Ministry of Silly Talks: Amuse-Biatch Exclusive Interview with Ted Allen

As you might expect, possums, when it comes to the whole “journalism” thing, our style is more Hedda Hopper than Brenda Starr, and so, when Uncle Ted granted us an interview on the occasion of the premiere of Chopped, his new show on the Food Network, what could we do but take up our pad and our mother-of-pearl Mont Blanc, and channel Louella Parsons for all we were worth? We hope you enjoy it, possums; we will always remember the experience, since Ted Allen took our cherries…jubilee.

Amuse-Biatch: Bette, Joan or Madonna?

Ted Allen: Joan Jett.

AB: And speaking of Madonna, you once famously discussed how you would prepare and eat her pal Rupert Everett if ever you were stranded on a desert island with the Brit. If you found yourself on that proverbial island with the increasingly immaterial girl—she’s all gristle now—what cooking technique would you use to render her palatable?

TA: I’m thinking Ciccone au Vin.

AB: Do people get the munchies when they’re within 5 feet of Padma?

TA: Most people I know have the munchies for Padma. Did I ever tell you that I’ve seen her naked? True story: She was changing once during season 4 in Chicago, and, as a gentleman, I respectfully started to leave the room. And she said, “What, are you repulsed by my naked body?” So I gave her the once-over. I’ve been heterosexual ever since.

AB: You recently averred to an incredulous world that Padma Lakshmi’s job as host of Top Chef is harder than it looks. Have you gotten any tips or learned any lessons from Padma for your new gigs?

TA: Yes. If you already hear voices, it’s a bad idea to wear an earpiece. And don’t swap your flip-flops for Louboutins until the cameras are rolling.

AB: Did you know Gail Simmons was Jewish? We were thrilled to learn she was a member of the tribe.

TA: Jewish? I thought she was Canadian.

AB: As you know by now, your spot on the Top Chef judges’ panel was taken by Toby Young. Was it flattering that they couldn’t find anyone fresh, local and sustainable to replace you and had to import someone?

TA: Absolutely.

AB: What does it say when they have to get a Brit to replace a Gay?

TA: What’s the difference?

AB: Toby Young—you could take him, right? (In a fight, we mean.)

TA: We’re both far too polite to hit a guy with glasses.

AB: Has Carson Kressley ever made clothes for your Emmy statue?

TA: No, but Thom [Filicia] uses his as a toilet-paper holder at his lake house. The roll fits perfectly on her wings.

Chopped, Food Network, Tuesdays at 10 p.m. (Clip below courtesy of Food Network)

Virginia Woolf and Padma Lakshmi Be Damned, Uncle Ted Allen Finally Gets a Judges’ Table of His Own

Possums, the first thing you have to know is that, whatever else people who have not seen the show may say, Chopped, the Ted Allen-hosted cooking-competition show premiering tonight at 10 p.m. on Food Network, is not, we repeat, not a “Top Chef rip-off.”

As Uncle Ted himself put it, on Chopped, “[t]here is no sleep deprivation, no ‘Big Brother’ house full of bunk beds and cameras, no booze-fueled personal drama (as much as we all love the brainwashing and catfights on that certain show I used to judge).”

Or, as Miss XaXa put it, with Chopped you get no nuts.

That’s not to say there aren’t any fireworks. As Uncle Ted told us yesterday during a presser, “There is a lot of drama, [and] buckets of tears come out, [but] all the drama comes from the cooking.”

That’s right—Chopped is a straightforward cooking competition. Each self-contained episode features four young chefs and sous-chefs, mostly from the New York area, in a one-time competition for a $10,000 prize. The contestants have 30 minutes to prepare an entrée that must include all the ingredients in a mystery basket. The entrée is judged by a panel of chefs and the least favorite is, you guessed it, chopped. The remaining three contestants then prepare a main dish using yet another mystery basket of ingredients, and again the judges’ least favorite is chopped. The final two contestants prepare dessert with a third mystery basket of ingredients, the loser is chopped, and the winner gets the dough. Easy as pie, n’est-ce pas?

That’s it, which means that, unlike on Top Chef, “[t]here are no team or catering challenges. Best of all, there is no product placement, so you never see passionate lovers of good food being forced to use packaged convenience junk thanks to Kraft/ Altria/ Exxon’s sponsorship.”

(We loved seeing Uncle Ted playfully but deservedly nibble on the well-manicured but grubby hand that occasionally fed him.)

Sad as we are that we no longer get to see him on Top Chef (and that we were consequently saddled with Toby Young), we are, of course, delighted that Uncle Ted now has his very own show. Instead of merely being a guest at Tom and Padma’s table, the table is all his now. We were intrigued by a little move he gets to do on Chopped, removing a silvery cloche dish cover. During the presser, we asked him whether, as a gay man, he felt he had done it better than a straight host might have (we wouldn’t advise Tyler Florence to try the giveaway move). Uncle Ted conceded that one might perform the move in countless ways—“You could just pick it up like you’re picking up a cat, or with a flourish like a bullfighter with a cape”—but in the end he copped, not immodestly, to “extraordinary élan” in raising that cloche.

We encourage you to savor his extraordinary élan as Food Network raises the cloche on Chopped, tonight at 10 p.m.

(We are working on an exclusive interview with Uncle Ted, which we will bring to you forthwith, in which he discusses, among other things, seeing Padma Lakshmi naked. Miss XaXa, not to be outdone, replied, “Oh please. Everyone’s seen her naked. Practically every Monday on this blog.”)

Ted Allen to Lisa Fernandes: Editing Is the Real Bitch; Lisa Fernandes (Not to Ted Allen): I’m Not Your Bitch, Bitch

Possums, we’re rather tickled to have stumbled upon this little clip, in which Lisa Fernandes plays television host at the Garden Party celebrating the 25th anniversary of the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual & Transgender Community Center of New York City. She’s personable, she’s charming, she makes a lesbian joke, and fittingly enough, professes her love for the “I’m not your bitch, bitch” catchphrase. She also catches up with Raggaydy Andy Cohen and Season 4 guest judges April Bloomfield, Johny Iuzzini and Ted Allen.

Ted commiserates with her, telling her, “Editing is a bitch,” which Miss XaXa says is the most house-music-worthy declaration since “Rhythm is a dancer.” And most interestingly, Ted tells us in no uncertain terms that he feels he is “a pawn in the hands of [Bravo’s] editors,” and that he is glad to be working on his new Food Detectives show, where he won’t be subject to such editing.

What's On? Elementary, My Dears

A reminder, possums, that Uncle Ted Allen's new show, Food Detectives, officially premieres tonight on Food Network at 9 p.m.

Report from the Trencher

On Saturday night, Miss XaXa, much like Marie Antoinette, girded her loins, stepped into her peep-toe Mary Janes, and headed for The Chopping Block. Fortunately, possums, she lived to tell us all about it.

The Chopping Block played host to a Top Chef cook-off between Season 3’s Dale Levitski and Season 2’s Josie Smith-Malave, with Ted Allen as a judge and Nick Verreos of Project Runway as master of ceremonies (Joel Grey has nothing on him). The cook-off was a fundraiser for a charity that is near and dear to our hearts, the Gender Public Advocacy Coalition, an organization devoted to ensuring that classrooms and workplaces are safe for people who don’t conform to gender type—and so that middle school boys don’t get murdered by their classmates.

Uncle Ted was impossibly svelte—wait, this man is a food critic?—and looked as though he’d just come from the spa. Uncle Nick had flawless skin—in fact, as Miss XaXa put it, “Bitch [the highest compliment we can pay] had the best skin of any man I’ve seen.” She suspects it’s that unbeatable genetic combo of Greek and Venezuelan ancestry, but we’re convinced there has to be more and want to know the name of the brujo who does his limpias, or the location of the pool where he does laps in Crème de la Mer. Josie was, as Miss XaXa, related, “a blast! Television did not do that woman justice.” As for Dale, you know all too well, possums, that we campaigned and lobbied for Dale as fan favorite, and dammit, he wuz robbed. We’re looking forward to trying his restaurant when it opens in Chicago, and for the record, he’s even brawnier and hunkier in the very solid flesh. As you can see from the pictures, a very good time indeed was had by all, and the entire evening was GenderPACked with fun.

Ted Allen and Miss XaXa Do Their Best to Mock Lindsay Lohan and Vanessa Minnillo

Miss XaXa Marks Her Man

A special thanks from Miss XaXa to Mark (pictured above with Ted Allen) for his chivalry and solicitude at the GenderPAC cook-off. Like many another blossom of the South created in the hothouse imagination of gay men, Miss XaXa has been known to depend on the kindness of strangers. Mark proved very kind indeed, squiring Miss XaXa around the reception and serving as her paparazzo. Smooches, Mark!

Amuse-Biatch Heterosexual Monday: Monica Bellucci Demonstrates the Best Way to Serve Caviar

Ted Allen: “I’ll Cut You, Biatch!”

Our Miss XaXa cleaves to the ever-delightful Uncle Ted Allen at last night's Gender Public Advocacy Coalition event at the Chopping Block in Chicago. Details and loads more photographs to come.

Judges Ask for Scratch Paper and Show All Their Work

From Zagat Buzz:

“…picking a winner sure wasn’t easy, Ted Allen told the Buzz at the James Beard Foundation awards. ‘This year, for the first time when we chose the winner, Tom [Colicchio] suggested as a part of making the decision we do some numerical models. It did help.’”

Very interesting, possums, n’est-ce pas? It suggests that the outcome was very close indeed, and that 30 Rock itself came very close to being dismantled brick by brick by angry Bravo viewers.

“You’ve won the fucking bronze medal. Congratulations. There you go.”

Poor Richard. We really do feel sorry for him, and sorry that the above-quoted statement came back to haunt him thus. Miss XaXa believed from the very beginning that Stephanie would win ("I told you so, I told you so" has been ringing in our ears for a few hours now), but in our opinion, the title of Top Chef was Richard's to lose. And yet, as he so courageously admitted, he choked, and he choked up. Most choke-making of all is this detail from judge Ted Allen's blog:

The day after the finale shoot, waiting with [partner] Barry [Rice] for our flight, I saw Richard wandering alone through the airport in Puerto Rico. He looked dazed. And I felt so sorry for him. He was, of course, ever gracious to everyone after the battle, putting on a brave face with cast and judges alike for post-show drinks in Old San Juan (at 6 a.m., no less), congratulating Stephanie with complete sincerity, thanking the producers. But at the airport, in the clear light of day, it was obvious that the finality was hitting him. Nobody fights that hard for second place.

Or, in this case, third. Hélas!

The 12 Days of Bitchmas -- Day Nine: Ted Allen: Lucky Bitch, “Rice” Queen, Master Bear Baiter? Plus, Tom Colicchio’s ‘Wichful Thinking

Possums, one of the things we are looking forward to in the new season of Top Chef is the return of judge Ted Allen, a glitter-bespattered, cannibal gayrdian angel to this blog (and pictured here with his boyfriend, Barry Rice). (Ted, possum, we had no idea he looked like that; who can blame you for being a Rice queen?)

However, we have not posted this photo merely to publicize our very gay flouting of the Tenth Commandment (“Thou shalt not covet… thy neighbor’s [ahem] wife, nor his [ahem] manservant,… nor his [ahem] ass…” Exodus 20:17).

No, possums. We have posted this photo as Exhibit A to prove that, notwithstanding his protestations of ignorance, Ted Allen is a bear chaser.

The admittedly farfetched importance of this fact will become apparent all too quickly.

(Oh, and by the by, possums, does Barry Rice remind you of any other shaven-headed, barrel-chested, fortyish man with a penchant for dark suits and unbuttoned shirts?)

What with his being our cannibal gayrdian angel, we took umbrage on Ted’s behalf when we read this interview with Tom Colicchio. When asked, “Who is the most enjoyable judge to have sort of by your side at the judging table?” Tom replied, “I’m always more comfortable when Gail [Simmons] is on my left. I mean, she’s not a guest. I know I didn’t answer the question. But that’s when I’m most comfortable.”

Alright, fair enough. But then, when asked, “Will Ted [Allen] and Gail [Simmons] ever be at the judging table at the same time?” Tom replied, “I think the world of both of them. I just - I like it when Gail is on my left and Padma [Lakshmi] is on my right. It’s a nice little sandwich I have going there.”

Ah, Tom, spoken like the creator of sandwich shop ‘wichcraft. But if that sandwich has a name, it is surely ‘Wichful Thinking. (A Gail-Padma sandwich wouldn’t even need meat; the Cubans, after all, refer to lesbian sex as a “pan con pan” (bread with bread). Not every midnight (medianoche) has to have a pickle.).

But back to our umbrage. Tom, Tom, Tom, we didn’t think it possible, but is there just the teeniest implication that you’re uncomfortable when Ted is sitting at your left? Is there a soupçon of gay panic in the rhetorical mayonnaise that binds that sandwich? Or have we completely lost our minds and given in to our most conspiratorial urges? Wait, don’t answer that.

Tom, just because Ted is a bear chaser and you look like his boyfriend doesn’t mean he’s going to cop a feel. There’ll be no wire hangers and no soap-dropping at the judges’ table. Fear not.

And anyway, Tom, why won’t you be one of Teddy’s bears? Is it because Teddy once said he’d “like to see you cooking in stilettos and a teddy?” Or is it because Ted once publicly declined to eat you? And what, pray tell, is wrong with a Manwich? After all, even with Gail and Padma, a sandwich is a sandwich, but a Manwich is a meal.

The 12 Days of Bitchmas -- Day Three: Mrs. O’Leary’s Cow to Lodge Complaint Against Bravo for Insensitivity, Ignorance of History

"Let the Flames Begin...Chicago"?!?

We were shocked, possums, shocked.

Someone at Bravo obviously didn't do well in American history at school.

"But wait," said Miss XaXa, "maybe Bravo is just relying on the American public's historical illiteracy?"

Well, we had to admit she had us there.

Alright, Bravo, we'll let you off. But we still think an apology is due to Chicagoan judge Ted Allen and, of course, to Mrs. O'Leary's cow.

Ted Allen Loves Poussin, Hates Bush

These are just two of the revelations in the latest edition of Ted Allen's Bravo blog. After being raked over the coals for making a crack about conservatives on last week's blog, Ted lets it be known that "most of [his] relatives voted for Mr. 'Mission Accomplished,' and some of them don’t even regret it yet." Must be a sticky situation.

Speaking of which, Ted also reveals that the people who make Right Guard anti-perspirant were thrilled to have gotten around Bravo's impenetrable sponsorship wall for a free on-air plug (no doubt Pier 1 Imports is a little unhappy about being an anonymous fling):

"[T]wo days ago, what should arrive on my doorstep in Brooklyn? A year’s supply of the stuff [Right Guard], dispatched via messenger by the grateful (if cheesy) PR people who handle the brand. They also sent it to Brian, I’m told (who, in fairness, smelled perfectly nice)."

And speaking of Strong stuff, Ted mentions that, though he likes last week's undercover blogger, Andrea Strong, and thinks "she’s smart and cool," he "found her awfully sarcastic, a little too eager to tear people down with good (but show-offy) writerly chops."

This in turn reminds us of our favorite unremarked moment in last week's episode--Padma Lakshmi's kindness to Andrea, who complains this week that Bravo's viewers were harsh to her, so much so that she "had to stop reading the comments," finding it "a huge bummer to read the comments on the Bravo blog and how many people just hate [her] and think [she is] a hack...."

So what was Padma's act of kindness? Well, Andrea commented on how The Garage's black tablecloths were "very Billy Idol," and, as she says on her blog, The Strong Buzz, she has "no interest in dining off of Billy Idol." Padma kindly corrected it and removed the offending "of" after "off" when she read it on the air, albeit in a slightly different form, "Who wants to eat off Billy Idol?" It may not be the equivalent of helping an old lady across the street, but it was a kindness nonetheless, and we appreciated it.

TedIlan: Reality Without Pity

Great unholy Doppelgängers, possums!

Last season, the great Keckler of Television Without Pity nicknamed Ilan Hall "TedIlan" for his resemblance to, you guessed it, Ted Allen.

However, no one has ever really had any trouble telling the two apart. Or so we thought.

Imagine our surprise when we came across a report about Ted Allen attending the birthday party of Manhattan club impresario Noah Tepperberg. The "article" breathlessly reported that "[e]ven reality TV was in attendance and stopped for the flashbulbs as a handful of America's Next Top Model contestants and Ted Allen from Top Chef paraded by."

Ted Allen a fame-whore who consorts with Tyra's castoffs? Hardly seemed likely.

Imagine our relief, and our repulsion on Ted Allen's behalf, when the photographs revealed that it was Ilan Hall that the "reporter" was talking about. Ilan Hall a fame-whore who consorts with Tyra's castoffs? Totally believable. But oh the indignity of having all the photos captioned "Ted Allen."

So what else is Ilan doing with his time and adjudged Top Chef title? According to one person on Marcel Vigneron's MySpace page:

I was in Whole Foods, on the Lower East Side, in Manhattan where I live and Ilan was there, and he knocked over a whole sample tray, it flew in the air and cause a spectacle! It was really funny!

But surely impressive feats such as attending nightclub impresarios' birthday parties and knocking over sample trays at Whole Foods don't take up all of Ilan's time?

No, indeed. He also celebrates family birthdays, as faithful Amuse-Biatch reader Jessica related to us in what we hope will inaugurate a "Biatch on the Street" feature, where you, possums, our huddled masses yearning to be snarky, send in your sightings of cheftestants and judges alike.

Jessica writes:

My boyfriend Tim and I were in New York City for vacation..., and, being the rabid Top Chef fans that we are, we chose to spend some serious dough on a dinner at Craftsteak in the hopes of, if not catching a glimpse of Tom Colicchio, at least tasting his food...While exiting the restaurant, [Ilan Hall] and his party stopped to speak to some of the restaurant employees who were stationed behind us...We shook hands and Ilan sat down for the photo. He seemed enormously pleased to have been recognized and to be treated like a celebrity. [You don't say!--Ed.] We posed for the camera, he jokingly asked to share some of our table's complimentary paté, and then he had to be off to celebrate his sister's birthday...As for the sides of Ilan's head,...they were shaved into a kind of striped pattern. Horizontal lines - maybe two or three of them on each side....

“Teddy” Allen Offers Apocalyptic Yet Strangely Titillating Vision to the Burly Gay Men of America

Possums, let it never be said that Ted Allen's Queer Eye is any less gimlet for being on Top Chef.

Following up on last week's controversy over whether it was sexist for Sara Nguyen and Casey "Beaver Boots" Thompson (hey, that's what she calls herself on her MySpace profile) to cook in low-cut tops and high heels, Ted tries in this week's blog to take a gander at what might just be good for the gander:

And, while I would love to see Tom cooking in stilettos and a teddy as much as the next guy, it’s not likely to happen -- at least, not on television. He’d lose all his cred with the “bear” community...

Not so fast, Mr. Allen. As we said last season, it's always the leather bears who have doilies at home, so Tom as a "teddy" bear would probably not lose him any woof cred.

However, if what you are looking for is a scenario that would level the playing field in terms of objectification, cooking, and habiliments, we have a perfect solution: Tom Colicchio cooking steaks in a leather codpiece and chaps. That would be sure to make him uncomfortable, retain his credibility with the burly gay men of America, and yet constitute a cogent critique of sexism. You might just want to drop it in Raggaydy Andy's suggestion box.

DiSpirito DiSses Cuban Buns

Possums, who says Anthony Bourdain's the only chef who likes to live on the edge?

Sure, travelling to Third World countries and feasting on entrails and snake-venom soup and whatever other delicacies are supposed to testify to one's omnivorous machismo carry certain dangers. But in our humble, yet knowledgeable, opinion, nothing Bourdain has ever done compares in sheer death-wish lunacy to what Rocco DiSpirito pulled only yesterday: dissing the Cubans and their food.

We had planned a little screed on the subject ourselves, right around the time of the "Latin Food" challenge--a harrumphing exploration of what factors, including racism and exoticism, make particular cuisines trendy, and of the fallacy of the concept of "Latin" food, putting arepas and chimichurri in their rightful place, revealing what other Latin Americans think of the Cubans and the Argentinians (hint: not good), citing Mario Vargas Llosa, Ugly Betty, Richard Condon, Diana Kennedy, and Shakira, and containing verbal red rags such as, "Garlic pork and fried plantains do not a cuisine make"--but cooler, less foolhardy, heads prevailed. Miss XaXa reminded us that we couldn't go and risk having our throat slit with a Buena Vista Social Club CD since we hadn't even made out a will. And so we kept silent.

Rocco DiSpirito, however, must have received better estate planning advice, if this bit from his blog is anything to go by:

Howie, true to his Miami roots, suggested Cubanos. Everyone thought a Cubano was a great idea. Is it? Never been to Cuba so I may not know any better, but I haven’t had that many good Cuban sandwiches in Miami or anywhere else. The Cubano might just be the most overrated sandwich on the planet. A great sandwich is a pastrami on rye from Katz’s Deli or a prosciutto mozzarella panino from St Ambroeus. I chuckled when one of the late night revelers complained about the bread being the wrong kind. Since when is Cuban bread the stuff that legends are made of? Cuban cigars? Yes. Cuban coffee? Of course. But not the bread. Lets not celebrate the bread.

Well, possums, as we said, Rocco posted this yesterday. By now, we suspect, his body must have been found, a Cuban roll stuffed in his rather fetching little mouth. Tragic, really, after all the promise Bourdain said he possessed.

What may be Rocco's final blog entry ever also contained other valuable insights and revelations, including the fact that Rocco has watched Sex and the City and that he thinks "white stretch Hummer limo[s]" are tacky. Finally, he has some parting words for Bourdain:

Tony how are we so different? After more than 20 years behind the stove you left the restaurant business--so did I. You author and sell (admittedly much better written) books--so do I. You’re on TV--so am I. You write blogs--so do I. You speak your mind and have dedicated your life to entertaining people and so do I.

I was stunned when I read your comments comparing me to Eric Clapton. I am grateful and didn’t know you felt that way about me, but I am still confused. Now it’s my virtuosity behind the stove that makes me such a loser? Don’t you see--it’s as absurd for you to insist I open a restaurant as it is for me to ask you to do the same. It’s not that I refuse to open a restaurant (who knows given the right situation), I just don’t need to cook at a 40-seater in a bad neighborhood to become the sunshine of your love again. You can enjoy my cooking anytime, no reservations.

"No reservations"? Aw, snap.

On a completely unrelated matter, Ted Allen was sporting a tee shirt from the New York gastropub The Spotted Pig on last week's episode, and this week Rocco has posted a picture of himself in a Spotted Pig shirt on his blog. Oinkydink?

Ted Allen: Accountants Can Be Bigger Bitches Than Fame

Well, possums, it seems that Hung Huynh might just be right. CPA does indeed stand for "Certified Professional Asshole," as New York Magazine reveals in outtakes from the interviews for its cover story on Bravo reality shows.

Our favorite gay cannibal, Ted Allen, discusses the underside of sudden fame as one of a quintet of America's Most Palatable Homosexuals, including the experience of being condescended to by number-crunchers:

"The most annoying, condescending thing that friends, fans, journalists, and people from my previous life would do," he remembered, "is tap me on the shoulder and say, 'Enjoy the ride.' As if the five of us weren't completely aware that fame can be a fleeting thing. It was like, fuck you. Enjoy the ride being an accountant."

Ted, possum, we hereby volunteer to act as your bodyguards, administering Britney-worthy beatdowns and blistering, Arthur-Andersen-referencing putdowns to any accountants who come within ten feet of you. Sadly, though, as Miss XaXa points out, we don't think there'll be much call for our services now that Sarbanes-Oxley is keeping the accountants off the streets. Still, if you need our services, holla.

Tom Colicchio Forced to Bear the Male Gays; Andrew Sullivan and Laura Mulvey to Be Held Accountable

Well, possums, as no doubt he's been often told, Andrew Sullivan has a lot to answer for.

The National Post, a Canadian newspaper, makes the self-described bear and "conservative" gay columnist responsible for giving bears "an aura of credibility and ma[king] them feel a little less marginal." (Heck, we'll even go so far as to blame him for the appearance of bear porn on Conan O'Brien.)

And last week's edition of "Watch What Happens" certainly proves the increasingly mainstream aspect of being a bear, as a visibly mortified Tom Colicchio was informed by a viewer from Guerneville, California--though we can hardly believe it was the first time--that he is "an icon in the bear community."

(This is the equivalent of being told by a resident of Amsterdam that you are an icon of legalized pot and prostitution; in other words, they know from bears in Guerneville.) Not that we're surprised; we've been calling Tom Colicchio a bear for a long time.

There was knowing laughter in the studio after the question, and no laughter more knowing than that of Ilan Hall. So Ilan knows the definition of a heretofore marginalized segment of the gay community? Well, color us and Lalalina gobsmacked.

Despite showing umpteen inches' worth of Tom Selleck-lite chest hair, and despite being the New York-resident, Sarah Jessica Parker-befriendin', Hairspray-watchin', Madonna-lovin', Diana Ross-worshippin', Kathy Griffin-greenlightin' cheerleader of the gayest network on television, Bravo VP Raggaydy Andy Cohen, sporting an expression that said, "Bear? Qu'est-ce que c'est?" turned it over to Ted Allen, much as President Bush might turn to dominatrix-boot-wearing Condolezzie Rice and say, "Hey, Condi, this here question's about Eye-ran and nukular disarmament, so why dontcha take it."

Ted Allen's natural modesty and low-key charm gave way almost to maiden-aunt frisson in his role as Secretary of State the Obvious, as in "My understanding of the bear community, which is extremely limited." Goodness gracious, as if one might call him Goldilocks if his understanding of bears were anything but extremely limited. Why so afraid of the bears, Bravo queer guys? Your honeypots are undoubtedly safe.

Ted did go on to define bears as "gay men who appreciate…muscular, strong, really masculine, burly men. So apparently, the burly gay men of America find you delicious, Tom." (Just one thing: except for the burly part--gay men being by and large horribly vicious body fascists--Ted's definition would seem to make every gay man in America, and Hung Huynh, a bear.)

Judging by Tom's giggly, uncomfortable reaction, maybe Colicchio's the bear they're all afraid of. We found it particularly delicious, if that's the term, that on a show so heavily based on objectifying Padma Lakshmi, the male gaze should have turned the tables and its red-hot rays on Colicchio himself. Is it any wonder Tom was voted the sexiest judge by the viewers, beating both Padma and that Tit-anic Iceberg, Gail Simmons? (That's not meant as a slam against Gail; we are huge fans of buxom women with a touch of frost.) In other words, the audience for Top Chef must include an awful lot of women and gays.

Now, let's flesh out, as it were, Ted Allen's definition. The Los Angeles Times defines bears as "burly guys who identify with a masculine style and who shun the popular image of homosexual guys as smooth, hairless, Calvin-Klein-ish blond young men," and records the Linnaean ingenuity of the homosexualist when it comes to men:

"Thin bears are called 'otters.' Younger guys are 'cubs,' East Asian guys are 'panda bears,' and gray-haired gents are 'polar bears.' For aficionados of the bear physique, the ideal male body is that of Tony Soprano (especially in the show's recent seasons, when the mob boss puts on weight)."

The National Post adds that: "A Wolf is simply a more aggressive version of an Otter. As for a Chaser, he's a guy who definitely isn't a Bear, but loves Bears."

And so with that handy taxonomy in our back pocket, let us take a look at Top Chef.

Why, the set of "Watch What Happens" was o'errun with bears. In addition to daddy bear Tom, there were Big Gay Dave from Season 1, aka Peroxide Bear, Cry-Bear, or Care(Too Much) Bear, and Michael "Beer Bong" Midgley ("Bear Bong"?) from Season 2. Ilan and Raggaydy Andy (Jews with chest hair! Who knew?) could at least qualify as otters.

Season 3 has Joey Paulino aka Joey Pickles the Eyetalian Tantrum-Throwing Bear™, Howie Kleinberg (Sweaty Bear), and Dale Levitski (he of the tantalizingly shiver-inducing "caveman hands," who claims not to have gotten the gay shopping gene). And let's not forget Norman Van Aken.

Season 2 had Frank Terzoli (originally dubbed the Bambino Bear), an older model of the Eyetalian Tantrum-Throwing Bear™ (discontinued after it threatened to beat a Cabbage Patch Doll so severely that its own mother wouldn't recognize the resulting slaw), as well as Bear Bong, Cliff Crooks (whom we dubbed Valrhona Bear oh-so-long-ago), and Lychee Bear Otto Borsich, a gentle breed. In terms of judges, just off the top of our heads, we remember Lee Hefter, Raphael Lunetta, Wylie Dufresne, and Ming Tsai.

So, you see, possums, we think we've made our point. Bravo is Lipton, and train wrecks, and bears, oh my!

Allora, Tommy, just accept the fact that you're a great, big hunk of bear meat. And don't worry. After all, like lobster, bear meat is supposed to be very low in cholesterol.

Ilan Hall Falls into Thom Browne Fool's Daze

Possums, we'll get into the substance (ha!) and smarm of what Ilan Hall said at a later time. For now, we just wanted to utter our best Munchian scream at what Ilan Hall is wearing. (For the moment, ignore the lanky, morally challenged, surly diabetic lesbian sitting to his left. Oh, that's Sam Talbot, you say? And you say he's straight? And you say that there's absolutely no symbolic content to a prime Clippergate participant getting a buzz cut? Ok, we'll take your word for it.)

Never mind showing up in a tuxedo at 8:30 a.m., which is when this reunion was shot. What we deplore is, first, the terrible fit and too-short pant-legs on the tuxedo. We are tempted to blame the gay, prissy, tyrannical, obsessive-compulsive men's designer du jour, Thom Browne (take that, Tom Ford), who is known for just this sort of look. It's certainly a low point in highwater pants.

More disturbing is the lack of socks. We've been meaning for ages to write a post about socklessness and foot fetishism on these Bravo shows, but our brain cells rebel at the thought. Suffice it to remember the stink over Jonathan Adler's stockingless feet on Top Design, Tom Colicchio's sockless appearance on Top Design as well, Raggaydy Andy's live online sock striptease for a fetishist in New Mexico, Colicchio's continued sockless (even barefoot) jaunts in the Season 3 promotional campaign, together with barefoot Ted Allen, and a barefoot Padma Lakshmi kicking up water. Something is definitely afoot.