Stefan Richter: I Did Not Call That Woman, Ms. Lauren, a Douchebag!

In her recap of this season’s inaugural episode, our pal Lesley of Eater LA touched on the “this season on Top Chef” montage, in which Stefan Richter and Jamie Lauren are having a teensy bit of a discussion.

During the rapid montage, the word “douchebag” is uttered, and Ms. Lauren appears to take umbrage, presumably thinking, as does the audience, that it was directed at her. And so Lesley wrote, “…Stefan calls Jamie a douchebag.” (As an aside, we ought to note that Jamie falls far short on the Angry (Lesbian) scale as compared to last season—no chairs thrown, no trashcans kicked, no crotches grabbed.)

But Herr Richter has stepped forward to say, “ ‘Tain’t so.” Quoth Stefan: “by the way i did not call her a douchebag, i said i don't want to look like one.”

Fair enough. He wants to clear his name, and of course it’s a good thing that he didn’t resort to calling Jamie that. And yet we can’t help being the slightest bit disappointed. After all, what kind of reality television villain would disclaim these kind of legend-burnishing attributions, and so early in the game?

For of course he is being groomed by Bravo’s editors, and by Daniel Gagnon’s xenophobic insecurities, as this season’s villain (though in our book, idiocy can be much more villainous than competence). No matter; we like Stefan as a villain, even if the editors have to resort to the Eurovillain trope that runs from Henry James to the James Bond pictures to Alan Rickman in Die Hard and Anthony Hopkins in The Silence of the Lambs. Stefan is a savvy villain, and this tickles us. For one thing, he clearly plays to the camera and gives good “villain face.”

We’re certainly convinced. If we saw him in the supermarket produce section going through the fava beans and with a bottle of Chianti in his shopping cart, we’d definitely run the other way.

So alright, Stefan, possum. It’s fine to play nice, but not too nice, you hear?

Having Just Survived Sherman, Is Atlanta Ready for Dale Talde? Lesbians, Lockers and Pork Bellies Advised to Hide

Can it be true, possums? Is everyone's favorite crotch-grabbing, foul-mouthed, chipmunk-cheeked, locker-punching, Lisa-hating, vanity-belt-buckled, Littlest Gangsta really leaving the Big Apple for the Big Peach, or whatever Atlanta is calling itself these days?

These people seem to think so. According to them, Dale is going to be the new chef at Aja, an Asian restaurant opening later this year "in the former Emeril's restaurant in Alliance Center near Phipps Plaza." Apparently, the restaurant is owned by the same folks that own Home, where Richard Blais is running the kitchen and recently earned four stars. As much as we would like to believe this, we can't help but note that the source says Dale Levitski while using a picture of Dale Talde, which makes us a little uneasy; if they can't tell the Dales apart, how reliable can this information be? If you possums know anything more concrete, feel free to send in the details.

The Sous-Chefs Speak Out

Bourdain: I’m Not Blogging for Bravo Because of Product Placement, and Dale Talde’s Dish Was the Worst I’ve Had on “Top Chef”

Well, that explains it, possums.

As you may remember from last season, Anthony Bourdain's Top Chef blog on Bravo's website was far and away the most entertaining--who could forget his picking a fight with poor, little freeze-dried Rocco DiSpirito?--and Bravo recognized it. It was nominated for a Webby, and Bravo encouraged readers to vote for it.

So it was rather surprising when the blog did not return this season. And now, courtesy of Bourdain himself on his Travel Channel blog, there seems to be an explanation:

A final note to conspiracy theorists. There is no pressure from the producers to either keep particular contestants--or send others home. In all my appearances on Top Chef, I've never seen it, never felt it. I pity any producer who'd dare suggest to Tom Colicchio that he send someone home who did not deserve it--or spare the poorest candidate for reasons of greater drama. In fact, it's his moral gravitas that makes Top Chef worth watching, in spite of all the heavy-handed product placement and occasional silly challenges.

As for me? I could give a rat's a** who the producers or Bravo want to win or not win . What I've traditionally used the Glad Family of Bags for would probably not make a good commercial. When I read the surprising announcement that Michelob, a beer I don't drink and don't much like, was going to be "sponsoring" my Bravo blog, I advised them that I felt compelled to disappoint them.

Ah, so that was it. Michelob, eh?

As you can probably guess, this came in the context of the controversial decision on last week's episode to oust gayfaced, crotch-grabbing, locker-punching, weepy, gangsta wannabe and walking Napoleon complex Dale Tale. But Bourdain explains all:

So what did happen? How come the more talented Dale, with a far more distinguished record of wins than his teammates, was the one to pack his knives....and...go? Lisa, it appeared, had two seriously screwed up dishes. Dale only had one!

True enough. But oh, what a one.

Dale's "Butterscotch Scallops were supremely bad. Jaw droppingly bad. So bad that there was a long, awkward moment at the table when all the judges just sat there, silent, stunned with disbelief that anyone--especially Dale--could serve something so...disgusting. It's the only time on Top Chef that I literally could not take another bite.

...

Lisa's laksa was screwed up. Unpleasantly smoky. But I could eat it. Her "sticky rice" dessert was awful. But not dig a hole in the ground-stick my head in--pour in Clorox bad. Like those scallops. They were distinguished by their sheer degree of awfulness, sucking everything around them down with.

Judging on Top Chef -- as has been pointed out repeatedly (most recently and succinctly by my learned colleague, Ted Allen) is on a "What Have You Cooked For Me Lately" basis. We are not supposed to care what has been achieved previously. In fact, guest judges don't even know. The shows air long after filming. So Jose Andres, for instance, can in no way be expected to know--or care--if Dale won previous challenges, deserved to win them, loves puppies and long walks on the beach--or tortures hamsters in his spare time. After deliberation, the judges were unanimous in their feeling that it was Dale who--this week--f**ked up worst.

Well, we're convinced, possums. What say you?

Andrew D'Ambrosi On Premeditated Assault, How Season 4 Almost Became Season 2, How the Judging Is Erratic, and How There Is a Lack of Integrity

Andrew D'Ambrosi on why he didn't hit Lisa Fernandes: “I signed that contract; I’m not allowed to do things. Otherwise there would have been 400% more headbutts than any other season.”

Then, in the most tantalizing--and, alas, abruptly edited--bit, Andrew and Spike discuss how Andrew planned to throw Dale Talde out a window at the "Top Chef" house after the cameras left, presumably the same night as Dale's legendary, crotch-grabbing outburst.

Andrew: “That crazy night where he yelled at everybody, I told him to shut the f up, and he didn’t shut up, and I went away for a little bit. And I came back down and he was still crying, and I’m, like, ‘Dude, you have undeserved anger,’ and for some reason that set him off….He tried to, like, run at me, and Blais tried to, like, hold him…” And that’s where Bravo cuts the tape.

Amuse-Biatch Presents Fireworks for Memorial Day Weekend as Pot(head) Calls Kettle Asshole

Talde So: Buddascotch Buddakan’t

In a surprise move, Dale Talde, a sous-chef at Buddakan and our would-be Butterscotch Stallion, revealed himself a Butterscotch Pony, got Buddascotched and rode off into the sunset crying butterscotch tears.

Amuse-Biatch Photoessay: Cheftestant Pleads for Help After Being Trapped Inside One of the Glad Family of Products

JC Penney Thinks Padma Lakshmi and Hung Huyhn Are Excellent Asians

And who, possums, are we to disagree?

Padma and Hung are nominated in the Favorite Television Personality and Favorite Reality Star categories, respectively, at this year's Asian Excellence Awards. The awards will be handed out tomorrow at UCLA's Royce Hall, but you will have to wait until May 1, when the awards show is broadcast on E!, to see whether viewers deemed Padma a more excellent Asian than Tila Tequila.

We cannot help but wonder, though, where is Dale Talde? Is he not excellent enough?

Dancing Queen: Amuse-Biatch Salutes La Phrase Juste

Possums, when you're right, you're right, and as far as Dale Talde's terpsichorean abilities are concerned, no one has ever been more right than Amuse-Biatch commenter and resident dance critic, Hughman. To wit, "[I]n the opening credits he dances like a drunk straight girl who has her purse sitting on the dancefloor in front of her."

Q.E.D., possums, Q.E.D.

Short, Baby-Faced Asian Feels Need to Compensate for Self-Hatred by Citing Fear of Cannibalism, Becoming Raging Asshole, Doing Douchey Dance Moves

Poor, poor, poor Dale Talde.

You see, possums, he feels that life, unfair bitch that she is, has saddled him with many disadvantages: "I'm Asian, not the tallest dude in the world and I look like I'm 12."

Add to that the fact that, as Miss XaXa once put it, Dale suffers from "a case of gayface so pronounced that it might as well appear in a medical textbook," and you really have to pity the poor chap. You might even begin to understand the whiff of self-hatred.

So how does he compensate?

Well, look at the testimonials:

"I work w/Dale from Buddakan and he is one of the the rudest, most evil people I have ever worked w/. To date, 4 servers have quit b/c of him, and he has made countless others break down in tears...."

"Dale is the definition of brilliant talent who's totally nuts. I have never worked w a more temperamental chef, and finally had enough of his moods that I walked out mid-shift. Anyone know why brilliance in the restaurant world is so often coupled with crazy and mean?"

He himself says, "I have no off button."

And yet, we must confess ourselves a little disappointed. All we've seen are the gayer-than-gay surly lip-pursings and belt-buckle grabs that would get him "read" or laid, depending on the kind of gay bar it is, and, of course, the douchier-than-douchey dance moves during the opening credits of Top Chef, which, if there is a God, Dale will never live down.

Well, it's true that there have also been a few bleeps, and a little garnishing of bear droppings with pecorino and blame. But that's not much to go on.

Would the self-hating, overcompensating, gayfaced, raging asshole please step forward?

Sacré Bleu Cheese!: The Cooks and the Raw (Language)

Anthony Bourdain, Bill Buford and others write of chefs and kitchen workers as outcasts, toiling daily in a fiery furnace of profanity and ego. Though Michael Ruhlman mourns the loss of this atmosphere as the professionalization of cookery advances, to our maiden-aunt ears it nonetheless seemed very much alive during the premiere of Top Chef. 'Twas a veritable symphony of beeps.

But we clutched our smelling salts and set to work tallying and analyzing the week's profanity for your benefit, possums. We will keep a weekly count, and name an overall winner at the end of the season.

To start, it should come as no surprise that this week's winner, by a veritable Tourette torrent, is Andrew D'Ambrosi. Oy, just what is this red-nosed "kid," "cat," and "competitor" on? Then, when Padma said, "We asked you to pack up to $200 of ingredients that you cannot live without," Miss XaXa said, "Aha! Maybe he packed a little Bolivian ras el hanout?"

We know very little about these matters, but just how much could $200 possibly buy you? And what happens when it runs out?

Tune in next week to find out.

The 12 Days of Bitchmas -- Day Two: More Memoirs of a Gaysian?

Possums, it really is our fault.

Given our day job, we ought to have parsed the language more carefully before surrendering to despair.

The bit from AfterElton.com that caused all the gnashing of veneers says that “there are no openly gay men on this season….” (emphasis added). But of course!

Indeed, once Miss XaXa had a proper look at the picture of cheftestant Dale Talde that Bravo posted on its website, in which he exhibits a case of gayface so pronounced that it might as well appear in a medical textbook, she turned on one Louboutin heel and said, “Mmm-hmmm!”

Then, taking our hand and talking gently to us, as if we were a dimwitted child, she said, “His name is Dale. He’s from Chicago. Do the math.”

Then, on Eater.com, we found postings in which Dale Talde is described as “rude,” “evil,” “brilliant,” “temperamental,” “mean,” and “totally nuts.”

Ladies, gentlemen and possums, we have a winner.

And last season we were proven right about Hung Huynh in this respect, so you never know.

Still, isn’t it a tad lazy on Bravo’s part to give us another potentially Gaysian villain in the kitchen? If the judges or other contestants start talking about how Dale’s cooking is technically accomplished but lacks soul, we’re going to call for somebody to be given the Chinese water torture.

Oh, and confidential to Dale: Possum, we would be angry with Bravo not just for the gayface pic--and the belt buckle thing; remember this picture of Gaysian Top Design contestant Goil Amornvivat? Coincidence?--but also for this line in your profile: “A motto that drives Dale is ‘expect perfection ,[sic] because if you fall short your [sic] left with greatness.”

On second thought, by your logic, that sentence isn’t perfect, so it must be great.