What's Repast Is Repast, and We Shall See Her Nimma (Well, Except Perhaps on the Reunion Show)

Amuse-Biatch Shudders to Remember the Most Earth-Shattering Moment in the History of This Blog

Possums, for the past few months, we have been hiding a dark secret, a secret so traumatic that it very nearly drove us from blogging forever!!!

“Could you be more dramatic?” said Miss Xaxa.

Picture it. On account of our work—yes, possums, lilies of the field though we are, even we must toil and spin to earn our daily pain Poilâne—we were near the Los Angeles location of Tom Colicchio’s restaurant, Craft. We were in the lobby, on the cell phone, in the midst of a v. v. important call, but staring off into the distance, when all at once we saw a cloud, a host of—

Well, not daffodils. Of Top Chef, rather, for it was none other than Padma. Fucking. Lakshmi. Making straight for us.

Our mind raced and reeled. We felt like Ebiatchnezer Screwge. Was this the Ghost of Bitchmas Past or merely an undigested bit of potato?

But no, ‘twas She, clad all in black, and moving smoothly toward us like an avenging angel, a great Hindu goddess of destruction. And in that moment, the warp and woof of World Wide Web was rent and ripped, and a small frisson of the apocalypse overcame us.

“Oh, lighten up,” said Miss XaXa. “She was probably just coming back from lunch with Tom Colicchio at Craft, on her way to see a lawyer or an agent.”

But really, possums. We wondered if our rather broad brow would suddenly act like the news crawl at the bottom of the screen on CNN, broadcasting our thoughts. Did she know? Could she know? Would she know she was in the presence of half an Amuse-Biatch?

Our eyes locked but for an instant. As a creature of flesh and blood, she was more beautiful than as a pattern of pixels on a screen. Would the eyes betray us, tell her all, confess our biatchy, blogging sins? Was that the slightly resinous scent of guilt trapped in our nostrils?

“Jesus Christ!” said Miss XaXa, “Catholic much?”

But, fortunately, the only look we detected on her face was that of someone who has been recognized. Such is the price of fame. She walked past us and toward the elevator, and we were once again safe—safe to biatch, safe to blog, safe to be.

And so, possums, hey, hey, the Biatch is back.

Just in Time for Tonight's Premiere, the Flaming Finally Begins

As you may know, possums, we rather took issue with Bravo’s tagline for Top Chef, “Let the flames begin,” and not just because it was insensitive to Mrs. O’Leary’s cow and the victims of the Great Chicago Fire, but because, with nary a Gay on the show, the tagline was patently engaging in false advertising.

We told Raggaydy Andy in no uncertain terms that he’d better work, and exhorted him to “flambé, chantez.” And giving credit where credit is due, he sho’ and at long last came through.

Pressing Project Runway winner Christian Siriano into service, Andy Cohen unpacked his (rather large, perhaps overcompensatory) knife and went gay.

Click to watch the video in its entirety, but we’ll give those of you with little patience, slow computers, or scant intestinal fortitude a précis of the oh-so-precious pensées:

Siriano tells a complex story about the workings of the oil industry and politics in the Middle East, and a fat George Clooney. Sorry, possums, just a little typo there.

Having dropped “fierce” as a catchphrase, Christian tried out another worn-out old gayitude from decades past: “for days.”

Faux-lesbian Richard Blais’ fauxhawk is “last season’s ‘hawk,” but he does love Jen Biesty’s Lady-‘hawk.

Padma Lakshmi has the skin of an Italian chain restaurant much beloved by Middle Amérique for soup, salad and breadsticks for days.

The lesbian couple? “There’s gonna be, like, hot sauce everywhere.”

Uh, no disrespect to our Sapphic sistahs, but, ewwww.

Lez Is More: Amuse-Biatch Discovers Previously Unknown Fourth Lesbian Cheftestant, or Pink Triangle Becomes a Square

Possums, in the beginning, we knew there were two:












Then, our friend Dorothy (yes, as in "FOD") confirmed that there were three:











And then we heard the rat-tat-tat and the clackety-clack of Louboutins on a travertine floor. 'Twas Miss XaXa, breathlessly delivering the news that, actually, there were four:











"Uh, darling, I know you've seen The L Word, but this isn't the 'Max Factor.' That's actually Richard Blais. He's from Atlanta, he's married, to a woman, and has a child on the way."

"But--"

"Je sais, je sais, darling. He's just trying to wrest the fauxhawked, sexually ambiguous, molecular gastronomy crown from Marcel Vigneron."

"But--"

"And he's such a man. He's been going fauxhawk a fauxhawk with Jen "The Beast" Biesty, and of course, he thinks his is bigger and better. He even accuses her of stuffing a metaPhotoShopical sock down her 'hawk."

"But--"

"Yes, you're right. No wonder he prides himself on being socially awkward."

Update:

Dicky, you’re fauxhawked: Christian Siriano just pronounced your haircut “last season’s ‘hawk,” while praising Jen Biesty’s Lady-‘hawk.

Stephanie Izard: Cutter, Cutup, or Cutting Edge?

We will find out tonight, possums.

Lisa Fernandes: Canadian. Christian Siriano Fan. Self-Proclaimed Bitch. Dirty, Dirty Girl. What's Not to Like?

Really, possums, just take a look at the testimonials:

Dale Talde: “Lisa, without a doubt…[,] had the worst fucking attitude ever. She was just negative…She'd tell people when she was gassy….”

Manuel “Memo” Treviño: “Lisa [has the worst attitude this season].”

Evangelos “Spike” Mendelsohn: “I’d have to say Lisa [has the worst attitude this season]. She’s a very angry person….[She has the worst personal hygiene.] Gotta wash that bandana, you know what I mean?”

Lesbian with an attitude. Fellows that were in the mood.

To be bitchy.

Oh, wait.

Lisa Fernandes: “I’m rude. I’m a bitch.”

Well, that would seem to settle that. So imagine our surprise when we saw what she told AfterEllen.com about the experience of being on Top Chef:

“People are like, ‘Oh, you’re on a reality TV show,’ but that’s not what it is. It’s not about finding out the gossip, or putting people in stupid situations to see who sleeps with whom and who beats who up.”

Oh, possum. Clearly, you never saw Season 2. Or Season 3. Or read this blog.

Perhaps underneath the gassy, mushroom-flinging, sweaty-bandana’d surface, she’s just a nice, idealistic Canadian girl?

Padma Lakshmi Admires Colicchio’s Technical Skills, Enjoys the Taste of His “Huevos” in the Morning; Colicchio, for His Part, Likes His Pepper Peeled

That, at least, is what we gleaned, possums, from the following exchanges in that now notorious “sandwich” interview:

What one dish do you think says the most about a chef?
Tom Colicchio: So - go ahead Padma.

Padma Lakshmi: I don’t think grilled cheese is that difficult to make nor do I think eggs are very difficult to make. But I do think the way you make eggs in the morning shows a lot about your technical skills. Tom makes really great eggs, by the way.
….
So what are your food pet peeves? Everyone has one. What’s the one thing that just really - you just can’t deal with on a plate?

Padma Lakshmi: Tom doesn’t like skins on bell pepper.

“Well, well,” said Miss XaXa, “she certainly knows an awful lot about Tom, doesn’t she? Which came first, the kissin’ or the eggs? And do you think she likes them runny or sunny-side up?”

“Now, now,” we tut-tutted. “Colicchio is a married man. And as for Padma, Page Six says she’s dating billionaire Adam Dell, brother of Steve Dell, as in—”

“Dude, she’s gettin’ a Dell!”

Exactly.

We do have questions for the photographer-semioticians at Bravo, though. Could you pack any more phallic and other symbols into that publicity still? The tie at attention is a particularly nice touch. We get it—the whirlwind that is Padma knocks Tom off his feet, ruffles his nonexistent hair, and stirs and stiffens his necktie into a 45-degree angle. And who could blame him?

Amuse-Biatch Be-‘wiched, Extremely Bothered, and Definitely Bewildered as Tom Colicchio Shares Wicked ‘Wichcraft with the Antichrist

Possums, we know just how much Tom Colicchio enjoys making sandwiches with the high-profile women of the food world, but we had no idea things had dEVOOlved to this point. This definitely takes the muffaletta. And is it as a tribute to Tom's New Jersey roots that Rachael Ray decided to dress as a Mafia wife from The Sopranos? And is it us, or is Tom looking a little thinner? Oh what a diet of "sandwiches" will do! Just ask Jared.

Amuse-Biatch Heterosexual Monday: How Much Is That Tranny in the Window?

The Importance of Not Being Earnest: A Farewell to Snark

Possums, we shall not look upon her like again. She has packed her knives and gone.

We could hardly believe our eyes when we read the
announcement: The Great Keckler, whose recaps and ceramic-knife wit were legendary, and who coined the term "cheftestant," will not be recapping the new season of Top Chef for Television Without Pity.

Mes enfants, the general has left the Top Chef field. We will soldier on, of course, but the battle simply won't be the same without General Keckler, and she will be sorely missed.

"You make it sound like she's dead," said Miss XaXa.

No, no, no. She's simply gone to a better place, that's all. Namely, Jericho, which she will continue to recap for TWOP. So get on over there to continue reading her work. And remember, though she unfortunately doesn't get royalties, every time someone uses the word "cheftestant," a sous-chef gets her toque.

Thanks for the memories, K.