WHO KIDNAPPED YOU AND MADE YOU BLOG THIS SHOW? No one kidnapped me. Really! I want to be here. Just because I'm phoning this one in does not mean I'm not serious about blogging this competition (to the extent that, you know, one can be serious about that sort of thing). Which is to say that I was not at all enthralled by Top Chef this week.
Was it a bad episode, or do I just have a bad attitude?
Vending machine amuse-bzzzzzZZZZzzzzZZZzzz... wha? Woah. Sorry. Dozed off there. Had this crazy dream about last season's Gas Station challenge. Says Colicchio, "it was interesting to see who used the vending machine rule as a springboard for creativity and who froze up under those circumstances." On that note, it's tempting to propose a "Brother Bluto" nickname for Michael, but I don't think he'll be around long enough to make much use of it. Lee Ann Wong comes closer to persuading me: "I have come home, relatively intoxicated, many a night to bizarre and somewhat random ingredients in my cupboards. The mark of a true chef is the 3:00 a.m. challenge."
And who knew kids would go for pizza? Or that you could degrease it and still keep it tasty? Talk about your shockers. Even the finger-pointing and "investigation" of the second day's rules infractions seemed to build to nothing at all.
If you're still hungry, there might be a smushed Snickers bar with a Cheeto on it for you in the comments. Or something.
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