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?]

Sister Accent Grave: Fauxmicah's Family on What Lies Beneath

Our apologies, possums, for a headline combining a Whoopi Goldberg-film pun with a French grammar pun, but we were so gobsmacked at what we are about to reveal that we couldn't stop to think of something less postmodern and pretentious.

During tonight's broadcast of "Watch What Happens," during which, we are told, Raggaydy Andy indirectly alluded to Amuse-Biatch when discussing the Fauxmicah controversy--because, let's face it, who else posted her yearbook pictures?--we received a fascinating little missive in our inbox.

It purports to come from Micah Edelstein's sister, and from Wayward and Biatchstein's enterprising preliminary investigation it certainly appears to be genuine. However, we of course cannot and do not vouch for it. And with that disclaimer out of the way, let 'er rip:

ABSOLUTELY FAKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Trust me, I grew up in the same house as her, she is my younger sister!

Our father is from Cape Town, South Africa, and we have been there. But we were all born and raised in Massachusetts, but we absolutely don't have the typical pak the cah accent, but neither our younger brother or me sound like Micah.

All our family and friends have no clue where she invented this from.

Ciao
[redacted], nee Edelstein

Breaking Fauxmicah News: Possible Sorority Girl Micah Edelstein Loves America, Hates "Top Chef"

What a relief, possums, to know that U.S. citizen and self-taught chef Micah Edelstein does not hate the foods of her native country.

Indeed, we had begun to imagine a culinary version of that ghastly short story we were made to read in high school, "The Man Without a Country," starring Fauxmicah as a woman who loathes and repudiates American country foods, only to end her days aboard a brig begging for tater tots. Our tentative title? "The Woman Without a Country Fried Steak."

Fortunately, no such fate awaits Fauxmicah. As TVGuide.com informs us, Fauxmicah has recanted. During the episode where she was eliminated, Fauxmicah is heard saying, “I’m from South Africa. I’ve never eaten fried chicken. It’s just not something that interests me in the slightest. My reaction to American comfort food? Ugh!” However, as we will learn on tonight's "very special episode" of "Watch What Happens When We Can't Get Our Act Together and Need to Recycle Material":

Feisty Micah doesn't hate Americans — but she did hate the show by the third episode.
"I've lived in Australia, New Zealand, Thailand, Spain, Italy, South America and throughout the Caribbean," she explained. "It comes across like I hate American cuisine, and I don't; I love it. But by the time [I was eliminated], you could have put anything in front of me and I probably would have just gone, ‘Ugh, fabulous.'"

Hmmm, that makes a lot of sense.

In other news, two readers have left comments stating that they were classmates of Fauxmicah's at the University of Miami, where Fauxmicah was in a sorority (!!!).

Ah, yes, ugh fabulous indeed.

At any rate, possums, if you have yearbook pics, especially of Fauxmicah "wearing her sorority letters," you know where to send them.

Like Joey Paulino, Micah Edelstein Likes It When People Come in Their Mouths

Oh, settle down, possums, and hear us out.

We had barely recovered our gastrointestinal equilibrium after Joey Pickle's statement on Wednesday's episode that his Quickfire dish was like "an orgasm in your mouth" when we came across an article on Fauxmicah in the South Florida Sun-Sentinel.

Discussing her "Tuscan Sushi Revisited," the oh-so-pretentiously-named-that-our-intestinal-cilia-wince-at-the-mere-suggestion-of-Frances-Mayes dish Fauxmicah made for the first Quickfire Challenge, the article states, "It's an example of what she describes as mouth orgasm. 'It is something my clients refer to as the, 'Oh, oh my God, that's good!' reaction they have when they eat my food,' she says."

Well, there goes our gastrointestinal equilibrium again.

Vintage Fauxmicah

Possums, are you free on July 19, do you have $40 to spare, are you feeling bibulous, and do you have a hankering to hear a (possibly real) South African accent? Well, then, have we got a deal for you.

We have just received news that "pale-skinned African-American" and U.S. citizen at her mother's insistence Micah Edelstein will be headlining an event in Ft. Lauderdale called "A Taste of South Africa," where she will be "uniquely pair[ing]" South African wines.

If you do go, possums, take some snaps and send them our way, but don't expect ostrich meatloaf to be served.

First Reaction, Part 2: America, Love It or Eat It

Possums, when last we left you, our beloved if interchangeable cheftestants were still reeling from having to catch and cook the catch of the day and from Alfred Portale’s unshaven prissiness. (Just what is it with the soul patch? we cried, resisting the temptation to rend our garments in two. Portale’s got one and Colicchio’s got one, so is a soul patch a requirement for, or a result of, working for Alfred Portale, like slender fingers and small hands? “Brian ‘Asshat’ Malarkey has one, too,” Miss XaXa reminded us, which rather made our point for us.)

(As a side note, it was clear that Padma’s jeans-and-vest outfit was from her own wardrobe, a throwback to last season’s questionable aesthetic, but, disappointingly, it wasn’t egregious enough to make a fuss about.)

It’s time for Padma to announce the Elimination Challenge, or, as she puts it, to go “from very, very fresh to something stale,” which makes us wonder if it was prophetic. Padma and Portale wheel out trolleys of food, which, quite bizarrely, cause the cheftestants to gasp and gape, and roll their eyes, and utter, scandalized and despairing, “Oh my God,” as if someone had had the effrontery to fart during Princess Diana’s funeral.

However, labels show the dishes to be someone’s nostalgia- and condescension-addled projection of what homely and homespun American cookery is, Sloppy Joes and meatloaf and macaroni-and-cheese.

The challenge, Padma tells us, is to take these dishes, which are “old-fashioned” and “not healthy,” and create “modern,” “low-cholesterol” versions.

Judging from the cheftestants’ reactions (if they were, indeed, the reactions to the food rather than to the challenge), one would think that, instead of fried chicken, Padma had wheeled out American hegemony on a plate in all its morbidly obese, Sansabelt-wearing glory. We’re second to none in our snobbery, but something about this didn’t quite smell right.

“Family classic for me is steamed fish, rice, and a lot of vegetables,” sneers Hung, “not fried chicken and creamy and buttery things. All these dishes look disgusting to me.”

Look, Hung, possum, we get it. You’re Asian, and you eat virtuously, and the Western diet is evil and artery-clogging, and you’ll outlive us all. D’accord. But, if you’re no fan of creamy and buttery things, what on earth are you doing working for Guy Savoy, master of the artichoke soup with black truffles, shaved Parmesan cheese, and warm mushroom brioche with truffle butter? Just askin’. Still, nice try at sneering Gay Villainy, o Great Eyebrow Plucker.

The cheftestants then get to pick which dish they will be reinterpreting. But! There’s a twist! They will pick in reverse order! And so the Gospels come to Top Chef, where he who was last shall be first. In this case, it was Casey, who chose the Sloppy Joe. “It must be nice to be sloppy firsts,” theorized Miss XaXa. CJ picks tuna casserole, and Lia opts for franks ‘n’ beans.

Howie picks pork chops and applesauce, and—wait, what’s that clanging of chains we hear? Is it Hamlet’s father? No, but it is the season’s second dead father, summoned by Howie to explain that the challenge resonates with him because heart disease runs in his family and his father passed away from a heart attack when Howie was young.

“Um,” Miss XaXa mused aloud, “if there’s heart disease in his family, and his dad died of a heart attack, shouldn’t he be a little less zaftig and a little more Zen? The guy’s a walking…”

“…sebaceous gland?” we suggested.

“No, a walking heart attack.” Or, as Hamlet might have put it, get thee to a gym and a shrink.

And speaking of Ophelia, here’s Micah “Fauxmicah” Edelstein, native-born U.S. citizen and product of the Bridgewater, Massachusetts, public school system: “I’m from South Africa. I’ve never eaten fried chicken. It’s just not something that interests me in the slightest. My reaction to American comfort food? Ugh!” Micah, possum, you’re perfectly entitled to your opinion, since you’re an American, and goodness knows we appreciate an internationalist point of view, but one of the things that being a world traveler is supposed to teach you is graciousness, and respect for other cultures, including your own.

Miss XaXa looked worried. “Are you alright? You’re starting to sound like a Republican: America, love it or eat it!”

Oh the dangers of falling asleep while watching Fox News!

But we digress.

Jamaica’s own Sara Mair picks chicken à la king, and then Hung, as the last to pick, opts for fried chicken and mac’ ‘n’ cheese. Now, this is important possums, because it means that the fried chicken and macaroni were available to Sara when she picked, and yet she didn’t choose them. The importance of this will be revealed later.

Then Padma reveals that the Elimination Challenge meal will be served at Miami Elks Club Lodge. Micah is brought in to disparage meat loaf, “I’m thinking that this can’t be too hard to improve upon.”

Dale is thrilled with a challenge, since updating classics is his whole shtick, and the more we see of him, the more we like him. As Miss XaXa puts it, he seems like a “dirty, dirty boy.” There’s something of a gurgling Gerber baby with a new tooth about him, but he also has an allure like a twinkling, depraved, very buff garden gnome from Amélie. In other words, Grrrrrrr. And he’s single. And he says later that he’s half Russian Lithuanian. Our math skills are as good as Sara Nguyen’s, so we’re confused; doesn’t that mean he’s a quarter Russian and a quarter Lithuanian? (Well, the manpris are unfortunate, but, as Miss XaXa is quick to point out, that’s easily remedied with a quick trip to Nordstrom.)

Talking head CJ is playing town crier tattletale again: People are incorporating cheese! That’s fat! He hopes the judges see it!

Miss XaXa notes that he looks oddly jowly during these interview segments. He’s freakishly tall and a volleyball player; whence the second chin?

When they go shopping for ingredients, our hot little Russo-Lithuanian baby Troll Doll imp buys a rotisserie chicken and instant mashed potatoes, and CJ is town crying and tattling again.

It's the Day After, and Amuse-Biatch Is Still Looking for Fireworks

Possums, do forgive our late start today (something to do with the powerful combination of Roman candles and sangria), but while we rouse ourselves, we wanted to solicit your help (though not for hair of the dog).

As you are all-too aware, the Wayward & Biatchstein investigation into Fauxmicah's meatloaf-less past was split wide open by our very own Deep Throat, a faithful Amuse-Biatch reader with a yearbook and a scanner.

In that spirit, we would like to ask any of you who might have gone to school with any of the cheftestants this season (and who have the pictorial evidence thereof), to drop us a line with the relevant evidence. Mind you, we're not looking for scandal (though if you have stories about how, for example, CJ Jacobson tattled on people during Home Ec class or Casey Thompson failed to win the Miss Sweet Potato crown, we'd love to hear them); we're just looking for mullets, braces and zits, Who They Were Before They Became for Jamie Lee Curtis the Symbol of All That Is Wrong in America.

So, possums, if you fancy being our very own little Sore Throat (Miss XaXa feels it's more dignified, and yet dirtier, than Deep Throat), we'll be sitting by our inbox nursing a Bloody Mary.

Amuse-Biatch Photoessay: Micah Edelstein Undone by Meatloaf

Playing Chicken with Fauxmicah as Snobbery Karma Ketchups Up to Her and We Search for a Colonel of Truth

Yes, possums, like a bat out of hell, meatloaf-making Micah Edelstein was pykagged tonight.

You ought to have heard the cackling and clucking when Micah announced, ever so disdainfully, "I'm from South Africa, I've never eaten fried chicken." Miss XaXa could barely contain herself, "No she di'n't! Her chicken's gonna get fried tonight."

As you may remember, thanks to a faithful Amuse-Biatch reader, earlier this week we broke the story of Micah's grade school and high school years in Bridgewater, Massachusetts. With her statement, Fauxmicah would have us believe that she spent at least seven years in the Massachusetts public school system without tasting fried chicken. To which we say, Ha! Pull our other leg, Micah; it's got bells on.

Wayward and Biatchstein did a little investigation, and we found a Kentucky Fried Chicken right in Bridgewater, located at 218 Broad Street. There is also a KFC at 985 Belmont Street in Brockton, and Brockton also has a Crown Fried Chicken. Middleboro has Fisher's Chicken House and Justins Chicken House. And there are KFCs in South Africa.

Well, perhaps it's true that she's never eaten fried chicken, but if so, it's not because she's from South Africa; it's because she's chosen not to.

On tonight's episode, she made it sound as if she were a recent immigrant, as if she had just moved to the States a few years ago with $400, a suitcase, and her baby daughter, whereas she had spent her youth in quaint old Bridgewater. She also said she had lived in the Bahamas and was quite familiar with conch, and yet for the life of her could not pry the little critters from their shells, hammering and poking at them with scissors as if it were a Jim Carrey routine. And then there was the duplicity about the lamb from last week's episode. All of this leads us to believe that she has truly earned her nickname. Goodbye, Fauxmicah, and good luck.

Pomp & Circumstantial Evidence: Romy & FauxMicah's High School Reunion

(Remember, possums, as with men, click to enlarge.)

Trouble Over Bridgewater: Fauxmicah Countered?

Don't blame Wayward and Biatchstein, possums. We merely followed our leads...to our inbox, that is.

As you may remember, cheftestant Micah Edelstein's Bravo bio lists "South Africa" as her hometown (whereas, for comparison's sake, the bio for Hung Huynh, who was born in Vietnam, lists Pittsfield, Mass., as his hometown). And we saw some rumblings on other blogs regarding the authenticity of Micah's South African accent, made by people who said they went to school with Micah. (And, as one reader pointed out, Micah did seem rather good at coming up with conflicting stories, e.g., telling the camera that she bought the lamb for her barbecue because it was on sale, but telling the judges that she did lamb because "we" (presumably her family, or perhaps South Africans in general) always barbecue lamb whereas Americans have hot dogs and hamburgers.)

In the interest of clearing up the confusion, we asked for documentary evidence, and Amuse-Biatch reader "T." obliged us. T. writes:

"I also went to Junior High and High School with Micah. She was in my homeroom.... We were not that friendly in school but she really didn't bother me. I have nothing against her; I just want to set the record straight. It is sad that she seems so ashamed of Bridgewater, Massachusetts, as to lie that her hometown is South Africa. Bridgewater is actually quite a town here in New England with a premiere State College that was actually the first teachers college in the country. Bridgewater is also home to a state prison, which has a mental hospital that is one of the best in the state. It is a very quaint New England town, which has grown a lot in the last 20 years but has been able to retain its charm. It is a much sought after town to live in and thus has very high housing prices.

....

I don't remember Micah having the accent in high school, but she didn't have a true Boston Accent either, just no accent. She has been well travelled her whole life; I remember her talking in home room about going to Europe and stuff when we were in Jr. High. I found it very interesting to listen to her tell others of her travels, since the majority of us never went anywhere past Cape Cod, New York or Florida to see grandparents.


She hung out with a lot of the popular/smart kids in school. I just think it is interesting seeing someone from my past on TV. She has always had this worldly cultured way about her so I am not surprised of how her life has gone. I wish her luck but hope she doesn't forget where she really came from because it is a place, though not exotic also not a place to be ashamed of."

Now, we should make it clear that it is Bravo, rather than Micah, which has listed "South Africa" as her hometown, so there's no proof that Micah is lying (well, except about the lamb). It's entirely conceivable that Micah mentioned Bridgewater, Mass., and Bravo opted for the more exotic place; or perhaps it was Micah who omitted Bridgewater. We simply have no way of knowing.

However, what most fascinates us is the glimpse into Micah's high school past because, for one, her high school had much better yearbook photography than ours. According to T, Micah was on the soccer and tennis teams. Check out the following pictures, possums (click on each picture for a larger version). And consider this Wayward and Biatchstein investigation closed.

Fauxmicah?

As you know, possums, Amuse-Biatch always loves a li'l' tinfoil hat action, and we are wondering whether there might be something in a mysterious comment left on The Gals' blog by one "AJ" regarding cheftestant Micah Edelstein, the behatted one with the South African accent:

"micah grew up in massachusetts, and left after high school. her accent is completely fake. i went to grade, middle, and high school with her."

Now, we've known a goodly number of South Africans in our time (Melktart, anyone?), and we have to say that her accent sounds pretty damned convincing. (What sayeth Kara Janx, South Africa's official ambassador to Bravo?) And if it's fake, well, call up Meryl Streep.

At any rate, "AJ," back up your charge, possum. Send us, for example, Micah's yearbook picture. Let us see the Goth proto-Demi Moore in all her teenaged, prom picture glory. Otherwise, all that's fake is this kind of accusation. You know where to find us.

First Reaction: 'Cue the Violins for the Last of the Fauxhawkians

“Two puns in one headline? Isn’t that a little much?” asked Miss XaXa.

We stared at our nails. Yes, it’s true, possums, our favorite martial-arts-practicing, slogan-teeshirt-wearing, magazine-editing lesbian, Sandee Birdsong, was, in the lexicon of the game, pykagged last night.

“Besides,” Miss XaXa continued, “it isn’t even true. She’s not the last one with a fauxhawk; there’s still Dale.”

But of course. Who could forget Dale Levitski? Well, apparently, just about everyone. As we said to Miss XaXa, “If he were a superhero, he’d be the Invisible Gay.” He was hardly to be seen in this episode, but perhaps that’s just as well, as attention seemed to be an unwelcome thing last night.

The Quickfire Challenge—to use Florida citrus—was judged by Chef Norman Van Aken, who, fittingly enough, was the very definition of “acid,” and perhaps also “florid.” Micah, who is not a morning person (though Lord, is she ever a mourning person), made it into a bottom three with a dish of baby spew, er, pardon us, “avocado soup,” along with torch-wielding petal-pusher Sandee, and confused, carapaced, veiny shrimp Sarah Nguyen (really, though, we’re not the ones calling her a shrimp; it was CJ, who envied her for being 5’3”). And it was CJ who, despite spilling his citrusy seed upon the dish, was in the top three, along with Hung and Tre. Ultimately, it was Hung, huffin’ and puffin’ his way to villainy, who came out on top and earned immunity, if not camp status.

The Elimination Challenge was to cook “upscale barbecue” for Lee Schrager, founder of the South Beach Wine & Food Festival and, according to the South Florida Business Journal, the spokesman for “Southern Wine & Spirits, the nation’s largest alcohol distributor.” No wonder he has access to champagne and, by extension, women, as Hung admiringly points out. (We reiterate: you don’t have to be gay to be a Gay Villain. And really, how convincing was Hung anyway?)

Which brings us to our main problem with the upscale barbecue: where was the upscale? 14 small grills on a strip of mangy lawn by a canal does not upscale make. As Tom Colicchio himself put it, which is the greater sin, no barbecue or not upscale?

This question, along with other, more pressing ones, will be answered in a proper episode recap coming this weekend.