Previews: After Tackling Gay Marriage Last Week, Top Chef Tackles the Issue of Gays (Including Seemingly Angry Lesbians) in the Military

Next week’s episode, entitled “Nature vs. Nurture,” will take on the issue of gay adoptions by allowing certain cheftestants to “adopt” another cheftestant’s Elimination Challenge dish, with the judges determining whether the results are “confused” or whether the seasoning is “well-adjusted.” Rosie O’Donnell will be the guest judge.

The following week’s episode, entitled “Three’s a Crowd-Pleaser,” takes up gay monogamy. Cheftestants will cook in teams of two, with some having the option of “opening” up their team to another cheftestant from a past season. Watch the fun as a past season cheftestant bonds with a current season cheftestant and the two put the remaining original teammate up for elimination. Eric “McSteamy” Dane and Rebecca Gayheart will be the special guest judges.  (Our onset spy related that Padma and Rebecca would constantly sneak away during filming, and when they returned to film the tasting scenes, they consumed all the food on the table, as well as the camera plates.)

Unpacking the Story of a Much-Needed Lobe-otomy

Well, possums, it was quite a night for Mexican food in the world of Top Chef.

On the plus side, un gringo bien chingón, Rick Bayless, won Top Chef Masters with his rendition of the Oaxacan black mole. (We’ll savor the victory for a few days before ungratefully discussing just how patronizing the franchise’s attitude to Mexican food seems to be.)

But before that, we had to suffer through an Allison Anders film, or perhaps the sequel to Quinceañera, in which tattooed chola Jennifer Zavala trotted out the cheapest and oldest of stereotypes—ay Dios mío, in the name of Lupe Vélez, I am such a Mexican spitfire—and further debased it by attempting to illustrate it with, of all things, a chile relleno.

Yes, mija, because when one thinks of spicy and fiery, it is of chiles rellenos that one thinks. As if.

Of course, she was doomed from the beginning. From the moment we saw her obscenely distended earlobes and the chest and neck tattoos (is she really “scarred” or just “scared” and saddled with a tattoo artist who can’t spell?), we had a squirming, exasperated, bourgeois reaction. This is the best representative of Mexican food the producers could find?

Matters weren’t helped by her prescient refusal to unpack her suitcase: “I’m not unpacking anything. I’m, like, very superstitious. I feel like it’s bad luck.”

Oh, how conveniently stereotypical, possum, but that’s not superstition; that’s low self-esteem. And look what happened—you got kicked off anyway, even though you didn’t unpack. So there you go; you can let go of that “superstition” now. Unless you did unpack. Well, didja?

As an extra narrative kick, we got the photo and story of her blue-eyed, güero kid whom she had intended for Harvard or Yale, which made her turn on Top Chef “not so much an opportunity; it’s more of a have-to.”

Well, Bravo, we hope you feel great for having kicked her off. Now, thanks to you, that kid is not going to Yale. And all we got was Stand and Deliver Bad Chiles Rellenos.

Will Even the Lesbians Succumb to His Charms? Fabio Viviani to Guest Wednesday on “The Ellen DeGeneres Show”

Well, they have a similar fashion sense, so perhaps it will work out.

From the guest listings on the show's website:

CHEF FABIO VIVIANI: Everybody can’t stop talking about him! He was just eliminated from Bravo’s “Top Chef,” but a lot of people thought he was going to win it all! (Me included!) He’s an amazing chef and has a personality to match! The show’s finale airs tonight and it’s down to Carla, Hosea and Stefan!! After Fabio gives a cooking demonstration, I’m gonna try to get him to spill who becomes Top Chef!

Theeza eeza tha feerst estep for Fabio televeezhon domeenazhon.

And what's this, from a Bravo Q&A?: "Hopes are that America likes me a lot because you will see me again, very soon, Italian-style."

Possums, we have an exclusive preview of Fabio's new television show:

The Fabio Viviani Exit Interview Roundup, Part 1: He Hates Cilantro, Likes In-N-Out (Animal Style!), Is a Good Lover, and His Mother Isn’t Dying

People Magazine:

You talked about your mom being sick. How is she doing?
The show is kind of exaggerated a little bit. My mom is not dying. She has a problem that she cannot move her hand. Her body produced too much calcium and the bone in the wrist is calcifying. It can’t be cured. Every six months she needs to have a surgery or else she’ll be completely paralyzed. It’s an expensive and stressful thing. But she’s hanging in there.

Is she proud of how far you got in the competition?
You know what? She doesn’t even know what’s going on. She know I’m on the show, but it’s hard to realize your son is on national TV because in Italy we don’t have these things. In Italy, if you are going on TV, it’s because you killed a whole family somewhere or you robbed a bank. So it doesn’t really happen that you are on national TV for something good. My mom, she was very happy. She told me she saw me on Google. And I told her, “Mom. I’m not on Google. Google is a search engine.”

….

Name one food you cannot stand.
Cilantro. I hate it from the deepest of my heart. And if one day if I’ll be filthy rich. I’m going to buy 20 acres, I’ll grow cilantro, and then I’m going to fly over with a combat airplane and drop an “m” bomb on the field and blow the whole thing up.

Pick your favorite fast-food restaurant.
In-N-Out is pretty good. “Animal style.” No pickle. I hate pickle too.

********
Grub Street

So you have a cookbook deal?
Yes, I have a cookbook that is coming out in April, a food and mixology book. One of my colleagues at the restaurant is a great mixologist. It will be at Wal-Mart, it will be everywhere. And what it talks about is how to do easy, stress-free Italian food, pairing with martini instead of wine.

….

You said you needed the prize money to take care of your mother. Is she going to be okay without this money?
The fact of my mom has been a little bit misunderstood. She’s not dying, she has this problem in her hand. She’s very young, she’s 47, and she has this problem [with] the bone and the cartilage in her wrist, they’re falling apart because there’s something wrong with her blood. She’s not going to die, but she had to quit the job that she was doing. I support my family every month.

A lot of viewers think you’re “the cute one.” What makes you cute?
I think an accent does its good part. And then, you know, my mom is telling me all the time that I’m the cutest person ever, so I guess my mom is right.

….

Do chefs make good lovers?
Chefs make great lovers, 'cause if you don’t please them while you’re having sex, you please them while you’re making dinner. I please them in both cases.

********
Endless Simmer

And Padma?
You know, she was speaking straight-forward Italian to me. She started in Italy as a model, she was on this TV show there, so I was actually looking at Padma way before she was tasting my food. She has a great palate. She’s a model, not a chef, but she’s very personable and we had a good time together. She’s very fun.

Were you worried about coming off as an Italian cliche?
Well you’ll have to tell me what an Italian cliche is. I left Italy because there were too many Italians, so it’s nice to be one of the few here. I think I represented my country well. Look, I’ve only been speaking English for 2 1/2 years. I had to rent the last season of Top Chef on DVD because on TV I couldn’t understand what they were saying. [Amuse-Biatch Editor's Note: This is a little odd to us, since, as far as we know, Top Chef isn't actually available on DVD.]

….

What are you up to now?
I’m getting a lot of offers, being asked to do TV shows, license my image on a line of cooking products, so all kinds of things. I hope you liked my face, because unfortunately, you’re going to be seeing a lot of it.

Another TV show! Tell us more.
Aaah, I can’t say yet, but let me just say - Watch What Happens.

Seriously. The Fauxhawk? Really?
I’m a chef, and chefs are a little like rock stars. Every summertime for the first day of summer, I dye my hair blond. Blond-blond, like Pamela Anderson blond. And then when the blond is gone I get the fauxhawk. I like to change things up. I know the pink scarf, fauxhawk thing is not really American masculine, but I’m Italian, so I don’t give a damn.

Fabio Viviani: Danny Gagnon Is So Messy That I'd Rather Live with a Pig

Well, possums, we can't say we're surprised by Fabio's statement to the L.A. Times. Not a bit surprised, in fact. We shudder just to think of it.

Fabio also announces that his restaurant is "doing 40% more business than it did in 2007" (which seems better than when he told Bravo last week that "[i]n the last 6 months of 2008 [his] restaurant did over a 38% more in profit respect to the last 6 months of 2007").

Our favorite exchange includes a bit of nationalism and a declaration that signorino Viviani is in the pink:

Right. [Stefan Richter is] also not the only cocky one.
Amore, you have to understand that chefs are like rock stars. I’m like that too! The difference is that I’m Italian. I’m personable because I'm Italian. If I was American, it’d be different. You'd think the same way about me. Look, when I left Italy to move here, I had to sell my three restaurants to do it. If I was not confident I couldn’t have done that. You have to be confident in this business.

Why’d you get a Mohawk?
I change my hair cut every other day. I’m very extravagant in certain things. I never have matching socks. Chefs are like rock stars. They have to do something to wow and create buzz. It’s not good hair to have in the U.S. but quite frankly I don’t care. I got my pink scarf, pink socks, pink shoes...

Finally, he offered further confirmation that the boob tube will not be long without him: "I'm going be everywhere. For sure a little more TV. We have something in the making."

Amuse-Biatch Photoessay: Say Hello to Our Leetle Frend

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

First There Was Topo Gigio, Then Roberto Benigni, and Now Fabio Viviani: Gesticulating with Fabio!!

In which we weekly devote ourselves to the impossible task of culling the best gesticulations of the most extravagant Italian import since Roberto Benigni and Topo Gigio:

Carmela Soprano Does New Jersey Proud

Breaking News: Fabio Viviani Cleared of All Accusations of False Modesty; No Verdict Yet on Charge of False Advertising

For what it’s worth, possums, we think he is but a mere pony in comparison with the real stallion, Il Colicchio.

Which, we suppose, makes Rocco DiSpirito a gelding.

Non Odiarlo Perch’È Bello e lo Sa: Fabio Viviani Beefcake Photos of the Week

Possums, don’t hate him because he’s beautiful and knows it. Just enjoy the bistecca fiorentina.

Amuse-Biatch Weekly Photoessay: Gesticulating with Fabio!!

Join us, possums, as we celebrate the joy of self-perpetuating stereotypes. We present our new weekly feature (well, until Fabio is eliminated; long may he reign), Gesticolando col Fabio!!

Amuse-Biatch Photoessay: Fabio Viviani, Who “Love Hot Dog,” Asks Eugene Villiatora to Demonstrate “How Make Hot Dog”

Short, Baby-Faced Asian Feels Need to Compensate for Self-Hatred by Citing Fear of Cannibalism, Becoming Raging Asshole, Doing Douchey Dance Moves

Poor, poor, poor Dale Talde.

You see, possums, he feels that life, unfair bitch that she is, has saddled him with many disadvantages: "I'm Asian, not the tallest dude in the world and I look like I'm 12."

Add to that the fact that, as Miss XaXa once put it, Dale suffers from "a case of gayface so pronounced that it might as well appear in a medical textbook," and you really have to pity the poor chap. You might even begin to understand the whiff of self-hatred.

So how does he compensate?

Well, look at the testimonials:

"I work w/Dale from Buddakan and he is one of the the rudest, most evil people I have ever worked w/. To date, 4 servers have quit b/c of him, and he has made countless others break down in tears...."

"Dale is the definition of brilliant talent who's totally nuts. I have never worked w a more temperamental chef, and finally had enough of his moods that I walked out mid-shift. Anyone know why brilliance in the restaurant world is so often coupled with crazy and mean?"

He himself says, "I have no off button."

And yet, we must confess ourselves a little disappointed. All we've seen are the gayer-than-gay surly lip-pursings and belt-buckle grabs that would get him "read" or laid, depending on the kind of gay bar it is, and, of course, the douchier-than-douchey dance moves during the opening credits of Top Chef, which, if there is a God, Dale will never live down.

Well, it's true that there have also been a few bleeps, and a little garnishing of bear droppings with pecorino and blame. But that's not much to go on.

Would the self-hating, overcompensating, gayfaced, raging asshole please step forward?

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.

The 12 Days of Bitchmas -- Day Two: More Memoirs of a Gaysian?

Possums, it really is our fault.

Given our day job, we ought to have parsed the language more carefully before surrendering to despair.

The bit from AfterElton.com that caused all the gnashing of veneers says that “there are no openly gay men on this season….” (emphasis added). But of course!

Indeed, once Miss XaXa had a proper look at the picture of cheftestant Dale Talde that Bravo posted on its website, in which he exhibits a case of gayface so pronounced that it might as well appear in a medical textbook, she turned on one Louboutin heel and said, “Mmm-hmmm!”

Then, taking our hand and talking gently to us, as if we were a dimwitted child, she said, “His name is Dale. He’s from Chicago. Do the math.”

Then, on Eater.com, we found postings in which Dale Talde is described as “rude,” “evil,” “brilliant,” “temperamental,” “mean,” and “totally nuts.”

Ladies, gentlemen and possums, we have a winner.

And last season we were proven right about Hung Huynh in this respect, so you never know.

Still, isn’t it a tad lazy on Bravo’s part to give us another potentially Gaysian villain in the kitchen? If the judges or other contestants start talking about how Dale’s cooking is technically accomplished but lacks soul, we’re going to call for somebody to be given the Chinese water torture.

Oh, and confidential to Dale: Possum, we would be angry with Bravo not just for the gayface pic--and the belt buckle thing; remember this picture of Gaysian Top Design contestant Goil Amornvivat? Coincidence?--but also for this line in your profile: “A motto that drives Dale is ‘expect perfection ,[sic] because if you fall short your [sic] left with greatness.”

On second thought, by your logic, that sentence isn’t perfect, so it must be great.

First Reaction: Cuisine de Grand-mère and Not So Grand Mair

Well, possums, as anyone who's ever seen The Triplets of Belleville will tell you, having a French grandmother can make all the difference of the world. One must never underestimate Mamie dearest.

And Casey Thompson's Mamie certainly came through for her, inspiring Casey's chicken dish, even if the name (and the pronunciation, ouch!) were a bit of a coq-up. And even though tough old birds* faulted her for not using a tough old bird, we don't fall in that camp. As some of you may have discovered at some point in your lives, possums, coq is occasionally difficult to come by, no matter how much vin is involved.

But you know, there is one thing that gave us pause and made us uneasy, namely, the condemnation by all and sundry of Hung Huynh as being a technical wizard but lacking soul. Perhaps we just have sensitive noses, but we detected the whiff of (perhaps unconscious?) racial stereotypes of Asians as emotionless automatons. We thought immediately of an article by classical music critic Alex Ross that we read in The New Yorker in April:

In the classical-music world of ten or fifteen years ago, you heard intermittent murmurs of unease about the number of Asian performers who were showing up on the rolls of conservatories, in the ranks of orchestras, and on concert stages. The oft-repeated criticism was that these players showed great technical dexterity but lacked the mysteries of “depth” and “soul.” Such talk had an unsavory taste....

As does the talk about Hung lacking "heart" and "soul." Well, he is bisexual, so undoubtedly the heartless part is correct. But the rest of it does smack of something unattractive, even if it's not sinister. It's a way of dismissing those who are better than you: what I do may be a mess, but at least it's got heart. "Heart," whatever the schmaltzy term means, seems to be of paramount importance in our country. Emotional truth trumps all else, and cannot be questioned. Laziness, idiocy, lack of skill, and lack of competence can all be forgiven and covered up with "heart," with "gut instinct," which is why we're asked to elect the candidate we'd most like to have a beer with, and to "trust" our leaders, especially when they have "gut instincts" and can look into the "hearts" of Russian tyrants.

But we digress, possums, and we'd better stop ranting before we find ourselves unwittingly quoting Ayn Rand, who is not our cup of tea (though she is a good deal of camp fun, especially the movie adaptation she wrote of The Fountainhead, starring Patricia Neal and Gary Cooper, a phallic pneumatic drill, Miss Neal's pneumatic breasts, and a beautiful and no doubt unintended homoerotic subtextual love affair between Gary Cooper and Raymond Massey).

*We kid, possums. We have the utmost respect for André Soltner and the rest of the FCI panel. Just read David Kamp’s The United States of Arugula to get a sense of the watershed importance of Soltner’s restaurant, Lutèce.

All We Don't Need Is Love: The Gospel According to Gail Simmons

Goodness, possums, it seems there was a new episode of Top Chef last night. Can you believe it?

This reality-television anabasis has been dragging on for so long that we very nearly forgot.

We look upon October 3 as soldiers look upon the end date of their tour of duty.

Although this season may not actually be longer than last season (we can't be bothered to check the dates to confirm), it certainly feels that way. It's not that the season is terrible--it isn't, and in many ways it's an improvement on last season. And yet there's nonetheless something bland and undercooked at the core.

Thank goodness for sleek, glossy-lipped, feline-eyed, vixenish General Simmons, who in her report to Congress--er, blog--puts her finger on one of the major problems:

I too must remind myself on occasion that most challenges are not meant to be team efforts, are not meant to prove your ability to play nice. They are meant to be competitive, to test each chef’s skill and speed. It drove us crazy at times how lovey-dovey the cast could be and how easily they forgot that, at the end of the day, there is only room for one winner. But not Hung. In this instance especially, I applaud his choice to keep his secrets to himself, even if it meant frustrating the others. He worked hard to execute that dish well and it paid off with a win.

Exactly, Miss Gail. It nearly drove us crazy, too.

And you know what, possums? We still don't understand what the other cheftestants were doing sitting around the table trying collectively to gather tips on how to make the classic Le Cirque dish (and we were nearly driven out of our minds by hearing everyone pronounce it "Le Sirk"; Douglas Sirk and Le Cirque are both fabulous, but one thing they're not is homonyms). The bottom line is--it's not cool to try to copy the smart Asian kid's homework, and we, for one, are glad that he metaphorically leaned over his desk and covered his paper. Gong Li would be proud.

Puerto Rico Mourns Murder of “National” Dish by Original Chino Latino; Not “Every Puerto Rican [Makes] Lousy Chicken,” Sings Governor Acevedo Vilá

Talk about bad P.R., possums.

And we mean P.R. as in the good ole Commonwealth of Puerto Rico, self-proclaimed Isle of Enchantment, “island of tropical breezes” where “always the pineapples [are] growing” and “the coffee blossoms blowing,” and “the sunlight streaming,” and “the natives steaming.”

And after last night’s episode of Top Chef, the Puerto Rican people have something else to get them steamed. As one eyewitness said on the show, “He killed it, he killed it!”

By “he,” she meant Hung “Más Puerto Rican Than Thou” Huynh, and by “it,” she meant arroz con pollo (chicken and rice), more or less the “national” dish of Puerto Rico (we use scare quotes because the boricuas are particularly touchy about the political status of their island “estado libre asociado,” and we haven’t the energy or the death-wish at present to tackle the question of whether you must be a nation before you can have a national dish).

We learnt last night that Hung lived in Puerto Rico for a few years (who knew?) and that he spoke Spanish “somewhat” (and, in truth, his Spanish is almost better than his English, and he sounds much less of an asshole in Spanish).

It seemed perfectly logical to him, then, for the Elimination Challenge to cook arroz con pollo as his Latin dish to feed the crew of Dame Chocolate, the latest of Telemundo’s hodgepodge telenovelas (because, God knows, the crew of a telenovela must of necessity eat only Latin food).

Besides, added Hung, alluding to his Asian origin, and making sweet, sweet love to the editors in charge of Bravo Foreshadowing™, “If I can’t cook rice, I should go home.”

Of course, Mr. Chino Latino couldn’t cook rice.

And when he got called out for it by the judges, he took his usual position: Hung knows better. Dammit, he even knows better than the Puerto Ricans themselves, which gave us a nice giggle (almost as good as the giggles induced by the opening credits of Dame Chocolate).

Hung, Hung, Hung.

With all his ineffectual, unworthy-of-Gong-Li snarling and sneering, he tries ever so hard to be a shark. And yet, in the end, Hung learned the hard way that “when you’re a Jet, you stay a Jet.”

The One-L Word: In a Novell Move, Amuse-Biatch Counsels Bravo to Hire Undocumented Spellcheckers