Colicchio gets his serious face on and says "this was the worst dish we've had in three years," but the criticism, though doubtless it is fair and well-observed, is flat and lifeless when placed next to Tony's spicier more creative expressions of culinary dismay. Tom's dig would have sounded better -- more serious, dramatic and more direly condemnatory -- if Bourdain had not just busted out with "not in prison, you couldn't serve that" as the culmination of his own acrimonious tear against the dish in question. In his own words, from this week's blog post:
"Short of biting the heads off kittens while dressed up as a storm trooper, I don't think I could look any less sympathetic."Far from it, Tony -- Mr. Bourdain... CHEF BOURDAIN! My apologies! -- allow me to do more than sympathize: allow me to pretend I could actually taste the food and so participate vicariously in your charismatically expressed disgust! Yes! YES!! That was the Devil's Own Broccolini! You just kicked my favorite remaining contestant off the show and all I can say is "thank you." Thank you for keeping this artificial process of illusory culinary adventure amusing for me.
It's down to five now, so everybody chime in with who you've got for the finals and the win. I'll take Casey v. Dale with Casey as the winner, based entirely on the "guitar of victory" overdub that she got tonight while presenting her elimination challenge dish. They've been setting us up to like these two for awhile, quietly, and NorthPark Center vs. Halsted Street makes for an amiable contest with tidy cross-appeal for key Bravo target demographics.
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