Oh, Top Chef. I really hate to do this, but:
As if we didn't suffer enough through the Zooey Deschanel gluten-free vegetarian episode of Top Chef Masters, you bring us yet another painful vegetarian episode of Top Chef. I'm all for little indie waifs as much as the next guy, but to have Natalie Portman and her friends put what is arguably the most talented top four/five chefs in any one season of Top Chef through the worst concept of Punk'd ever - forcing each to cook meatless meals in the carnivore's wet dream known as Craftsteak Las Vegas - and to compound it by having Portman actually sit at the judge's table, just seems bananas.
Let's face it: Padma's enough eye candy for a whole season worth of television. To have her reduced to a giggling girly laughfest at dinner over a bunch of blowjob jokes is not an added strength (that burger commercial was enough for anyone). Perhaps that is why everyone was too distracted to send Robin, who seems to be the most whatev character of any season, coasting by on the half-baked idea that good enough is all one needs to succeed, home. Mike Isabella might not have executed those roasted leeks to anything pleasantly edible, but he at least had an idea, as opposed to Robin's ramshackle clusterfuck of produce, which half of you admitted was too salty to eat as well.
It pains me to have to say this, but thumbs down, Top Chef, thumbs down. Just as I was getting over the fact you let fucking Hosea win last season, too.
No comments:
Post a Comment