10-Year-Old Tom Colicchio Had More Balls Than Any of the Contestants on This Season of “Top Chef”

So sayeth the colicky Colicchio himself, on his Bravo blog:

“I’m going to try my best not to sound testy. As you’ve also just watched the episode though, I’m sure you won’t fault me if I do…. Watching the episode, I was amazed to hear mutterings of ‘I’m not a pastry chef’ and ‘I’m not a grill chef.’… I was at my family’s swim club one summer day when I was approximately 10 years old, and after a day of swimming I found myself good and hungry. My father had brought along several club steaks, and had heated the grill but not yet cooked the steaks. I couldn’t wait. I popped one on the grill and, when it seemed adequately cooked, I popped it back off and ate a bite…. I came out of my reverie to face an angry family: I’d singlehandedly cooked and eaten all the steaks…. I guess I discovered grilling…. I was 10, and it never occurred to me to shy away from the task because ‘I wasn’t a grill chef.’”

So, possums, bears do meow, and how.

In Fond Memory of Richard Sweeney: “Don’t forget to suck the head; it’s where the best part is”

Amuse-Biatch Photoessay: I Kissed a Girl and I Didn't Like It

Top Chef: Masters and Margaritaville

Possums, it is with the sanity of bloggers as with Roquefort cheese—it’s a goodly spell in a nice, dark cave that does the trick.

In our case, you have only to imagine the salutary effects of 90-odd (and 90 odd) days with nary a thought about His Bearness or, um, Her Highness. Week upon glorious week neither knowing nor caring about Padma’s apartment, her burger commercial, or her wearing of silk charmeuse without a bra on noticeably cold nights at public events.

Day upon day unfolding without ever having to hear the phrase “throw under the bus,” or ponder the ominous portent of scallops, or come up with ursine metaphors, or decipher the semiotics of fauxhawks and t-shirts obviously chosen to attract attention.

Night upon night of sleep undisturbed by dark dreams of Bravo conspiracies bearing the suffix “-gate.” Rien de rien, possums.

By the end, we had very nearly returned to our customary, half-human state.

And then it occurred.

Suckling at the teat of cable television one afternoon, we landed on an oh-so-alliterative Food Network show titled Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives, hosted by preposterously peroxided putz Guy Fieri. Normally, we are as allergic to him as he is to long trousers and intellectual depth. Indeed, chez Amuse-Biatch the show is referred to as Douchebag, Dipshit, and Dumbass. This time, though, we cocked our head and said aloud to ourselves, “You know, he’s kind of charming.”

The Patsy Stone-like scream from Miss XaXa was blood-curdling. We cannot say whether it was “No, Eddie, nooooo!” or “No, Charlus, nooooo!” we heard before we lost consciousness. It was not sal volatile or booze that brought us round, but, rather, Miss XaXa’s perfectly manicured nails digging into our neck as she dragged us by the scruff to where our laptop lay in desuetude. “That’s it!” she kept saying, “Vacation over! It’s time!”

So, yes, possums, we are back to the venom, vim, and vitriol of the internet, and we will be blogging the bejeezus out of Top Chef: Masters. The show premieres Wednesday, June 10, at 10 p.m.

Seeing How the Sausage Is Made

And there’s a lot of gristle in that sausage, possums, if the above is any indication. We came upon that on Television Without Pity, where poster SisterOfSylar said the tidbits came from a friend with access to inside information.

We have, of course, no way of knowing whether any of these tidbits are true, but if they are, they help to make sense of other events.

For example, during many of his post-win interviews, Hosea Rosenberg oddly discusses how demoralized he was after his make-out session with Leah Cohen, which doesn’t make a lot of sense. Earlier, we theorized that remorse on the part of Leah and Hosea was not necessarily the result of their consciences needling them, but, rather, “a product of discovery, a realization that their encounter would be televised, and would have consequences.” And if Il Colicchio did indeed have to do a finger-wagging chat with the two lovebirds, it makes this theory of ours all the more plausible. And it’s easy the stress from a fruitless attempt to convince editors not to show the make-out footage.

In any case, very interesting, possums, very.

(Click on the picture to enlarge it and read the details of Scott Conant-Fabio-Colicchio Italian-offs, Colicchio-sick-making food, and avuncular ursine scoldings.)

“Top Chef” Shocker! The Untold Story of On-Set Ursine Cannibalism!

There are times, possums, when we cannot see the bear for the fur.

Come to think of it, there are also times when we can’t see a darn thing at all because our eyeballs are so riveted by the Gail Simmons poitrine. (And yes, we feel very guilty indeed to be constantly objectifying such an intelligent and accomplished woman, but what can we do, other than to ask Christian Bale’s stepmother to indulge and forgive us?)

At any rate, this was one such occasion of blindness, and, as is so often the case, it took another woman to open our eyes, none other than our beloved Ms. Dorothy Snarker, the eagle-eyed, martini-wielding hostess of the All-Gals-In Pink-Triangular Table:



Watching the video above, we had not been able to see past les bazooms de Gail, and we had missed the most important thing of all, which La Snarker brought to our attention and provided photographic evidence for: Ursus Major Tom Colicchio eats bears!

We have not been so shocked since learning—spoiler alert!—that Soylent Green is people. Oh Tom Colicchio, how could you?

“There’s always room for Gummi Bears,” you say, a phrase that is sure to haunt the dreams of cubs across America. Perhaps a turn as spokesman for Gummi Bears is in order once the Diet Coke campaign is done? (Come to think of it, isn’t it fitting that Colicchio’s shilling for Diet Coke and choice of Hosea Rosenberg as Top Chef should have come at roughly the same time? After all, as Miss XaXa put, Hosea is the Diet Coke of Top Chefs—bland, a poor substitute for the real thing, and leaves a bad taste in your mouth.)

Talk of the Hootie Nation: Carla Hall Speaks to the Adoring Masses

Miss Carla was a guest on National Public Radio's show, Talk of the Nation, where she reveals that even her family thought she was being too nice, and defends Tom Colicchio from charges of insincerity.

Bear Baiting: A Defensive Tom Colicchio Says He’d Give Hosea the Win All Over Again

Well, possums, if there’s one thing we learnt from reading National Geographic and watching Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom as a child, it is that you must never, ever, ever attack a bear, for bears wax exceedingly wroth and their wrath is fearsome to behold.

How much more true, then, is this for the Ursus Major himself.

In response to the firestorm that has erupted on the Internet over Hosea Rosenberg’s being awarded the title of “Top Chef,” Tom Colicchio called People Magazine—exclusively!—to give the irate a piece of his mind:

“If I had to do it all over again, reading what I’m reading, I’d still say Hosea wins. He made a better meal….We don’t care about personalities. We don’t care about who was making out. We simply care about who put together a better meal from start to finish.”

First of all, the teddy doth protest too much. As mentioned in this video, he does care who was hooking up with whom. But that’s an unimportant point.

This is the bit that is interesting to us:

Plus, he adds, the judges only consider the output from that night’s challenge – never relying on past performances or outside factors.

“I come to Judges’ Table with an idea of who I think should win based on what the challenge was – not based on who I think the best chef is,” he says.

We find it curious because on his Bravo blog, Toby Young has a quibble with that “never”:

I asked Tom at the outset whether the same rule applied to judging the finale as it did to all the other challenges, namely, that we had to disregard everything the chefs had done before and judge them entirely on their performance that day. He said it did, but with one caveat: if we whittled the finalists down to two, and there was nothing to choose between them, we could bring in their past performances as a tie-breaker.

As far as I was concerned, that was exactly the situation in last night’s episode — and, for that reason, we ought to give it to Stefan, who clearly performed better over the course of the season than Hosea. My argument went like this: Stefan and Hosea tied the appetizer and the first course; Stefan won the second; and Hosea won the third. So that was one win each, deadlock.

It’s a frightening day in our little corner of the Snarkshire Moors when we find ourselves thinking that Toby Young makes a cogent, lucid, persuasive argument, but end times appear to be upon us.

But take a look at Tom’s statement again. It seems implicitly to concede that he doesn’t think Hosea is the best chef, and that is the most revealing thing of all. That, we suspect, is what lies at the heart of the “popular revolt” on the blogosphere, a very American sense that the principles of meritocracy have been violated, and that the winner, no matter what the title says, is most decidedly not Top Chef.

Even Tom Colicchio Wants to Know If Leah and Hosea “Hooked Up”; He’s Betting on Fabio for Fan Favorite, and Liked “Slumdog Millionaire”

Commander’s Palace Owner Loves Fabio, Gets Into “Squabble” with Tom Colicchio Over Machismo and Desserts

That's what Ti Martin, the lady herself, divulged in her blog:

I ended up sitting near Fabio – a past contestant. He is a dynamic character and sweet all at once. Across from me was Toby Young – hysterical – pithy. I was glad he wasn’t judging our food....

It was one of the longest 3 course meals I’ve ever experienced but it was a great crowd and a pleasure to be in the company of industry experts. Tom and I did get in a bit of a squabble when I suggested that perhaps “machoism” is to blame for the lack of concentration male chefs put on dessert. He pointed out that one of the contestants tried a dessert and it fell flat (literally – it was a soufflé that didn’t rise) – but at least she tried. We’ll agree to disagree but I’d say that was about as heated as the conversation got.

And if you want to get advice on how to evade an alligator if you're being chased by one, watch Ms. Martin tell you here.

She Shills by the Sea Shore: Padma Lakshmi Makes Her Bid at Paris Hilton-dom

Let’s see, possums. The same week that Tom Colicchio was revealed as a shill for Diet Coke, and the same night that Padma Lakshmi referred to Stefan Richter’s dessert as “pedestrian at best” (at which point we half expected a lightning bolt of irony to drop casually from Zeus’ hand and smite her), good ole Pads was herself revealed as the newest shill for Carl’s Jr., following in the stiletto-wearing footsteps of Paris Hilton.



According to People Magazine, Padma claims the television ad, directed by the same cinematic “genius” who did the Paris Hilton carwash ad, is “a beautiful love song to food….I think eating in itself is the act of great sensuality, so all you have to do is point the camera in the right direction.”

Pedestrian indeed. And what could possibly make Padma so hungry all the time?

Hootie Nation Weeps as Carla Hall’s Rise Deflated by “No”-fflé, Voodoo Double Curse

What was meant to be a blue cheese soufflé curdled into a “no”-fflé, and likewise our sense and reason have curdled into a bubbling, grief-studded, superstitious inquiry into why some things fail to rise. (And no, we’re not taking “egg whites and a too-hot oven” as an answer.)

After tossing and turning our voices-filled head on our tinfoil pillow, having nightmares of Hosea Rosenberg and Tom Colicchio holding up cans of Diet Coke and those little gold homunculi from the king cakes, an answer came to us.

It was nothing less than a voodoo double curse (though, of course, the producers tried to throw us off the scent by showing us a voodoo lady so incompetent that she suggested Jamie Lauren might yet be Stefan Richter’s girlfriend; mind you, if voodoo ladies have the power to turn lesbians into straight girls, then Jerry Falwell and Fred Phelps are going to be in a sticky bind).

Much as it pains us, since we genuinely like Casey “Beaver Boots” Thompson, we have no choice but to pronounce her the first voodoo curse of this finale. And it isn’t as if this is a new idea. Back in August of 2007, during Season 3, we had already dubbed her the “Typhoid Mary” of Top Chef, since everyone who became friendly with her was immediately eliminated from the competition.

And as for the second voodoo curse, well, we learnt yesterday that Carla once cooked for Dick Cheney. Need we say more?

With this kind of bad magic, Hootie never stood a chance.

Just for the Tastelessness of It: Colicchio Spot Features Padma Stand-In, Betrays Diet Dr. Pepper, Gets In Dig at Grant Achatz and His Ilk

So When Is Fabio’s TV Show Premiering?

That Fabio Viviani is getting his very own show seems as much an open secret as it does a teleological necessity (television was invented so that Fabio could go on it). On his blog, Tom Colicchio says,

Fabio was very gracious in defeat, though, and I will share with you that the following morning, I had a chance to spend a little time with Fabio, and I learned that he has a lot of exciting developments happening professionally. This is a man who by the age of thirty had run and sold several successful restaurants in Italy, come to the U.S. and created great opportunity for himself. Without spilling the beans prematurely, I'll say only that we all have not heard the last from Fabio …

Sure sounds like television to us. Indeed, during his exit interview, after recounting a De Sican childhood of little money, child labor and cardboard shoes, Fabio himself says, “I have offer for new tv show.”

So, will it be Bravo, Food Network, or KTLA?

Why Can’t They Ever Be This Natural on “Top Chef”?

Tom Colicchio Refuses to Give Us a Watered Down Version of “Say Bitchay”

Possums, we just hate it when others are bitchier than we; it makes us feel like we’re not living up to our name. But when Tom Colicchio does it, it doesn’t bother us at all, especially when it seems he is reading our mind:

The only thing I didn't like about this challenge was the voting power invested in the young culinary students, who, I'm afraid, tended to vote personality over palate….Also -- Top Chef All-Stars? It might be a stretch to say so: Some didn't make it more than half-way through their season's competition. Andrea was eliminated not once but twice, and not one of the members of the “All-Star” team made it to their season's finale....

Exactly, possums. Still, who knew bears could meow?

Tom Colicchio Doesn’t Want Anyone Choking On It

As Buddy Cole might have said, Put that man in tights!

Yes, indeed, possums, the old Ursus Major himself is being hailed as a hero after performing the Heimlich maneuver on cookbook author Joan Nathan, saving the doyenne of Jewish food in America from an ignominious death.

When the incident occurred, Ms. Nathan was hosting a fundraising dinner party organized by Alice Waters and the sex-crazed wife of “smooth-shouldered” novelist Michael Chabon. This time, though, it was the chicken doing the choking—at least until Colicchio got his “strong” ursine paws on it.

Ms. Nathan, who took a good Heimliching and kept on ticking, told The New York Post, “All of a sudden [Colicchio] got to me and the chicken shot out.” Oh, bubbeleh, he has that effect on a lot of people.

(And kudos to the Rupert Murdoch-owned Post for trying to make a political thing of the near-death experience of the woman who wrote Jewish Cooking in America, The Flavor of Jerusalem, and The Foods of Israel Today: “The culprit was a Persian chicken kebob prepared by Iranian cuisine master Najmieh Batmanglij.”)

Rather than focusing on the crackpot political undercurrents of skewered chicken, we concentrated instead on the visuals in our head. Let’s see. The Heimlich maneuver, to the best of our recollection, involves, um, taking a person from behind, and administering, um, “abdominal thrusts.” Do we have that right, possums?

Well, in that case, business ought to be very good for Colicchio’s flagship restaurant Craft, as all the gay bears and chasers will be flocking there in hopes of, um, choking, or at the very least asking for a hero sandwich. After all, as Ms. Nathan put it, “He’s so strong!”

Hell Hath No Fury Like a Sacrificial Lamb

Well, possums, we cannot lie. We and Martha Stewart are delighted, albeit for different reasons, to see Ariane Duarte go. We were enchanted by the symmetry of the whole thing. Lamb was the first thing she cooked on the show, and also the last, but this time around, the rascal lamb did not redeem her.

As the Mitford sisters would have put it, we roared when, at Judges’ Table, an audibly exasperated Tom Colicchio said, “She doesn’t know how to butcher leg of lamb; what is she doing here?”

Uh, Tom, funny you should ask that. It seems to us that what she’s doing there is gathering wins and accolades from you, and being symptomatic of a season with a lower talent quotient. Y'all chose her; you should know.

Ariane broke down the lamb, yes, but she also broke down. Have a look at her exit interview, the good bits of which we’ve transcribed for you.

“Leah was not a good team player, and neither is Hosea. He’s a wimp. He’s crying, he’s nervous, nervous, nervous when we’re waiting to go to Judges’ Table, with his tail between his legs…I don’t hold grudges, life’s too short, and that’s how I left ‘em. And you know what? What goes around comes around.

Leah is a young girl [contemptuous laugh]. She’s a party girl, she likes to have a good time, she likes to be the center of attention. She can cook, no doubt about it. She’s never wowed me. And she’s got a lot of growing up to do.”

“Um,” Miss XaXa interrupted, “isn’t that the pot calling the kettle…”

“More like mutton addressing lamb.”

Amuse-Biatch “Absolutely Fabiolous” Photoessay: Tom Colicchio’s Hands Reveal He’s Been Spending Too Much Time Around Fabio Viviani

Colicchio Plans to Take It Easy in '09