Life without Top Chef

The dark hour is upon us.

This season’s Top Chef is over.

I’ll miss you, Padma, with your sad, beatific eyes. (Pack my knives and go? Yes, ma’am! I am your puppet.)

I’ll miss you, dear, puffy Tom Colicchio. (You put the bitchin’ in the kitchen, my brother. Why give constructive criticism when you can just cast a nasty, dismissive glance?)

And I’ll miss you, Gail, with your…wait. Never mind. I won’t miss Gail.

Last night, I had to give props to the judges for recognizing that Marcel’s third course was just as good—in fact better—without the Kona Kampachi. (Check out the recipe here.) Finally, they gave a vegetarian dish some respect.

Yep, I love Top Chef with a fervor usually reserved for HBO. Or at least Showtime.

So now what? Top Design?

I dunno. I watched the premiere with a heart full of hope. Then I heard Todd Oldham’s speaking voice. It seems there’s a game show on Nickelodeon missing a host. And Miss Kentucky 1987 would like her foundation back, pronto. Orange is not your color, Todd.

But enough cattiness. I’ve got lot’s to be happy about. First and foremost, reservations at Canteen this Saturday. I promise to keep you posted.


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