I ain’t gonna lie and say this was easy… for anyone. It was a slog. Kristen battled through umpteen Last Chance Kitchen’s slaying dragons and giants (literally), and Brooke had to endure hours of ukulele and having to make up songs with Sheldon. To Sheldon, making up songs is easy as long as they rhyme with "munchies." Brooke also flew in helis, mushed dogs, voyaged on large boats not named Triumph, and generally had to endure her own customized version of Dante’s purgatory. Down to the wire it went, and on the semi-finale they both poured their hearts and souls into dishes and came to the finale. Sheldon poured the heart and soul of some guy named Henri into his food and disappeared into his own “Where’s Sheldon” line of postcards. He’ll be laughing first when he owns his own Relais Chateaux hotel on the North Shore with the finest medicinal pot shop in the island world. Chez Menehune, a chill resort.
So this live finale thing was completely different and wild when we first stepped into it. Wacky. It felt like a culinary Olympiad, which actually just happened about a month ago and the USA did a pretty darned fine job. Proud of Chef Rosendale and all he accomplished. Plus it was the most fun I had ever had live tweeting from a L.A. hotel room as the sun came up. I was beat for days… tweeting culinary commentary that is humorous in 12 languages is exhausting.
Kristen has a potty mouth. Swearing like a sailor. They have picked teams and Brooke has CJ, Kuniko, and Stefan. Kristen picks Josh, Sheldon, and Lizzie. They have to use scallops in the second round and snapper in the third. Some sadist was called for advice on both, and that guy suggested scallops be live and in their shells. He has been described as a youthful Canadian with one eyebrow. If you see him, give him a hug, but one of those hugs where you don’t actually touch the other person. Air hug?