Loves liquid nitrogen. Has bad hair. Sadly did not win TC4.

Well, my personal favorite TC4 finalist, Richard Blais, did not win. Of course nether did Lisa, which mitigates the disappointment. The winner was the Switzerland of finalists, Stephanie. Once again Sticky, Gooey, Creamy, Chewy has detailed the nuts and bolts of the final show beautifully (complete with the menu), so if you missed the show, that’s a great place to hit.

Of course, it is a bit silly to get overly opinionated about this stuff. Producers tend to edit these shows for drama, to set up villains and heroes, to build a case that supports their final choices about winners and losers. So it’s just not possible as a viewer to get a real sense of the personalities of the contestants, much less the the quality of food.  For all I know Lisa is a peach, and Stephanie is the devil incarnate.

But this I do know: I wanted Richard Blais to win partly (as I said before) because he’s got the cool name, but mostly because what you can see about him (at least I think you can) is that he’s a technician.  He does that whole wacky molecular cooking gig, with liquid nitrogen and stuff.  And that shit is just really cool.

I love heart, I love originality, but I also love looking at the underlying reasons that things do what they do, or are what they are – why a particular phrase is funny or isn’t (a friend’s example: drunk as a monkey, not funny.  Drunk as a DUTCH monkey, funny.)  So someone that gets into the technical part of anything is interesting to me, especially if they take risks, which Blais clearly did (he also got to show the amazing Eric Ripert something he didn’t yet know, so he had that going for him.)

He also choked (his word, actually) and didn’t close the deal.  Which is disappointing, but when you have the balls to go the route that he does and take the risks he takes, well sometimes you beef.  But that dude goes for an audience as opposed to the audience (something Joe Jackson wrote about, and something I’m going to talk about in a later post) and that’s my kind of guy, whether the medium is music, or writing, or art, or cooking.

And this I know too: given the choice of sitting down to chef’s tasting menu at any of the finalists’ restaurants, I’d choose Richard’s hands down, no question about it. I’d even drive out of my way – way, way out of the way – to do it.  And I might just, when I drive to New York later this month.

This is a post from: Bradford Schmidt's blog, Bone In The Fan.

Top Chef Season 4 Winner: Not My First Choice, Or My Last.

Padma Lakshi is somewhat sexier than Ryan Seacrest.

Unlike most reality programming, Top Chef actually has some reality in it (as well as the ridiculously hot Padma Lakshmi as a host. Mmmmmm, Padma-ey.)  Of course Top Chef does have some contrived “Quickfire Challenges” designed to build drama, but they’re actually relevant in actual, honest to goodness kitchen situations. And I’m going to assume that the producers cast chefs with at least a partial eye towards personality clashes (they all have to live in the same house) but that’s to be expected, and at least they don’t appear to be retarded like some of the cast members on Hell’s Kitchen (no disrespect to the mighty Gordon Ramsay, but I wouldn’t let some of those idiots cook me toast.  The show is a lot of fun though.)  Of course some of the “cheftestants” (Bravo’s horrible word, not mine) are arrogant whackjobs, but I’ve never met a good chef that didn’t have an inflated sense of importance or some bizarro personality defect(s).  It comes with the territory.

Bottom line though: the chefs on the show actually have m@d sK1llz as the kids say.  There is also an amazing lineup of guest judges (among them are Anthony Bourdain, Rocco DiSpirito who makes the best creme brulee ever, Wylie Dufresne, and even Daniel Boulud), you can actually learn a little bit about cooking, and the food always makes me hungry. Top Chef isn’t about finding the person most easily sold to the masses, and it’s not about watching people pork. For that, just hit up the latest season or Real World (accurately billed as Real World XX) or the abomination known as A Shot At Love With Tila Tequila (see how tricky and original they are? The show’s called A Shot at love with Tila Tequila, like a shot of tequila. Of course you can sleep off a shot of the latter – a shot of the former will make you sick forever).

But if you want to find out new and exciting was to make pork (and beef, and shrimp, and even frigging sweetbreads which I’d never have considered eating before seeing them cooked on TC), Top Chef is your show.  I got so sucked into it that after watching a single episode of the current season a few weeks ago that I DVR’d the entire previous season (which I was thrilled – yes thrilled, what of it? – to see they were running back to back one recent weekend) and watched it in two sittings.  And I had to force myself to not watch it in one.  Say what you will about the pathetic state of my life that I’d spend my time doing that, but I loved it.

And now, tonight tomorrow night, a new Top Chef will be crowned.  I have no idea if the overall winner actually gets any major long-term benefits, but in the short-term they get a feature in Food & Wine as well as a hundred grand (in cash, not the candy bar.) I do know that I’m hoping that Chef Lisa doesn’t win it all (I’m clearly a victim of the manufactured drama, and it annoys me.)  Lisa clearly has some skills, though due to editing it’s tough to tell just what or how advanced they are, but the chick takes less responsibility for her errors than my 7-year-old son Desmond, who, no matter what we talk to him about, says something about his sister making him do it, or his sister doing it first.  I mean, we can tell him he hasn’t brushed his teeth and he’ll blame his sister, regardless of whether or not she’s home.  And that’s Lisa on Top Chef.  I almost expect her to sue the show if she loses because it’s not her fault, or the judges know nothing, or whatever.

The other problem I have with Chef Lisa is that she’s always got a look on her face like she just stepped in dog shit.  Not that I think chefs shouldn’t occasionally look like they’re going to toss a sizzle pan at your fucking head because you didn’t pick up the order and it’s been sitting under the heat lamp long enough to make the potatoes crusty, I just think an occasional look of humility wouldn’t hurt.  The blog Sticky, Gooey, Creamy, Chewy has some complaints about Lisa making the final three along with a recap of part one of the finale, so if you haven’t been watching but want to tune in tonight, head over there to get up to speed before tonight’s show.

For what it’s worth, my money is on Richard Blais to win tonight because his food is good and original, it looks cool on the plate, and his name is awesome. The bone in the fan is that Stephanie appears to be really talented too (though her name is just not nearly as cool), and thus far only men have won the show. Far be it for me to suggest that producers might take that into account, but producers might take that into account. Either way, I’m-a-watching, and I’ll be hungry when I do.

This is a post from: Bradford Schmidt's blog, Bone In The Fan.

Top Chef Finale, Finally