: Some of this food actually looks…good? I’ve seen past seasons of this show, and everyone was a hack. I’m a little surprised. I’m sure things will turn by the end of the episode.
Every contestant tells Andrea to leave the crab shells off her plate, because what’s the point? Strangers come in off the street to tell her not to do it. The opposing team tells her not to do it. The angel Gabriel comes down from heaven to tell her to leave them off the plate.
9:09: Red team: Andrea’s dish sounds good, but it looks like a mess. A hot mess.. A hot tranny mess. A hot tranny mess WITH THE FUCKING CRAB SHELLS ON THE PLATE. Also it’s bland and disgusting. So points all around!
9:11: The blue team’s guy is a yakker. I’ve forgotten his name, so that’s what I’m going to call him from now on. He talks for 20 minutes to explain crab and asparagus.
He calls for more dishes. Paula, one of the few people who does not want to cut a bitch, produces something good, as does a redneck-y looking guy named Danny.
9:15: WINNER: Redneck. Losing team has to clean the dorms…and all the king crabs for tomorrow night’s service. Chumps.
9:17: Fat guy is more annoying than he is fat. And dude? Is FAT, so you do the math. Redneck and the blue team are going to Santa Monica for a special dinner with Chef.
Because the guys are classy, they appear to be smearing shit all over the dorms for the red team to clean up. Like monkeys. Or, you know dudes. Yes, leave your skid-marked undies on the bed. Don’t worry, no one will ever see what an immature douche you are. Except for the millions of viewers. Do you have a girlfriend or wife? I bet she’ll think it’s HILARIOUS when she sees it.
9:19: Santa Monica pier. Segways. Blue team. Shennanigans. Ramsay wipes out on the sand, showing his softer side. Poor fat guy exceeds the weight limit for a segway and he’s relegating to a giant, super-reinforced fat guy bike. Way to plan ahead, show.
9:22: The blue team returns. Carol looks like she wants to take out their kneecaps with her giant King Crab-smashing mallet. I kind of wish she would. I bet I’m not the only one.
9:25: Am still bummed that there’s no “girl with the lazy eyes.” On the plus side, there are no segments with Ramsay sitting in a chair and being all pontificating-y, nor is there Ted Allen.
9:26: DINNER SERVICE: For the first time, both teams have to come up with their own fine dining menus, which must include a crab special.
With the freedom to do anything they want, both teams create the exact same menu, with a bunch of dishes that were available in every NYC corner bistro on West 4th Street 3 years ago.
9:30: First Jean-Phillipe sighting! I love Jean-Phillipe, and his open contempt for the chefs and well-hidden contempt for the diners themselves. JP immediately gets to express his barely suppressed rage when the first app that goes out gets sent back. He’s such a sadist. It’s beautiful to watch. I don’t even think he likes Ramsay.
What is it with the need for all the yelling in the kitchen? YES, CHEF. I’M SORRY, CHEF. I HAVE HERPES, CHEF. There are only 7 people in the whole damn kitchen. Do you get bonus points for the yelling?
Apparently we yell because we are SOLDIERS in the army of fine dining and we POWER THROUGH.
9:32: Even the customers are cursing! One is foolish enough to approach the pass and is told she looks like a dog. She gets a new dish, but is also told she should be kept on a leash like the dog she is. So now I hate Ramsay a little, because that crossed the line.
9:34: Never in the history of fine dining has their been such a long and heated argument about gratin dauphinois. Never have I been more bored listening to an argument about gratin daupinois. I don’t know if it’s this particular argument, or if arguments about gratin dauphinois are inherently dull. JP actually gets called into the kitchen to chastise Carol directly.
Who is to blame? I can’t tell over the drama of Carol and Andrea wrestling to throw one another under the same bus.
The blue team’s potatoes also suck. Their “pommes fondant,” which I’m pretty sure are supposed to be carved into small olive shapes and crisped in butter, look like oversized pupae.
9:38: Ramsay can’t keep his pity for the diners in check any longer: Look at the poor souls waiting for their food! They’re fucking starving! The people demand carpaccio! It’s a humanitarian crisis! Or a standard Hollywood diet.
9:40: Wow, there was so much cursing in that sentence that it was literally impossible to get even the gist. Someone doesn’t fucking like something, or else something is really fucking awesome; that’s all I got.
Potato dauphinois woman is a “fucking cow.” Somehow that’s more offensive to me and not as funny as “fucking donkey.” Get with it Ramsay. Pick funnier animals. Weasel. Groundhog. Duckbilled platypus. Brachiosaur. There’s no excuse for this kind of laxity. You have time between seasons to come up with a list.
9:43: YES! SOMEONE IS A FUCKING DONKEY! I don’t know who because I’m typing and not looking at the screen, but I know it’s someone and that’s enough for me.
Fat guy, if the fire burning inside you was hot enough to be napalm, let’s face it: you’d be less fat. Also dead. But dead and thin.
Aaaand….the restaurant is inevitably closed down, giving JP the opportunity for his star turn, sneering at the chefs and apologizing falsely to the customers.
9:49: WINNER: Red team, for sucking only slightly less than the blue team. Which means that both the ultimate fighter chicks will be around for another weeks’ cage match.
Redneck, who flew under the radar all night, has to pick who goes. Redneck is reveling in his power. Also, he looks like he might have been partaking of some Mary Jane. Or a lot of Mary Jane. You know, this is not the first time in reality cooking television that someone has done their best job while under the influence of something, legal or illegal. Future contestants: Take the hint.
9:54: Redneck throws Ben up for elimination: “He’s met his full potential.” Ramsay goes in for the full interrogation.
Ben: “I should stay because I lead and I go balls to the wall.” Yuck.
Robert: “I wear 10% of my heart on my sleeve, and the other 90% goes into the food.” Shouldn’t it all go into the food? Maybe then you would suck less. I mean, that’s just my opinion. Also: Not literally.
9:56: Montage of everyone sucking. Soup sucks. Filet sucks. Potatoes suck.
9:57: Some Carol, who wasn’t even on the losing team, gets booted for sabotage. Another career destroyed by gratin daupinois. Will America’s culinary students never learn? At least Andrea will now be able to stay out of jail, because the temptation to shiv has been removed.
Also, why bother having teams and a loser and winner? Let’s just call it what it is: Ramsay’s methamphetamine-fueled whim.
9:58: Ben: “Only god knows what a soldier I am.” He is a martyr to the kitchen. He is on a kitchen crusade. It’s only a little creepy.
NEXT WEEK: Fat guy will step on everyone’s neck to get to the top. Which is literally dangerous. Two people get the boot. He yells directly into someone’s face: “DONKEY!” Not even a fucking donkey. When he can’t even muster the expletive for you, you know you’re fucked.