Cape Fear: The Bachelor Finale recap

Every day from now on is going to be like this. . . .just kidding

Well, that was disorienting, huh?

Let’s face it, The Bachelor finale is all about suspension of disbelief. We know that the odds of the winning couple actually walking down the aisle are basically akin to the odds of being mauled by a polar bear and a regular bear on the same day (to quoth the e-trade baby) (And if loving the e-trade baby is wrong, I don’t want to be right).

And yet. . . we go with it.

We wonder: Who’s he going to pick? Who’s he going to pick? We wait for the first glimpse of leg to come poking out of the limo—ahhhh, I see the edge of Lindzzzi’s emerald velvet cape! We mourn for the poor rejected finalist.

And then, when the Bachelor gets down on one knee—all excited and hopeful and tremulous-of-voice and teary—we cry right along with him and his happy bride-to-be. Because we’re suckers like that.

But how to respond to Ben proposing to Courtney?

For one thing, we all knew it was coming.

If Chris Harrison’s none-so-subtle: “The most controversial season finale of The Bachelor evah” last week wasn’t enough, the giant cover story in Us Magazine: “Caught Cheating! Three Girls in One Weekend”—about Ben supposedly cheating on fiancée Courtney—certainly did the trick. (These days, the check-out aisle at Safeway needs to come with a giant spoiler alert.)

Then, of course, there’s the pesky fact that we all know that Courtney is the she-devil—albeit, one who has recently acquired the ability to approximate human behavior. (Speaking of which, how much did you want to high five the girls on last week’s “Women Tell All” special, when Courtney broke down in tears and apologized and they just stared back at her with a “Can you believe this crazy bitch?” look of amazement on their faces.)

So here’s what we know going in:
1. Ben proposed to Courtney

2. She be crazy

3. He’s already cheated on her (allegedly!)

4. They’ve already broken up (kind of)

Who says fairy tales don’t come true?

So, forgive me if I fast forwarded my way through most of the Bachelor finale to get to the “After the Rose” special, where shit really went down.

But let me share a few stream-of-consciousness thoughts on the (completely unnecessary) show itself.

Could Ben’s mom and his sister look any more like him? They are basically Ben in drag. It doesn’t help that Ben’s mom has his exact same fetching little page boy, only hers is dyed blonde. (And later, Ben is seen sporting a marled yarn sweater that could only have come from the “Aspen Collection” at Chico’s, so apparently he and his mom share more than just hair.)

At first I thought Julia (big sis) was some kind of Miss Cleo when she asked, “Was there a girl that was more dramatic that the other girls didn’t like?” but then I realized that she was just stating a foregone truth, sort of like when a psychic blows your mind by surmising that you “wish you had more free time” and “sometimes feel underappreciated at work.”

So Ben’s sister and mom meet Lindzzzi first and Lindzzzi is very nervous and keeps dropping silverware, which is probably why Ben dumps her.

They like Lindzzzi very much and agree with Ben that she “lights up a room.”  (That’s Ben’s tagline for Lindzzi and he’s sticking with it.)

(Random aside: Did you notice that the producers felt compelled to put a fondue pot on every available surface? This was just to make sure that we know for certain that they’re in Switzerland.)

Next, they meet Courtney. At first they don’t like her, but somehow she manages to win them over with her grace (?), natural charm (?) and warmth (?).

“She’s a really amazing girl,” Julia says. “I’m blown away.

I do think she would fit really well into the family.”

I know, you guys. I’m as surprised as you are.

Date day:

Do you ever notice that the producers of The Bachelor always make the couple walk up to each other from a distance? So there’s always that awkward moment where you don’t know how long to lock eyes, when to say hi,  if you should do a goofy wave, or perhaps a goofy dance, or run toward each other with your arms extended? On The Bachelor, as in life, the long-distance walk greeting is rough.

Anyway, in keeping with the “we won’t just break Lindzzi’s heart we will f*ck with her as much as possible” theme of the show, Courtney gets to go strolling around the quaint town with Ben—la-di-da—while Lindzzzi has to do a death-defying ski drop down the Matterhorn and be suspended mid-air in a gondola.

“I’m worn out,” she tells Ben later that night. No shit, Lindzzz. This has been less a dating show for you and more an Iron Woman competition.

Lindzzi’s date is very lovey-dovey and warm, whereas Courtney’s date is beset with awkward moments and tense confrontations and if I wasn’t completely spoiled, I may’ve actually been fooled.

Also, Courtney takes a page out of Blakely’s book and gives Ben a photo album of their love, leading me to wonder “who’d she have to blow to get those show photos?” (I kid, I kid.)

So it's proposal day and everyone wears their traditional Renaissance proposal cape and carries a giant turkey drumstick.

Moments after this photo was taken, Lindzzi was shot by an exotic game hunter

As always, it’s painful to watch Lindzzi’s face as Ben breaks up with her. It goes through stages:

1. Confident and jubilant

2. Doubt creeping in

3. Dread creeping in

4. False optimism brought on by Ben’s kind words

5. Return of crippling doubt

6. Abject despair

Aaaand. . .scene.

Oh well, Lindzz. Remember, it could’ve been worse. He could’ve said: “Welcome to No-Proposal-Ville, population you.”

Ring shiny. Me propose now.

Now it’s Courtney’s turn. She’s confident and here’s her (faulty) reasoning: “I’m a good person and good things happen to good people.” (Riiiiight.)

She hands Chris Harrison her cape (one more thing to add to his resume: Host, therapist, pimp, cape holder. . .) and heads to Ben.

And there’s not a wet eye in the house, as Ben gets down on one knee, clutches Courtney’s creepy gloved hand and proposes.

And she says yes! They’re going to live happily ever after, everyone! Or at least until the next commercial break!!

Now it’s time for Bachelor: After the Final Rose.

“You just watched Ben do what millions of viewers hoped he . . . would not do,” starts Chris Harrison. (Lolz.)

Ben comes on stage. He has grown an unfortunate little scraggly goatee.

(I understand the attempt to grow that thing. And maybe in a week or so it will fill out and look less “douchey.” But with an hour before show time, why not just look in the mirror, cut your losses, and shave the damn thing off?)

So here’s what happened with Ben. Once the show aired, he began to feel he had been played the fool by Courtney, so he retreated to a sad little Ben place where he took advantage of  his newfound celebrity and macked on a lot of women (allegedly!)

If only he had been warned! If only some of the girls had told him that Courtney was toxic! If only a red flag or two had been raised! If only he’d had any sense AT ALL that Courtney was “in it for the wrong reasons"!!! But how was he to know that he was being played? How? Nobody uttered a single word to him!!!

*Implied facepalm*

Anyway, so Ben defends those photos in Us Weekly and insists that “he did not have sexual relations with those women.”

Then Courtney comes out and is lustily booed.

How does she explain her appalling behavior on the show:
“I’ve got a little sass in me.” (That’s one “s” too many, sweetie.)

Now they are together and Courtney has her hand on Ben’s leg in very possessive way.

“Where do you guys stand?” Chris asks.

“In a good place,” Ben says, twitching a bit. “We’re engaged and we’re in a good place.”

(Don’t you just love the reaction shots from the crowd? Lots of eye rolls, “ohnoyoudi’int” head shakes and conspiratorial whispers).

They replay what can now officially be described as the world’s most awkward proposal and the crowd reacts with funereal silence.

Ben is crying. And Courtney is trying to remember how she conjured those tears last week in acting class.

“That beautiful moment has been soiled by all this,” Ben says. Soiled by what? The fact that Courtney is a sociopath and you’re a chump?

Suddenly, Chris Harrison has. . . the ring. How did he get that thing? (Host, therapist, pimp, cape holder, and ring snatcher. Impressive, Chris.)

The audience gasps. (I love this audience.)

“What do you want to do with this ring?” Chris asks.

Hock it, Ben thinks. But instead, he puts it on Courtney’s finger.

Now the audience cheers, leading me to believe that some underpaid grip is holding up a WE BEG YOU TO APPLAUD sign.

“Do you think this will end with a marriage?” Chris asks.

“I do,” Ben says. “I just don’t know when. . .”

And somewhere out there, hell just got a little colder in anticipation.

Totally Stoned: The Top Chef finale recap

Unspoilery food photo. Because otherwise people get "angry"

Is it just me, or is there is absolutely no method to the madness of who the show has chosen to compete to be sous chefs for Paul and Sarah?

There are six of the original castmembers—but not Edward, Lindsay, or lightning rod Beverly. And there are two random master chefs that we’ve never seen before (Barbara Lynch and Marco Canora). And then there’s a scattered assortment of the rejected Alamo gang, including—wait for it—legend-in-his-own-mind Tyler Stone. (Yup, the dude who couldn’t locate the tenderloin of a pig.)

Weird.

Here’s how it works. They have 45 minutes to cook and then Paul and Sarah will do a blind tasting to pick their assistants.

The dishes are laid out on the table.

Paul picks first.

He selects the dish made by Barbara Lynch. Good palate there, buddy.

Then Sarah picks Nyesha’s halibut with green lentils.

Then Paul picks Umlaut.

It’s already getting a bit awkward that Marco Canora has not been picked.

But Sarah, you see, really wants Heather. Because they’re pals and she has enormous respect for her as a human being. Also, because Heather knows how to make dessert.

But Sarah is confused. She thinks that Heather made the dumplings. But, wait, there’s a plate of scallops with a raisin citrus sauce. Isn’t that dish on Heather’s restaurant’s menu? It must be a sign, right?

“The scallops,” Sarah blurts out.

And who should step forward with a smug little grin on his face and an extra bounce in his step? You guessed it: Tyler Stone (“Stone. Tyler Stone” as he said—not jokingly—in his audition video). Oh, the humanity! (Of course, he thinks he made it because of his super awesome cooking skillz and not because Sarah outsmarted herself by trying to find Heather. Oh boy, she’s created (more of a) monster.)

Then Paul picks Malibu Chris

Marco Canora rocks nervously on the balls of his feet and smiles stiffly.

Sarah picks Heather.

Marco Canora begins to twitch.

Paul picks Keith

Marco Canora begins to scream silently.

And Sarah picks. . .Grayson.

Nuclear holocaust!!!

Quickly in damage control mode, Padma establishes that Marco will now serve as one of the judges. No hard feelings. I’m sure the shame of this won’t ruinously affect his career at all. 

(Just kidding, Marco. I’m sure you rock.)

So there are two subplots going, as the chefs begin to prepare their four-course meals for the evening.

For Paul, the subplot is: Will he defer to Barbara Lynch or hold his ground? And will she come to respect him as a head chef and team leader?

For Sarah, the subplot is: Will the selection of Stone, Tyler Stone be the death of her?

Things don’t start off promisingly, for either of them.

Barbara Lynch questions Paul’s last minute decision to buy shrimp, as it wasn’t on his menu.

“You’ve got to be confident in your game plan,” she says. (Or something to that effect.)

Stone, Tyler Stone, meanwhile is making all sorts of “helpful” suggestions, like telling Sarah she should sous vide her vegetables.

“He has some nerve,” she says.

Once they start cooking, however, Paul’s problem is quickly resolved. Game knows game, as they like to say in the sports world—and Barbara Lynch recognizes that Paul is the man. She falls into line. (And, for the record, his decision to buy shrimp actually saved him, cause the crabs got “funky” overnight.) (Personally, I like my chickens funky, but not my crabs.)

“Paul is amazing,” says Barbara. “I’m proud to have this opportunity.”

Sarah’s problem, however, is ongoing.

First, Tyler shows up in the kitchen in dress pants and shoes. (Hey, you never know if a Hollywood casting agent is watching the show, people! You can all have your bandanas and drawstring pants and comfortable shoes. Stone, Tyler Stone, is a sharp-dressed man.)

Then, his mise en place skills are mise en whack.

Seriously, I can chop celery faster than he does. And I have the knife skills of a particularly adroit monkey.

Later, he assures Sarah that he knows how to whip up a white-chocolate ganache better than she does.

“It’s going to be super smooth like me this,” he says. “You’re going to have the perfect texture.”

“Tyler is moving at his own pace, which is highly inappropriate,” Grayson says. “We’re going to jam out with our clams out and Tyler is going to do what he does.”

Yes, she actually said “jam out with our clams out” and no, I have no words.

Judging time. Tom Colicchio is wearing hipster nerd glasses, which I do believe is one of the 12 signs of the Mayan apocalypse.

Paul’s restaurant is named Qi.

Sarah’s restaurant is named Monte Verde.

So here’s how service goes:

Each one of them has a course that goes more smoothly during one round.

For Paul, it’s his “Chawanmushi,” which is sheer perfection for the first judging round (head judge: Tom), but overcooked  for the second tasting (head judge: Padma)

For Sarah, it’s her veal cheeks, crispy veal sweetbreads, and polenta.

For the first serving (Team Padma), the polenta is lumpy.

But she smoothes it out for the second group (Team Tom).

So basically, Tom lucked out with the superior version of both dishes. That’s so him.

There is also some quibbling over Paul’s congee with slow scrambled eggs and uni. (By the way, has everyone here read my love letter to uni? In short: I REALLY like uni. A lot.)

Tom thinks it’s a little bland, and not quite as revelatory as Paul’s other dishes.

Hugh Acheson thinks it’s a slam-dunk. (On principle, I’m on Team Hugh here.)

All agree that both desserts—which both featured kumquats, oddly enough—are stellar.

It’s going to be close. Very close.

There are cute moments with the fams. Paul’s dad tears up, which makes Paul tear up. One gets a sense that Paul’s dad isn’t the weepy type, so the fact that he’s crying is kind of a “big deal.”

Cuter still, Sarah’s fiancée leans in and conspiratorially whispers to her: “Check the fish. Mine had a bone in it.” I’m not sure if that’s cheating or not, but it was pretty adorable.

Final judgment time:

“In nine seasons, this is the best food we’ve seen in the finale,” Tom says. Which would be a lot more powerful if he didn’t say that every year.

“I hate white chocolate. And I thought this was the best dessert I’ve had in nine seasons,” says Padma of Sarah’s hazelnut cake with roasted white chocolate ganache.

(I only mention this because I once tried to start a Twitter war with anyone who loved white chocolate. I couldn’t find many takers. Ballsy move, Sarah. Ballsy move.)

Both Paul and Sarah make final cases for themselves. Paul talks about his newfound confidence—although form isn’t quite following content, because he’s stammering and sweating and looks like he’s about to cry.

“I’m back to being nervous Paul,” he admits. “But I really am very confident.”
Damn, you just want to pinch his cheeks, don’t you?

Sarah talks about her passion for food and being raised by a single mom.

I’m kind of at peace with either of them winning at this point.

The judges deliberate one final time.

The general consensus: Sarah took more risks, but Paul “sweated the details,” according to Tom, better.

They bring them back into the judging room.

“It was as close as it can get,” says Tom.

“Paul, you are Top Chef!” says Padma.

Hugs, confetti, tears, joy, resentment (okay, just a little—Sarah really thought she was going to win.)

And Southwest Airlines website crashes as a million Top Chef viewers across the country book a flight to Austin so they can have the chance to taste Paul’s food and pinch his cheeks for themselves.

Swiss Miss-take: The Bachelor recap

Get your shit together, ABC promo department! (Only photo available)

 

Bachelor Ben is deep in thought.

He’s got three lovely ladies, three tickets to paradise, but only two roses. It’s a painful situation for a man who is part player/part sensitive emo dude.

So we see Ben leaving the hotel, rolling his wheely luggage thoughtfully.

Then we see him alone on a plane, riding the friendly skies pensively.

Then we see him in Switzerland, sporting a vaguely Eurotrashy jacket, and wandering the cobblestone streets contemplatively.

“I’m starting to fall in love with all three of them,” Bens moans. Then he thinks, but doesn’t say: “But not really Nicki. Well, maybe Nicki—I mean, have you seen her badunkadunk? But probably not Nicki. . .”

First up: The aforementioned Nicki. The “dark horse,” Ben calls her. (Translation: Doesn’t stand a chance.)

In a shocking twist that is a complete 180 from the usual Mike Fleiss protocol, they go on a helicopter ride.

“My relationship with Nicki is getting to new heights,” Ben says. “But at the same time, it’s grounded.”

Then he adds: “She will propel me forward.”

and

“She’s one heli woman.”

and

“I’d like to ’copt-a-feel.”

The copter drops them off for a mountaintop picnic and I must say, the Alps are so gorgeous I’m beginning to wonder if the whole thing was filmed in front of a green screen in a studio in Burbank.

Then they go to a log cabin, which Nicki, like, just can’t get over.

“It’s literally a log cabin,” she says, as if they were walking into a house made of gingerbread, not wood.

Nicki starts talking about moving to San Francisco and making babies with Ben and then she says, “Just tell me if this is too much, too soon.”

“You already dropped the L-bomb,” Ben shrugs. (Note to would be lovers of the world: When the object of your affections refers to your heartfelt and emotional declaration of love “as “dropping the L-bomb” that’s rarely a good sign.)

It’s time for the first Pimp Card from Chris Harrison of the night.

Now, the bachelorettes are all undoubtedly instructed to look surprised by the offer to spend the night in the fantasy suite, but Nicki looks genuinely surprised. Maybe she forgot.

Anyway, hells yeah. She’s all for it.

Cut to the night’s first hot and heavy makeout sesh in the hot tub. But not the last. Ooooh no, not the last.

Next date: Lindzzzzi.

In keeping with this season’s “If One of Our Bachelorettes Died, We Would Totally Win the 8 PM Slot” theme, they go repelling off a cliff and into a gorge.

“In a relationship, you’ve got to be there for each other. Just like repelling off a cliff,” says Lindz.

“And might I say, you look gorge-ous,” says Ben.  (Not really.)

So they repel down the cliff, but they obviously don’t repel each other because cut to Ben and Lindz wrapped around each other in a hot tub. Yowsa that was fast. Please tell me this is a DIFFERENT hot tub from last night. (Or at the very least, please tell me they drained the water.)

“I love this woman,” Ben says. Oooh, interesting.

Then Ben and Lindzi have Ben’s favorite kind of conversation. It goes exactly like this. Every. Single. Time.

Ben: You’ve been opening up to me and I like what I see.

Lindz: I just feel like I can be vulnerable with you.

Ben: I love that you feel you can be vulnerable with me.

Lindz: I love that you love that I feel I can be vulnerable with you.

Aaaaand repeat.

Lindz tells Ben she’s falling in love with him. He grins like a school boy.

Then he’s honored that she accepts his invite to the fantasy suite.

Explains Lindz: “When you get to the point where you care so much about someone, you might as well bone them just put it all out there.”

Now, it’s Crazy Courtney time!

“I’ve had a really great week, but now it’s all about Courtney,” Ben says. (I’m sure he didn’t mean that the way it came out.)

“What continues to worry me is how she’s treated the other women,” he says.

Ya think?

   His date with Courtney involves visiting the quaint town of Wengen.

Somewhere, Lindzzzi is all: “I repelled down a fuckin’ cliff and she’s taking train rides and going on a picnic? Screw you, Fleiss.”

So Ben and Courtney discuss her tension with the ladies in the house and Courtney takes the blame and acknowledges her wrongdoing and shows seemingly genuine remorse and is basically not acting like Courtney at all.

And I feel for Ben because I know she’s full of shit, and even I’m half buying it. Poor sap doesn’t stand a chance.

“All of my concerns were laid to rest,” Ben says.

Heh-heh,  he said “laid.”

    Off to hot tub #3.

“This is hand’s down the smallest hot tub I’ve ever been in my life and I’m not complaining,” says Ben. (Oh Ben, you adorable man-whore, you.)

Do I even need to confirm that Courtney says yes to the fantasy suite? (She would say yes to a fantasy gas station restroom.)

One more thought: When Ben and Courtney get together? Their California upspeak? Drives me insane?(Just me?)

At this point, there’s so little mystery as to who Ben is going to pick, the show has to manufacture some. So they trot out poor, vulnerable, immature Kacie.

Shame on you, show.

I mean, surely they recruited her, right? Surely they said: You need answers, dammit! You deserve answers! And maybe, just maybe, once he sees you, Ben will see the error of his ways.

(Considering that the conversation ends with Kacie splayed out on the hotel hall floor in some sort of temporary paralysis brought on by despair, it’s safe to say she didn’t get the answers she was hoping for.) (To recap: he dumped her all over again and on her way out, she told him that Courtney is a skank.)

Now, Ben has more deep thinkin’ to do.

He stares out the hotel window solemnly.

Chris Harrison shows up.

“I’m just not sure what the hell’s going on anymore, buddy,” Ben says.

“Do you want Kacie in the rose ceremony?” says Chris. (Awww, Chris is so on Team Kacie.)

“No buddy,” Ben says, furrowing his brow.

Then Chris leaves Ben alone to stare thoughtfully at the photos of the final three ladies, as if he’s hoping they might come to life, Hogwarts style and tell him what to do. They don’t.

Rose ceremony.

“My heart is beating out of my chest,” Ben says to the bachelorettes. “Again. I can’t thank the three of you enough for continuing to trust in me and believe in me and have sex with me.”

He wields the first rose.

Lindzzzzi.

Then, he takes the second rose. Stands there sadly, dramatically, pretending to be torn.

“Courtney,” he finally intones.

Lindzzz hugs Nicki and then Courtney awkwardly bro-hugs Nicki, to show Ben how loving and supportive she can be to other women.

Ben walks Nicki to the limo.

“I’ve enjoyed every single moment I’ve spent with you,” he says earnestly. “I had a pit in my stomach coming out to this rose ceremony. I cried a little bit today, I’m not going to lie. I don’t know what else to say. You deserve . . . everything.

Awww. If you must get broken up with on national TV, at least let it be with Bachelor Ben.

So next week, reunion show: Boo!

But the week after that: The most controversial finale ever, says Chris Harrison.

What?!? Most controversial? That means he picks Courtney, right? Because, what’s the controversy in picking Lindzzzz?

Oh dear God, no. I need a moment.

Dude, that's cold! The Top Chef Texas recap

 

I’m not saying that the final 3 are a little dull, I’m just saying that they showed them playing a word association game in the car ride to Vancouver. (And did anyone catch the rules to this game? Steven Seagal leads to Sammy Hagar which leads to Q-Tip which leads to Barbara Bush? Was it the “washed up celebrities of the 80s” name game? Or perhaps just the “blurt out any celebrity’s name you can think of” game?)

Anyway, they go to a kitchen in Chinatown and there are three master chefs—Takashi Yagihashi, Floyd Cardoz, and my girl Anita Lo (love her for reasons I can’t quite put my finger on—she has what can best be described as an endearing logyness.)

Sarah is tearing up because apparently whenever she is encountered with master chefs, she gets weepy (also, she and Takashi are bowling buddies, or somethin).

Paul is feeling what I like to call the “Reverse Lin”—namely, there’s an extra expectation that he'll do well in this challenge because he’s Asian.

They’ll be making a tag-team dish in 40 minutes, with no communication between partners.

They draw knives:
Anita is teamed with Lindsay

Paul is teamed with Takashi

Sarah is teamed with Floyd

And away they go.

I actually love a challenge like this, precisely because of the lack of communication. The masters simply have to prep and leave some clues and hope for best. (Now if I was playing, my “clue” would be a napkin with the words “I’m making scallops 3 ways” written on it, but that’s just me.)

In the end, Sarah and Floyd achieve a perfect mind meld on their seared cod with coconut curry and win.

“I’ve won $30,000 in Canada alone,” says Sarah. “I won nothing in Texas.”

In sports we call this “peaking at the right time.” (Worked out pretty well for a little team I like to call the New York Football Giants!)

Padma now lays out the rules for the Elimination challenge:

They will be serving at a Fire and Ice cocktail party, where they have to make one dish and one cocktail.

“Your dish must contain both a hot and cold element,” Padma says.

“That is so wide open to interpretation,” Lindsay reports.

(Actually, Lindz, “a hot and a cold element” seems pretty narrowly open to interpretation to me.)

At Whole Foods, Paul orders 1,000 grams of King Crab and I’m thinking, get a hold of yourself man, you’re going to need some sort of giant truck to carry that much—but then I remember that 1,000 grams = about 2 pounds. #Metricsarehard

Paul and Sarah both have very high concepts, involving melting mousse and snow foam but Lindsay thinks they’re being too “gimmicky.” Hmmmm.

Meanwhile, she’s making halibut, because one of the burning questions of this season is: Can Lindsay make halibut or what? (Sadly, that’s not an exaggeration. That actually is one of the burning questions this season. Especially now that Malibu Chris and his magically shape-shifting sexuality is gone.)

Tom comes into the kitchen to check on their progress and proceeds to really mess with Paul’s head.

“What happened in the last Quickfire?” he asks. “Did the pressure get to you? Don’t you know that you’re Asian!” (Okay, he didn’t really ask that last part.)

But Paul, in classic Paul fashion, keeps his cool: “These two ladies are bad ass,” he says.

“So they just made better dishes than you?” Tom asks. (Dude, lay off.)

“Yeah,” says Paul. He is unflappable Tom. Stop trying to flap him.

It’s service time.

“I wish I had another hour,” sighs Paul. But when the curtain rises, the curtain rises.

As the judges wait for their food, they bemoan the fact that someone is going to have to go home.

“There’s no Last Last Chance Kitchen,” says Tom.

“Bev’s coming back!” cracks Padma.

“She’s actually under the table right now,” says Emeril. Hey, an actual joke. By Emeril Lagasse. On purpose. Welcome to Season 9, Emeril!

Paul’s up first with his king crab with sunchoke chips and lobster broth, plus the “Pan Am” cocktail (kaffir lime, Thai chilies, rum—followed by a quickie in the airport bathroom).

Everyone likes the dish a lot, but they wish Paul’s Pan Am had more kick. (Ironic, since they were blasting his Quickfire dish for being too hot. Dude can’t win.)

Tom becomes enraged by Paul’s arugula, which he has basically used as a garnish. Tom is apparently a member of the lesser known PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Arugula.) He is not a happy camper.

Next up, Sarah’s five greens-filled pasta with garlic and chili spiced sformato (mousse) and “Agrumi” cocktail (gin, kumquat and mango).

The pasta is delicioso, but the mousse got overly frozen on her fancy freezing plate and isn’t quite creating the melting sauce effect she was hoping for.

Still, high marks for degree of difficulty and flavor.

Suddenly, Lindsay begins to second guess her second guessing. Maybe she should add a more gimmicky element to her dish. So, at the last minute, she adds a spoonful of tomato ice to her halibut with fiery celery root salad and roasted tomato with an ‘Encendido” (vodka, tomato, and horseradish).

And it’s a good thing, too.

“I’ve never eaten a piece of ice so well seasoned,” says Gail, of Lindsay’s ice spoon.

Also, for the record, the halibut is perfectly cooked. Can we all just finally move on with our lives?!?

Then the judges deliberate.

It gets a little contentious, especially this exchange about Lindsay, between Gail and Tom.

“I didn’t think she made any mistakes,” says Gail.

“The drink was a mistake,” says Tom.

“But it definitely went with the food,” says Gail.

(Okay, so not exactly contentious, but that qualifies as high drama on this particular episode.)

The cheftestants are called back in.

“Sarah,” says Padma, pausing for effect and making a sad face. “You are moving on to the finale!” (Oh, the patented Padma fakeout. When. Will. I. Learn?)

Once Sarah retrieves her heart from her mouth, she’s able to celebrate in the holding room.

Sort of strange order for the show, huh?

Arugula abuse notwithstanding, Paul was pretty much a foregone conclusion, so the suspense between Lindsay and Paul isn’t that extreme.

(I guess they thought the original Sarah fakeout was more compelling than a Sarah v. Lindsay final two.)

Anyway, yeah, Lindsay is going home.

A shame because her womance with Sarah was a lovely thing to behold.

But it seems fitting that in a season more defined by its constantly self-mythologizing homebase state than anything else, we’d have two Texans as the final two.

Saddle up. Giddy-up. Hook em horns. Etc. etc. etc. . .

Bride Goeth Before the Fall: The Bachelor recap

I now pronounce you Dumb and Dumber

 

So here’s a thought: If you are emotionally fragile or have been appallingly unlucky in love (or better still, if you are emotionally fragile and have been appallingly unlucky in love), a great place for you is a reality TV dating show!

Because no one is ever hurt on those things and the chances of you driving home in a limo with a camera trained on you as you curse the heavens and ugly cry is, like, totally nil.

I mean, is it just me or are these Bachelorettes a little more basket-case-y than even the usual crop of reality TV love-seekers? We have Nicki who sees herself as a modern-day Hester Prynne (she’s a—shhhhh—divorcee, you know) and Courtney who hurls herself at men willy-nilly and then is shocked, shocked, shocked when they don’t respect her in the morning, and adorable Kacie who used to have a little illness I like to call body dysmorphia, and finally Lindzii who was not so much dumped as punk’d by her last boyfriend.

Stability, thy name is the Final Four.

Okay, hometown visits here we come. (Needless to say, they’re going to save Courtney for last, because we’re all dying to see what she is the spawn of. I, for one, am basically expecting her mom to be Madeleine Stowe from Revenge.)

We start with Lindzzzi. 

Generic photo because show promo department couldn't be bothered getting screen shot from her date

Here are my thoughts on Lindzzzi. She may love Ben, but she will never love Ben as much as she loves those damn horses. No, not in a creepy Equus sort of way (I hope), just in a “I’m naked without a horse between my legs” sort of way. (Uh. . .)

“Horses have been my life since before I was born. I rode before I walked,” says Lindzzi, who clearly needs a refresher course on the human reproduction timeline.

So how is this horse situation going to work out on a vineyard in San Francisco? How I ask you?

Ben meets Lindzzi’s parents and is surprised to discover that they got married in the exact same San Francisco City Hall where he and Lindzii had their first date. What’s odd is that Lindzzi also seems surprised by the news. Are these even her real parents? Did she hire a couple of actors to play her parents? I am now officially suspicious.

Then Lindzzi’s “dad” challenges Ben to some sort of medieval initiation ritual—a chariot race. (No, really.)

And Ben loses so he and Lindzzi have to drag her parents home like two-legged work horses, as Lindzzi’s “dad” whips their backs and yells, “Faster, swines! Faster!” (Okay, not really on that last part. But they really did have to drag them home.)

In the end, everyone likes everyone at this little family get-together and Lindzzi’s “dad” even says, “I would  be honored to have you as a son-in-law. . .if this were actually my daughter, that is. . . .”

Next up:

Kacie. 

I get a kick out of romance

Oh, poor sweet, plucky, deluded Kacie, who stages her own little teenage dream on her high school’s football field.

Because what’s sexier to a grown man than a drum majorette?

Ben has to look dutifully heartwarmed as she leads a marching band down the field, twirling her baton with glee. She ends with a spazzy little cartwheely flourish and then she and Ben have a serious convo about what to expect with her parents.

Bad piece of news #1: Dad is a federal probation officer.

Bad piece of news #2: Who doesn’t drink.

Ben’s internal monologue: I should’ve kept Emily.

“Anything else you want to tell me about him?” Ben asks tremulously.
“Well, he killed a man once,” Kacie says. (Psych!)

Basically, it’s amazing Kacie’s parents ever let her leave the house, let alone go on a reality TV dating show.

They’re very, very protective of their little girl. Like, chastity belt protective.

Next, Ben and Kacie’s dad have what might very well be the most awkward conversation in the history of conversations (and I’m including the time my mom asked me what kind of birth control I was using my sophomore year of college).

In short, Kacie’s dad is all like: Do not have sex with our baby. It will not end well.

And Ben is all like: Gulp.

As for Kacie’s mom. If she was trying to intentionally sabotage her little girls chances—not that I would ever suggest such a thing—she could not have done a better job.

“I have a serious problem with her moving to California,” mom says, adding. “And I would be a little disappointed if you two chose to live together before getting married.”

Kacie’s parents aren’t so much deal breakers and deal annihilators.

So, with that, the only mystery remaining in this episode is: What will Courtney’s parents look like? But first, Nicki, in Fort Worth, Texas.  (I’m pretty sure that was Texas, right? It was hard to tell because there weren’t enough Texas stereotypes on display for me to be sure.)

Wait? What state are we in again?

So Ben and Nicki go to a cowboy outfitter and buy boots and  hats.

(I’m assuming that the show is reimbursing Ben for this little shopping spree, otherwise I’d advise him against it: Never buy a turquoise belt buckle in Santa Fe, a cape at the Renaissance Festival or a pair of $500 cowboy boots in Texas. You will come home, come to your senses, and they will collect dust in your closet.)

“Finding the right boot is very similar to finding the right partner in life,” Nicki says. “You have to get just the right fit.” (Aaaand we are 51 minutes in before our first tortured metaphor people! A season record?)

Off to meet the parents. And you will never guess what fresh scandal I am about to expose: Nicki’s parents are—wait for it—divorced!!!!
Oh, the shame. The shondah! How did this depraved family get past the network TV censors?!?

Dad pulls Nicki aside. You see, he wants to apologize to her. He feels he too readily gave her hand in marriage the first time and he won’t make that mistake again.

(Um, I know Texas is a little conservative, but good lord, what year is this?)
“Oh, don’t blame yourself, Dad,” Nicki says. And they hug. Somewhere, Rick Santorum is tearing up.

But good news, people! Nicki’s parents like the cut of Ben’s jib.

“If we don’t see you again, I won’t be mad at you. I’ll just be disappointed,” says her dad in a toast to Ben. (Aww, that’s actually kind of sweet.)

Crazy Town, Arizona here we come!

(I love how they dispensed with the first three girls in a little over an hour and devote the entire second half of the show to Courtney. They know which side their bread is buttered on.)

In a voiceover, Courtney has a rare moment of reflection.

“I feel disappointed in myself for treating the girls the way I did,” she says. (Really? Hello, complete personality transformation! Some PR person has clearly gotten to her.)

So we meet her family. As usual, there is a less pretty sister. (Why is there always a less pretty sister? It’s practically axiomatic at this point.)

Also, Courtney’s mom seems pretty intense, but is not quite the bitch goddess I was expecting her to be.

As for Courtney’s dad, it was hard to see past his blinding argyle sweater vest.

Courtney proceeds to talk about Ben like he’s not at the table: “He’s amazing. I’m excited for you guys to meet him. I like him a lot. He’s so smart and funny. I dig him. I feel like I’m falling for him.”
 

Meanwhile, Ben is waving his hands in front of her face: “I’m RIGHT HERE!”

“Have you fallen or are you falling?” asks her sister. (Translation: Because I will so take your sloppy seconds.)

“I like him/love him,” Courtney says.

As for Courtney’s mom, she says this: “Ben seems like a very polite young man.”
(Translation: He’s not hot enough for my daughter).

Ben and Vesty McVesterson have a talk in the rain. At least, I think it’s raining. I see rain drops but neither of them are getting wet. (I know it’s a dry heat in Arizona but I didn’t realize that rain actually evaporated before hitting the ground. Where’s the super smart Emily to explain all this hard sciencey stuff when you need her?)

OMG, I just noticed that Ben is wearing the cowboy boots he bought on his hometown visit to Nicki. Party foul!! Party foul!  (But is it a . . . sign?)

The weird thing about the visit to Courtney’s family is that she almost seemed—dare I say it—normal in their presence. Luckily, the second half of the date is about to happen!

Follow me to Crazy Town: Population 2

So Courtney takes Ben to the spot where she’s always wanted to skinny dip get married.

The only date I can think of worse than “drum majorette on a high school football field” is “faux wedding ceremony.”

At least I think it’s a faux wedding ceremony.

The aisle is set up, there are chairs, an alter. Courtney slaps a jaunty little makeshift bowtie on Ben. And a man standing there who may or may not be a minister!

Holy matrimony!

Ben, for his part, handles it well. He even writes some super sensitive Ben vows at Courtney’s request.

“I’m getting a little nervous,” he admits.

But not so nervous that he doesn’t actually play along.

Ben reads his rather eloquent vows. Courtney burps out hers.

They exchange rings.

So wait. . .are they. . .married now? WTF?

“If this were a real wedding I’d now be pronouncing you man and wife,” the not!minister says.
Whew! They must’ve gotten him from the same casting agency where they got Lindzzi’s “father.” (For all your Father-y casting needs)

“We are not Mr. and Mrs. Flajnik yet, but it feels pretty good to try it on for size,” Courtney purrs.

Alrighty then.

And now they’re back in LA.

True recapper confession: I fast forwarded over the part where Ben recounts the last 1:45 minutes of the show with Chris Harrison. Couldn’t they have had this conversation off camera? #Filler

Rose ceremony time. Here’s the order:

1. “Courtney, will you accept this rose?”
“I do” (I see what you did there.)

2. Lindzzzi

And now it’s down to Nicki vs. Kacie.

3. And. . .Nicki gets the third rose.

Nicki and Lindzzzi hug Kacie. Courtney lurches awkwardly, but doesn’t go for the hug.

Kacie holds it together manfully until she gets to the limo and basically turns into Linda Blair in The Exorcist.

The less said about this the better.

Next week, all your Bachelor tropes are trotted out: An Alpine adventure! Ben and Courtney in a hot tub! An unexpected visitor to shake things up!

The pleasure of your presence is requested. . .

Padma's Gotta Gun: The Top Chef Texas recap

Pick me!

They’ve gone through over two months of grueling competition, they’ve cooked their asses off, prepared everything from pork ribs to foie gras, and, one by one, they’ve defeated their culinary foes. So what’s the best way to choose our Top Chef finalists? Cross country skiing and target shooting, of course!

Shoot me now. (But not literally.)

Look, I’m not the first to say that this season of Top Chef has kind of lost its way. But here’s some unsolicited advice to Padma and friends going forward: Less forced product placement, less gimmicks, less challenges that have more to do with physical prowess than culinary skills, and get back to basics. There’s no shame in recycling some of the old Quickfires (I, for one, miss the blindfolded taste test), especially when the ones you come up with involve moving gondolas and blocks of ice.

So yeah, we’re in British Columbia now, for reasons not quite made clear.

Some time has passed, all the contestants have grown their hair—as they do.

Paul has packed on a few pounds, but still looks cute. And with his bratty school boy haircut, he looks a bit like the Asian Chuck Bass.

(However, the less said about his neon orange pants and matching suspenders, the better.)

They all greet each other warmly, but Sarah and Lindsay are cool to Bev.

“Paul, Sarah, and I have a bond,” explains Lindsay. “We’ve been through this since day one. It’s a little weird seeing Beverly show up.”

Yes, because she missed two whole episodes.

As the cheftestants drive to their challenge destination, Paul asks Bev about Last Chance Kitchen.

“Oh, it was pretty awesome!” gushes Bev, so glad that someone finally bothered to ask. “I.  .  .”

“Look at that tree!” blurts out Sarah, in what is quite possibly the least artful sabotage of a conversation I’ve ever seen.

Beverly rolls  her eyes and simmers quietly, Beverly-style.

(By the way, did anyone catch Bev get the honey badger treatment on Watch What Happens Live last night? So good.) (And snazzy jacket there, Bev.)

They go to the top of a mountain, where Padma and Tom are about to be blown out of the frame, like this guy from the Weather Channel. 

So apparently, this was the same mountain where the Winter Games took place and we’ve got a completely reasonable Olympic theme to tonight’s show. Because the Winter Games are coming . . . in February 2014.

“Welcome to the Culinary Games!” says Padma, living out her Suzy Chapstick fantasy.

There will be three events. Each event offers a prize of $10,000 and a trip to the finale.

For the first event, the cheftestants have to prepare a dish on a moving gondola.

Here are a few things that might stand in the way of them making an ideal dish:

It’s cold as shit.

Paul gets motion sickness.

Food defrosts slower in the cold.

Water boils faster at high altitudes.

The gondola is moving.

“It’s very nauseous in here”-Sarah.

But besides that, it’s all about the food.

Guest judge is noted foodie and Olympic snowboarder Gretchen Bleiler. (I wonder if her fans are called Beleilers, Justin Bieber style. . .)

In the end, miraculously, the judges like all four dishes, but they are partial to Beverly’s clever salmon tartare and Lindsay’s salmon and chorizo.

And Lindsay wins! She’s our first finalist.

After, Sarah assesses Beverly with a series of baffling animal metaphors: “She is that silent horse. She likes to be meek and timid and then she likes to attack like a tiger.”(Why does everyone feel compelled to compare Bev to a woodland creature? Discuss among yourselves.)

Round two, where food is packed into enormous ice blocks. So they have to get to their food, thaw it, and then prepare it.

They are given ice picks, and all start hacking away like Jason in Friday the Thirteenth, if Jason had a culinary degree and an impudent way with a buerre blanc.

The ice picking—and all the Olympic-style competition for that matter—brings out the crazed, Honey Badger side of Beverly. She looks positively demented.

But of course, she’s not that strong. And neither is Sarah, who’s clearly not the jock of the bunch. They start whacking at their ice blocks with frying pans. It’s not a pretty sight. (It's like the Pine Barrens episode of The Sopranos, for those who get the reference.)

Paul releases his ingredients first. And even he knows how idiotic and irrelevant to cooking this exercise is. So he helps Sarah and Bev break their ice blocks, too. (Love. Him.)

In the end, it all works out for the best.

Paul wins this round with his King crab and mango chivalry (I mean, uh, chutney).

So, as it must be, I suppose, it’s down to Sarah vs. Beverly.

They meet Padma at the top of another mountain.

“Oh my God, she has a gun,” Sarah says when she sees Padma. (I had a nightmare like this once—except it was both Heidi Klum and Padma with guns and for some reason I was dressed in bearskins).

“This is your last shot to move into the final three,” says Padma. (Anyone who reads my The Bachelor recaps knows that my intolerance for bad puns is at Defcon 1 at this point. So Padma is treading on thin ice.) (Ohmygod, it’s contagious.)

This final challenge is the culinary biathlon where you have to cross country ski and then shoot for your ingredients.

(I’m pretty sure Chef Ripert also had to do this before he opened Le Bernardin.)

Bev has never cross country skied or used a gun in her life.

Sarah, however, used to shoot tin cans in the woods with her pappy. (Is that a real thing? My hand to God, I thought it was just something fake rednecks did in movies.) #EastCoastgirl

Advantage Sarah?
You might think so, but then you’d be underestimating the Honey Badger.

Beverly gets on those skis, and with a Bev look of Bev determination that only Bev can muster, Bevs her way around the course.

There’s a moment where Sarah wipes out on Beverly’s skis—and of course, Sarah seethes at Beverly, as though she did it on purpose. (Beverly can barely ski in a straight line, but she has the diabolical know-how to use her skis as a weapon? I think not.)

Eventually, they both make it to the end of course and start shooting for their ingredients.

Bev proves to be a halfway decent shot, at least as good as Sarah.

They both get the ingredients they want, so we are finally done with this nonsense.

The judges like Beverly’s arctic char with celery root, beets, and black truffles and are impressed that she got out of her Asian comfort zone to produce something earthy and rootsy.

Quibble: Her fish is slightly overcooked and the whole dish was not quite seasoned enough.

They also like Sarah’s rabbit with black cherries and hazelnuts. It’s a very flavorful and well thought out dish.

Quibble: Rabbit a little tough.

“You made two very good dishes,” says Tom. “You’re not making it easy on us. So thank you.”

Padma breaks the news: “Beverly, please pack your knives and go.”

What follows is a show of hypocrisy that “is very nauseous,” as Sarah might say.
All of a sudden, everyone is hugging Beverly and loving her spunk and telling her how awesome she is. It’s a freakin’ lovefest.

“You kicked ass,” says Paul.

“You kicked hardcore ass,” says Lindsay.

“I’m so glad we got to cook together. You’re amazing,” says Sarah, hugging Bev. (Aaaaand I just threw up a little in my mouth.)

And then Bev pulls out her trusty ice pick and stabs them all repeatedly in the eye.

The End