Amuse Biatch Says, "Thanks for the MFMemories" (and the MFMention!)

Oh, Possums, he reads us! He really reads us! Fast forward to the last 45 seconds and listen closely. (Confidential to Brian: it was all Charlus!) ;)

Ousted from Elk's Kitchen, MFMalarkey Tells It on the MFMountain: I Hate Bloggers, Fauxmicah!

Possums, it should come as no surprise that, today, "B" stands not for "Brian" but for "bitter."

As Ted Allen, our favorite gay cannibal and honorary lifetime possum, notes in his blog, "I had a conversation with Brian after he came so close to victory and then had it slip from his grasp, and he was pretty disappointed -- more than he let on in the show."

But he was certainly happy to let on in this just-published interview, once again chock-full of delighted-squirm-inducing pronouncements from the MFMouth of MFMalarkey:

* Getting on "Top Chef": "I didn't audition for the show. They sent a scout to San Diego and talked to a lot of people. They were going to put me on Season 2 but decided I wasn't what they were looking for. They got (chef Frank) "Frankie the Bull" (Terzoli) from San Diego instead. Then, they called me for Season 3. I did a few interviews, and they put me on."

[Talk about getting mutton for lamb. To think that Bravo producers last season replaced Brian the Bullshitter with Frankie the Bull! The rejection and subsequent courting lend interesting nuance to MFMalarkey's maidenly comment yesterday that it was he who didn't want to go on the show because he did not want to be a pawn.]

* Cooking for famous food judges: "(New York's) Daniel Boulud (Daniel) and Sirio Maccioni (Le Cirque) were both so passionate, so sweet and so nice. But some of them come in and are cutthroat, like (author/chef/TV personality) Anthony Bourdain. He just wants to be an a--- so he can get more airtime. Viewers don't know all that they put us through."

[Again, ain't it sweet? We didn't realize that the word "asshole" was so verboten within the Fourth Estate.

Here's what the "asshole" thinks:

"Indeed. It's not that Brian isn't a good cook. He's clearly very talented. His flavors are usually, it appears, excellent. His technique also excellent. He deserved to be in this competition -- and by whatever means he got there -- deserved to be in the finals. It's that he's often clueless about what he's done wrong -- and why anyone would disagree with him.

I'm sure that Brian still believes that his Jumbo Sirloin With Barbie-Head/Potato Hash was undeserving of scorn. That making an ugly but delicious shepherd's pie for a table of French master chef educators was an adequate effort. And I fear that when he looks back on the inexplicable and insanely awful decision to invite Eric Ripert to cut a fat slab of Gorgonzola onto a (presumably) nicely composed plate of elk ("Help yerseff to some fixin's, pardnuh!!") he's still wondering what went wrong. Where Brian fell down was on the conceptual end. Killed off -- as so often happens -- by a Bad Idea." ]

* Reading the blogs: "I'm weaning myself off them. They're vicious. They attack me, my wife, my dog. These people don't seem to have anything better to do."

[Um, first of all, we do have better things to do (and we do them); it's just that we enjoy doing this (like Hung, we lack both "heart" and "soul"). Secondly, we never attacked your dog; we believe in intraspecies honor. Look, Brian, possum, we'll level with you. You're a very cute guy (especially once you shaved that asinine soul patch), but it's not our fault that you had a penchant for bullshit, airy-fairy dish names, ugly man-jewelry and stupid hats (we're not positive, but we think even the International Male catalogue has banned thumb rings and leather wristbands). You might, as you claim, be loved by the Gays, but possum, we's a tough crowd, and tough crowd equals tough love. Also, it's not our fault that your wife put specific information that presumably implicates you on a public MySpace page for all the world to see. On the positive side, we applaud and congratulate you for not saying that you were weaning yourself "off of" blogs. Good grammar is a wonderful thing to behold. See? We're not all bad.]

* On cookbook author/actress/host/hottie Padma Lakshmi: "She's highly intelligent. We joke that the scar on her arm is where they put in her batteries - she's the only one who wears an earpiece."

[Meow, possum! We can see why the Gays love you. As for the earpiece comment: thank you! It all makes sense now. That's... why... Padma... talks... so... slowly,... because... producers... are... feeding... her... lines....]

* Glad to see her go: "I didn't like Micah - the one who dissed ketchup - from the get-go. Supposedly, she was from South Africa, but her accent was different every day. Later, we found out she was from Massachusetts."

[You'll get no disagreement from us, possum. Miami was definitely not big enough for two bitches in funny hats. One of you had to go. But, also, hmmmmm, just where did you learn Fauxmicah was from Massachusetts? Who could have told you that? Who could it be? Could it be...Satan, er, a blog?!? (You're welcome, possum.)]

*Tips for aspiring "Top Chef" contestants: "I don't know why you'd want to do it. You get destroyed in the blogs, it's exhausting, and the judges are merciless....

[Aw, possum, you should have listened to Sam Talbot, when he told you not to read the blogs. What was it he said again? Something about discovering things about yourself that you didn't know?]

Is Sam Talbot a Steaming Bag?

Possums, no doubt we will never, ever understand what the womenfolk of Christendom see in his armpit-steaming, morally challenged persona, but we must grudgingly admit that of late Sam Talbot has become just a tad more likable for us.

Why? Well, because he's taken rather well to blogging, the evils of which he warned this season's cheftestants about, and because he seems to have developed self-awareness. It's a bit of a Stanley Kubrick moment.

Having surrendered to the Dark Side, and now that he is That Guy (Who Blogs), lil' Sam starts off thus in this week's edition of his blog:

"A little gratuitous self-promotion.
I'm in a contest for Glad SimplyCooking Microwave Steaming Bags. If I'm voted the 'steamiest' chef, the Juvenile Diabetes Foundation will get $30K."

A worthy cause indeed, and well, Sammy, you've definitely got our vote for Steaming Bag.

See? There's a tip about blogging: try not to make it too easy.

Other than that, Sammy seems to be learning his lesson pretty well:

"What I learned about the reality genre, blogging, and human nature is this: criticism (AKA snarkiness) is easier, funnier, more provocative, and more entertaining than empathy. Just ask New York Magazine. That doesn't mean it's always the right way to go--or the only way to go (more on this later. Bourdain's blog is a perfect example of striking the right balance--can he just be made a judge already?"

Allow us to quibble for just a second. Criticism is most definitely not the same thing as snarkiness, but we agree with you that "OMG Sam! You are so hot! You were, like, totally robbed!" is neither provocative nor entertaining. If that's empathy, include us out.

Oh, and look, a dash of self-deprecation: "Ah ,yes, good ol' Restaurant Wars. I'm glad these chefs were familiar with the challenge. I wasn't. (La La Lame-o.) " Well-done, possum!

And there's this:

"The World Wide Web is 2007's version of the water cooler. And in the blogging world, snarkiness rules. But let's face it--without bloggers the reality genre might not be as popular. (The point that I'm writing this IN a blog is not lost on me.)"

See? What did we say, possums? It gives us chills; it's 2001: A Space Odyssey or AI: Artificial Intelligence all over again.

Finally, watch Sammy make a gay joke:

"And to the criticism of black tablecloths--I'm not quite sure Dale would mind eating off of [sic] Billy Idol."

Oh, Sammy, possum, let's not project now. Still, all in all, a good start.