Cast Blog: #TOPCHEF

Go Team?

Gail: Mei's Menu Was Almost Flawless

Make Top Chef Mei Lin's Winning Dessert!

Richard: "Gregory Had the Better Ideas"

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Hugh: Mei's a Chef's Chef

Richard: "Winning Is Overrated"

Make Mei's Sushi Style Guac!

Gail: I Wasn't Surprised Doug Stayed on Top

Get Doug's Masterpiece Brisket Recipe

Gail on Innovation (and George's Failure to Push It)

Make Melissa's Seared Duck Breast Dish

Make Melissa's Mom's Egg Custard

Hugh Worries About Scurvy and Foie Gras

Make Mei's Inspired Duck a l'Orange

Gail Has No Problem With Blood

Make George's Cravable Breakfast Sausage

Gail Simmons Won't Be Pushed Around

Make Doug's Winning Mussels

Tom Colicchio Answers Your Restaurant Wars Qs

Gail: It Wasn't Keriann's Day

Make Doug's Winning Braised Pork!

Gail: We Had a Tough Job This Week

Make Katsuji's Authentically Delicious Stuffing

Hugh: The Demise of Cornwallis and Aaron

Make Gregory's Winning Dumplings

Richard: Chefs Please Follow Instructions

Richard Tries Money Ball Soup

Make a Home Run-Worthy Popcorn Crème Brule

Hugh: Where There's a Will There's a Fenway

Gail: Keriann and Aaron Were Being ---holes

Make the Winning Surf and Turf

Gail: We're Taking No Prisoners

Richard Goes From Player to Announcer

Tom Talks Boston

Gail: There Was No Season 11 Underdog

Hugh Wants Nick to Be Kind to Himself

Gail: It Was Difficult to Let Go of Shirley

Big Easy to Ocean Breezy

Gail: The Final Four Are Like Our Children

Emeril Is Proud to Serve Shirley's Dish

Hugh: Enough With the Mexican Food Hate

Go Team?

Hugh Acheson comments on the friction among the female chefs competing in Restaurant Wars.

 

If restaurants have a 50% failure rate in the first year, then they have a 98% failure rate when the idea is conceived amongst four tired chefs with five hours to plan, cook, and serve. One will take failure as a time to pack knives and return to the real world. As an aside, I have a real hope that someday a team of chefs will do one of those “dining in the complete dark” restaurants on Top Chef. Chris Jones would be killa at that. 

Alas, we find ourselves at an event space in Austin. Palm Door, evidently named by someone with less time on their creative schedule than the chefs. Herein we find the pitfalls of underseasoning, the pratfalls encountered when you don’t have an expeditor, the illogic of giving your emotionally unstable co-chef both main courses to cook and plate, the perils of not defending yourself when the hordes attack, and the sanctity of pacifism. 

The episode starts out with no Quickfire. Just Beauty and the Beast, and I am not the Beauty. Battle of the sexes, Restaurant Wars-style. 

Ed takes some pokes right off the bat at Sarah, still quietly reeling from Sarah’s need to take a medical break from barbecue cookery and suck down oxygen like Dennis Hopper in Blue Velvet. 911 ain’t no joke in this town. 

Sarah is concerned about Beverly, something really justifiable at this point, as it has become abundantly clear that Beverly comes from a happy place where everyone moves in a slow way, where there is no malevolent force, just clouds shaped like smiley faces, and chirping birds of encouragement. Every time I watch her I wonder how the hell she gets through a day in a professional kitchen, but then again, she often pulls out pretty darn fine dishes out of her dime bag of tricks. The pacifist tortoise may win this race yet, against some eager bunnies.

When we are talking about creating a restaurant on the fly, you have to cover some bases. I would deem getting the food out in a timely manner paramount in that organization. The importance of the expeditor cannot be underestimated in all of this. But the catch 22 is that each team only has four people, with one of them playing the role of maître d’. Crazy times are in store, as both teams leave it to the team of temp waiters to make sure food gets out on time…. Bad move. 

Poor Beverly. Is she the pacifist tortoise in this competition or the ugly duckling? Either way the chefs should watch out cause that duckling may turn out to be a beautiful swan, which pecks out the eyes of the other swans that gave it a hard time, and then eats their babies. The condescension from Lindsay and Sarah is by the platter full in this episode, and it’s all shoveled at Beverly. This girl needs to stop capitulating to these taunts and start fighting back, cobra-style. I have compared Bev to three animals in one paragraph.“We are chefs, we cook.” Ed explains why no rational human wants to be the maitre d’. Don’t worry -- he’s taking the reigns and has brought a suit. 

I really wanted the guys to let Chris Jones name the restaurant The Romulan Rib Shack and have the waiters all dress like Vulcans. Oh well. Instead Paul has an idea: “I have a name. It’s Canteen… it’s a communal place to eat.” True dat, Cracker Jack. 

Beets, beets, beets, beets beets beets. Sarah is making Beverly ride the short bus on the way to Whole Foods and Sur La Table. Beverly, that means “on the table” in French. How Grayson has jumped out to be the most professional and mature chef in the women’s group is not what I expected after her bullfrog song from last week. She is attempting to bring civility to the situation, but not really succeeding. Beverly gets admonished a lot while shopping. They make her use one of the little kid’s carts. 

Chris Jones and the Kobayashi Maru. Am I surprised that he’s crazy for the Star Trek? Not at all. The Kobayashi Maru is a test for cadets to see if they will save the passengers and crew of a ship in enemy territory, risking all out war, or let the ship go and abandon the passengers and crew. I just love the editing with him proudly putting on his fighting uniform, music and all, before going out to make deconstructed Cracker Jack ice cream. Chris abandons the other three chefs to freeze stuff in the corner, failing the test, and the Tribbles take over.  

Canteen is going for a dorm look/mess hall. It actually looks pretty good. Remember, you had more time to style your hair this morning than these chefs had to decorate, cook, serve, clear, etc….

Things are going a little rough for the guys. Warm wine, whiny invited guests, grumpy judges (not me -- I was wearing my white bucks, which give me a honey badger attitude in life). Here comes the food:

Ham and Eggs, Paul. It is like a rillette. It was good, but the toast was greasy. The whole thing needed something. Nice presentation though.

Thai crab cup with caramel sauce, Ty-Lor. Flatness. Needed lime. It was boring, absolutely no pun intended. It failed to evoke really anything Thai. It could have been a Minnesota crab cup for all intents and purposes. 

Salmon, TyLor and Paul. Needs salt. Why has Paul taken on three dishes with Chris Jones taking on just one? The salmon looks great, but lacked cohesion… and mushrooms. Ty-Lor kind of flubbed pickup.

Roasted Pork Belly, Paul. It’s a pretty simple pork belly. Tasty but lacking something to push it over the top. Not Paul’s best day. But his worst day is still better than most people’s. His worst days put him in the middle of the pack. 

Cracker Jack, Moto Chris. I thought it was a mess, but Tom and Padma kind of liked it. Each to their own. Chris does not feel as I do, and says “This is what we do: prep, serve, kick ass and go home.” His Vulcan logic is on that green tinged planet where everyday is opposite day and thus cannot realize the complete shit-show of a service that has just occurred. 

Almond Joy, Ed. It had a minute coconut component, which makes the name an issue. But Ed ran the floor pretty well. Chefragette City time. 

Lindsay is building Half Bushel. We do not know yet if its half-empty or half-full philosophy. Her décor looks good. Lindsay chooses to explain her dish to Beverly in the fastest speech ever seen. Beverly understands none of it. Beverly begins to fight back at Sarah and then says, “I’m sorry,” like a sad puppy. 

We really did spend some time waiting at the front door, which would confuse you at most restaurants, but was a real lapse in the Bushel. I wasn’t irritated though, but then again, I was not in my White Bucks Honey Badger positive place. Luckily, the women chefs did not have an exposed kitchen because the sight of them screaming at each other would have made for many poor Yelp reviews. Sarah is freaking out. Lindsay is calling Bev “f--king retarded.” This is getting restless. 

“She f--ked my fish.” “You were f--king up my dish.” Yikes. I have to have a mental break and wash my brain out with soap. 

Peach and Bacon vinaigrette, Grayson. Nice. Really clean and good. Could have been killed by the bacon vin, but it was great. 

Risotto balls. Arancini. I was not a fan of the pureed caponata. Tom was. I did like the risotto. Great stuff overall. 

Bev, Shortribs with Red Curry. Plate of the night. It’s about the food, people. Grilled Halibut, Spanish-style, Lindsay. Dry. Overdone. Pickup was a disaster because both mains were on Bev. I know, I know, but it really did rock.

Chaum torte, Grayson. Also very good, but lacked a bit for me versus all; the other judges. A solid shout-out to her family roots in food though. She is a really good chef. Rock on, Bullfrog. 

Italian Doughnuts. Rich. Leaden. Not my thing. 

Chris Jones is voting for the girls. “This is the nicest dinner we have had since we’ve been here.” Then he realizes that sounds bad and recants. Edward demotes him to swabbing the decks of the USS Canteen. 

Half Bushel wins the best of the much-maligned restaurants in the wars. Beverly stuns with the win. No matter what you think the key was to present a better restaurant and then individually present the best food for your dish, Bev did that while being chewed up with insults. Does she work in a way that I think is correct in the world of restaurants? Hell no. She’s a strange bird, but she really can cook. And she’s plodded past the majority to get this far. If you asked me to wager on her longevity at the beginning, I would have said, “No way she lasts.” But her food pushes her through. 

She wins a trip to Napa and a bigass bottle of wine. Sarah openly tells the chefs that Lindsay deserves a win more. Go team. 

Alas, Ty-Lor goes home. He was never boring. He will be missed.