Ping Dynasty: The Project Runway recap

How I wish that Project Runway could have a designated contestant each season who they keep around purely for our amusement. You know, one who wouldn’t necessarily know a sewing needle from a hypodermic needle, but who consistently brings the funny.

Because what will Season 7 of Project Runway be without the glory of Ping?

Amusing as Anthony is (and he actually made me laugh this episode, with his “even the VP of McDonald’s needs a dress”), his is a contrived kind of entertainment. He’s trying to be funny. Ping, however, is the genuine article. A Grade-A, they-broke-the-mold-when-they-made-her, honest to goodness weirdo.

Hey, at least she went out with a Ping-centric episode.

As the show starts, we see Anthony brushing his teeth while wrapped in a curtain (is that a Southern thing?) and Ping leaving the house . . .without her shoes.

“Oh, shoes!” she says, as though she forgot to turn out the light in the hallway. (I haven’t left my house without shoes since I was 2, so this is a truly awesome oversight on her part.)

Throughout the course of the show, Ping loses many things. They include:

The aforementioned shoes.

Her notebook.

Her envelope containing $500. (!)

Her sense of time and space.

Project Runway. (Oh snap.)

The only thing she doesn’t manage lose is the clothing on her back—which kind of sheds some light on why she designs the way she does.

Anyway, the designers are taken to the Metropolitan Museum of Art where they are brought to the couture exhibit. Everyone, including Tim, is kvelling over the gorgeous works by Yves St. Laurent, Balenciaga, and Madame Gres.

Their task? Make a signature couture outfit inspired by the greatness before you.

Their budget? $500 smackeroos.

Their hurdle? Two words: Team challenge.

So they get paired up and everyone is thinking the exact same thing:

“NotPingNotPingNotPingNotPingNotPing. . .”

And Jesse gets paired with Ping and immediately puts on his BitchFace.

(This makes me wonder: If I were Jesse, and paired with Ping, would I immediately become hostile and defensive? Or would I try to grin and make it work? I thought Jesse kind of came across as an ass this challenge, but on the other hand. . .there’s no compromise on Planet Ping. You either speak the language or you don’t.)

Ping and Jesse aren’t the only ones having problems. Mila has decided that Jonathan is her sewing bitch and, while she ponders the larger cultural and sociological implications of her couture coat, Jonathan slaves away over a sewing machine doing the actual, you know, work.

Meanwhile, Jay has immunity and he. . .acts like he has immunity. At one point, he just kind of wanders around the studio munching on an apple as his partner, Maya, works on their dress.

And just when tensions are beginning to boil over. . .

“Gather round!” says Mr. Gunn. (The most dreaded words in the Project Runway lexicon, next to, of course: “You are partnered with Ping.”)

Yup, a new wrinkle: The designers now have to create a “look for less” inspired by one of the other teams’ designs, with a budget of $50.

Back to Mood they go (that’s two trips to Mood in one show. . .are they trying to make up for our previous Mood withdrawal?) where Ping manages to find the cheapest-looking fabric in the store.

She, of course, thinks it’s the fabric of the gods.

Jesse questions her choice.

“I’m not used to doubting my idea,” Ping says, screwing up her little Ping face in confusion. Ping is more of an act-now, doubt-never kinda gal.

“I’m not doubting your idea,” he says snippily. “I’m just trying to make sure you have one.”

(Oh Jesse, Jesse, Jesse. . . Why even bother?)

Runway day. Everyone is putting the finishing touches on their two looks, realizing it’s a race against time. The runway show is fast approaching.

“Okay, everyone. We’re leaving,” says Tim. 

Ping looks up, mystified. 

“Leaving where?” she says. (You just can’t make this stuff up.)

“Down to the runway show,” says Jesse wearily. At this point, he is a beaten man.

The looks come down the runway. I have to say, after last week’s brilliance, I’m a little underwhelmed. I often find that when the designers are given free reign, they tend to falter.

I liked Amy’s dress, as well as Emilio’s and Maya’s, but nothing made me gasp with wonder. Looks-for-less-wise, I was pretty impressed with Jesus’s look (which, based on his track record, I can only guess was actually designed by his partner Amy). And yes, I think slacker Jay did a pretty good job of improving on Janeane’s $500 get-up with his $50 one.

Small voice: I actually didn’t mind Anthony’s dress, which Michael Kors called the “cotillion party from hell.” (I don’t think of mustard and black as cotillion colors, do you? ) I’ve seen a lot worse Scarlett O’Hara wannabes on this show. (Kayne, I’m talkin’ to you.)

And Mila’s winning coat? No thanks. It screamed “patron of the arts” to me, the kind of coat that a middle-aged Lincoln Center benefactor might wear to the annual gala.

So the Bottom 4 are Anthony and Seth Aaron and, of course, Ping and Jesse. 

Does Jesse throw Ping under the bus? 
Does Karl Rove shit in the woods?

“I had to teach her sewing lessons,” he says, predictably.

What I didn’t predict was that the model would ALSO throw Ping under the bus. 

“She never fit me in this,” says Meghan, who, it should be noted, is Jesse’s model, not Ping’s.

Yikes! When models attack!

Ping looks understandably dejected. (But very fetching in her stylish metal glasses, heather gray turtle neck and orange pants.) (Note to Ping: Why can’t you design like that?)

Seth Aaron is safe. Jesse is safe.

Heidi makes a gaudy display of the fact that two contestants might be going home. And Anthony is. . .safe.

And with that, Ping gone. Don’t worry, Ping. All your pals on the mothership will welcome you back with open arms.

Tim Punn: The Project Runway recap

Two shows and still no Mood. What gives? Were they shut down by the Department of Health for having an infestation of fabulousness?

Whatever the case, the designers are taken to a farm—because nothing says, “Welcome to Manhattan!” like cow piles and hay—where Tim Gunn looks like he’s auditioning for some hillbilly remake of “Addicted to Love.” He is nattily attired. The models, however, are wearing potato sacks.

So the challenge is, yes, to make a hot party outfit out of a potato sack. In a twist that would’ve been a whole lot juicier later in the season, the models are the clients and they get to pick their designer. (By the way, a note to Lifetime network executives: We notice that you are giving the models a higher profile on the show. And we also know why—rhymes with Nodels of the Funway.)

Most stick with the designer who brung them, but Alexis, who probably can’t remember if her designer was Mila or Maya, avoids the issue altogether and takes Anthony. This causes Mila (her actual designer) to pretty much freak out. I mean, she won’t stop talking about it.

Back at the studio, Mila comforts herself by saying, “Her loss.” Except the thing is, she says it out loud. Within Anthony’s ear range. And he takes understandable umbrage. It also gives him a chance to spout some of his oh so hi-larious Southern-fried wisdom: “She can kiss my ass and my entire family’s asses.” Can someone already get this guy a giant name tag that reads “Flo”?

The funny thing is, Mila and her new model are getting along famously, while Alexis is the client from hell. She wants her potato sack to be flowy, hippy, sexy, beady, and fringey. Make it work, Flo.

Tim is all in his glory when he comes by to give critiques. First, he objects to the amount of work Jay has before him. “I’m flabbergasted!” he says. Here’s what was so great about that.
a. He used the word flabbergasted. This is a seriously under-used word.
b. He didn’t just SAY flabbergasted. He kind of acted it out. This involved reeling backward, as though overtaken by a strong gust of wind, with his lips spasmodically quivering. It was marvelous.

Then Tim wandered over to our little twink Jesus and noticed the fact that Jesus was covering up his entire burlap sack with ribbon.
“I think you’re skirting the issue, no pun intended,” Tim said.
And oh how Jesus laughed and laughed at the ingenuity of Tim’s pun. “Good one, my good man,” he said. “A real corker.”
(No, he didn't actually say that. Keep in mind folks, this was a guy who couldn’t evoke the name of the Empire State Building last week.)

So it’s runway day and Ping’s dress still has no ass. This concerns sweet little Jonathan until he notices that Ping is laughing. “Maybe it’s supposed to be an ass flap,” he posits.

The special guest judge is “American icon, model, actress, and adventurer” Tila Tequila. No, wait, it’s Lauren Hutton.
(Remember how last season Michael Kors and Nina Garcia were occasional special guest judges? I still wake up in a cold sweat over that sometimes.)

So how much did that runway show kick ass?
Seriously, I was putting asterisks next to all the looks I liked until I ran out of ink in my asterisk machine.
But my favorites were definitely Mila’s and Amy’s (pictured).

One of the dresses I wasn’t wild about? Eventual winner Jay. We get it. You made burlap look like feathers. Hooray for you. Now can we discuss the fact that your dress looked like a burlap and feather tutu?

The bottom 3 were Ping, Pamela, and Jesus.

Ping was declared safe because yes, the judges decided they do want to see more of her special brand of wackadoo this season. (Me three!)

So it came down to 47-year-old Pamela and 23-year-old hottie Jesus.
Huh. . .I wonder which way this is going to go?

Farewell, Pamela. You seemed nice. Also, Jessica Simpson called. She totally wants to buy that dress.

Hanging By a Thread: The Project Runway 7 recap

Whoah, guys, I had the WORST dream last night. There was this whole bizarro season of Project Runway. It took place in L.A., all the contestants were dull as dishwater, Nina Garcia and Michael Kors were relegated to “special guest star” status, and Tim Gunn wore—shudder—flip-flops. It was a total nightmare!

Anyway, new season, new lab rats to dissect. I reserve the right to change my mind on all of the designers, but here are a few preliminary thoughts. . .

Not really loving Seth Aaron, a.k.a., the contestant most likely to be lead singer in a Roxy Music tribute band. I actually thought his little 80s throw-back dress was going to be in the bottom 3, especially with those saggy suspenders (leaves room for breast enhancement surgery!).
But hey, at least the guy’s got a point of view.

Speaking of point of view . . . Ping! Love that her model seemed to come traipsing down the runway essentially carrying all the fabric Ping had chosen in Central Park. It was like Ping said, “Here, hold this. And. . .go!”

Also, Ping’s special practice of wearing the garments she is designing brought out Tim’s best one liner of the night: “Tell me why this is on you.” I’m going to start using that for all the fashion violations in my office.

But I’m so glad that Ping didn’t get eliminated because her aesthetic, let’s call it shmata chic, is one we haven’t seen much on Project Runway. Michael and Nina do love their tailored looks, don’t they?

This whole Mila/Maya thing has to end. We simply can’t have two women with black bangs and four-letter names starting with the letter M. If Tyra Banks were in charge of this show, she’d randomly assign a new name to one of them. “From now on, you will be Zanzibar!” And that would be that.

From the eye candy department we have little Latino twink Jesus, such a budding mensa he couldn’t come up with the name of the Empire State Building. (I thought he was a goner there for a second with his Armadillo dress. . . my ovaries would’ve been so sad). Then there’s Jesse “I’m the most famous pirate in the world!” (good Lord these kids are young). I’m pretty sure Jesse was the one who kept insisting that he takes it from “gritty to pretty”. Yes, Jesse, that fey little mustache of yours is so street.

Also, Ben looks like Todd Oldham. And cute little bespectacled Jonathan looks exactly like that pudgy personal trainer (I know, delightfully oxymoronic but true) from the old Bravo show Work Out.

Obviously, Anthony is the uproarious one this season and doesn’t he know it. I didn’t laugh at a single one of his cracks, especially his brilliant “Ping. . .Pong” (that’s not a pun, it’s just word association) but he seems harmless enough.

Janeane is our resident crier. Sample quote (said while crying): “The thought of it makes me want to cry.” For some reason, it’s always more fun when the crier is a dude.

My favorite two dresses were Emilio’s (the guy who won) and Amy’s (she had that little harlequin mini dress). And I thought Janeane came up with a nice save, considering that her first dress was a complete bust.

Also, let the record show, I love Nicole Richie. I think she has amazing personal style. So I was happy to see her as a guest judge.

So far, off to a promising start. Is it too soon to say that our short national nightmare is over?


Photo courtesy of People.com

Champion Eater: The Top Chef Vegas recap

As the show starts, Padma and her resplendent pregnancy boobs bring out the fallen cheftestants. One by one they march forward: There’s Jennifer and Eli and Robin and Michael I and Ashley and a bunch of other chefs whose names I have long forgotten. The three finalists have to draw knives to choose sous chefs.

Gallant draws Jennifer and Ashley. Well played.
Goofus draws Jessie and Eli. Not half bad.
Kevin draws Ash and. . . Preeti. Cue the “you lose” game show music.

Can we just establish something upfront? Preeti sucks. If there’s one thing I love about chefs, even mediocre chefs, it’s their knifework. It might take me 5 minutes to cut a tomato, but it will take a good chef 15 seconds flat. It takes Preeti an hour and 12 minutes. I timed her once.

So Kevin is justifiably upset that he’s been saddled with such crappy sous chefs—although, as Preeti struggles with the twisty tie on a loaf of bread, Ash does step up to the plate and handles about 12 different assignments.

At this stage in the game, the finalists think they are dealing with three courses:
One free-for-all, where they can make anything they want.
One dessert.
And one dish prepared from a mysterious box that may or may not contain a button that will kill a complete stranger. (Actually, the box has Dungess crab, rockfish, Meyer lemon, and matsutake mushrooms.)
The courses will be served in front of some major foodie players at the 2 star Michelin-rated Cyrus.
“This meal can make your career,” Tom Colicchio says. Like, duh.

Back at the house, the boys are understandably twitchy. Because there’s always a twist. So there’s a knock at the door—and suddenly Kevin is hugging a middle-aged ginger. And then the Volt boys are hugging their own middle-aged woman in mom pants. It’s the moms!

As Kevin’s mom gives him a “you’re good enough, you’re smart enough, and doggone it, people like you” pep talk, Mrs. Voltaggio buttons her boys’ chef coats and smartly cuffs their sleeves. It’s pretty much the cutest thing ever.

Kevin is so inspired by his mom’s visit that he turns directly to the camera and says, “Winning Top Chef is a matter of personal pride. I’m going to fight til the very last dish!” However, his speech would’ve been a lot more inspirational had he not burped at the tail end of it. Couldn’t Bravo have edited that out? (Also, if someone can create a .gif for me of Kevin’s gassy proclamation, I would sure appreciate it.)

So just when it seemed like there was no twist at all, just moms and hugs and moonbeams, Tom Colicchio shows up it the kitchen. Goofus looks like he’s been sent to the principal’s office, which I’m sure is a familiar setting for him.

The twist, as twist’s go, isn’t half bad: The fourth dish has to be inspired by something your mom made you. It would be funny if Goofus and Gallant made the same thing.

But they don’t.

Gallant is making sardines in panka bread crumbs, inspired by tuna noodle casserole.

Goofus hated broccoli as a kid, so he’s making fried broccoli and prawns.

Kevin’s mom likes chicken skin (who doesn’t?) so his fourth dish—actually, the first of the courses to be served—is crispy chicken skin.

For the first course, the moms are at the table. We find out that Goofus was a very picky eater as a kid, so much so that when he ate all his food for a week, his mom would give him a “Champion Eater” trophy. Gallant, who always ate all his vegetables, never got a trophy. (Foreshadowing?)

All the first courses are well received, although the judges, who include both Gail and Toby Young, found Gallant’s sardines to be under-seasoned. Kevin’s chicken skin was tasty but not very complex. The judges were divided on Goofus’s broccoli. Some raved, some thought the shrimp were undercooked.

“Which [son’s] dish did you like better?” Padma says mischievously to Mrs. Voltaggio. I had no idea she had such a mean streak.

On the one hand, I thought it was kind of rude that they kicked the moms out after the first course—Taco Bell, here they come!—but on the other, I was kind of glad. Hearing the moms extolling the awesomeness of their sons was getting a little tiresome.

Round One (I think): Kevin

Course two is the Mystery Box—so it was three variations of rockfish.
Apparently, Kevin doesn’t know how to cook matsutake mushroom and—while I’m very surprised Preeti didn’t step in and show him how it’s done—it made his dish less successful.
Gallant was slightly under-seasoned (again), but Goofus’s flavors were complex and wonderful.

Round two: Goofus

Course three is the wildcard.
Kevin made pork belly with brussel sprouts.
Gallant made venison saddle.
Goofus made squab.

Everyone agreed that the pork belly was slightly undercooked. And while Goofus’s squab was excellent, Gallant’s venison was sheer perfection.

Round three: Gallant.

Course four is the dessert.
Kevin made banana with a bacon/chocolate mousse and bacon brittle.
(I wonder if Kevin sneaks pictures of bacon into the bathroom with him? The man loves bacon like Tiger Woods loves . . .golf.)

Gallant made a sheep’s milk cheesecake with fig sorbet and dolce de leche sauce.

Goofus made chocolate caramel coulant (essentially a molten chocolate cake) with toasted pumpkin seeds. But his coulant was overcooked and not as moist as it needed to be. And he knew it.

The judges agreed that Goofus would have won if his coulant had been moister, but . . .
Round Four goes to Gallant, by default.

So to the judge’s table we go, where each of the boys is asked why he deserves to be Top Chef.
While both Kevin and Gallant give an answer about their passion for all things culinary, Goofus says, “ I just don’t want my brother to be Top Chef.”
Which is funny. And probably true.

So Padma sends them away with a “That’ll be all for right now”—although she should’ve said, “That’ll do, pig,” for Kevin’s sake.
And the deliberations begin.

The funniest moment is when Toby Young is lobbying for Kevin’s rockfish. Chef Tom points out that the dish is a failure because the mushroom was too tough.
“Easy fix,” says Toby. “Just don’t eat the mushroom.”
(Clearly, his judgment has been clouded by Kevin’s bacon.)

So they all agree that Kevin has amazing potential but just had an off night and that Gallant’s venison was possibly the best dish of the night, but that Goofus has a way of creating complex, unfolding flavors that really distinguishes him.

They brings back the finalists and dismiss Kevin right away. Sniff.

So it comes down to the two brothers. I mean, of course it does right? How did we all not see this coming? Goofus, a culinary bungee jumper of sorts. And Gallant, super skilled, but a little safe (or as he would say “smart”)—always going for great, but maybe not quite going for extraordinary.

And the winner is. . .Goofus!

So Goofus actually cries and describes his emotions as a combination of exhausted, proud, happy, and sad: “I didn’t know you could actually feel every emotion at the same time,” he says, which is a cute thing to say. And Gallant is sad but very gallant and proud of his kid brother.

And Mrs. V comes in and doesn’t know who to hug first. She hugs Goofus but looks over at Gallant, as if to say, “You’re still my first.”

And in the end, both Voltaggio boys should be damn proud, but you know that Gallant is bummed. And a lesson is learned for all of us: Sometimes in this life you eat your vegetables and are nice to old ladies (or at least Robin) and do everything right. . . and you still don’t get the damn trophy.

Grapes of Wrath: The Top Chef recap

As first reported right here in this blog, tonight’s episode was all about hair. Kevin went to the barber and apparently asked for “The Keebler.” Padma inexplicably decided to rock pregnancy bangs. Jen continued her grand tradition of “I don’t give a shit” in a ponytail and “I don’t give a shit” down on her shoulders. Gallant looked exactly the same, because steadfast consistency is one of his most Gallant-like qualities. And Goofus asked his stylist to make him look like a contestant on Chef Academy. Unfortunately, she misunderstood and made him look like a contestant on Tool Academy.


(Speaking of hair, did you know that there was a Facebook page devoted to Kevin’s beard? People are strange.)


So the 4 remaining cheftestants are in Napa Valley and the Quickfire involves cooking on a train. Trains are bumpy and Kevin gets motion sickness, so this does not bode well. Thankfully, any vomiting, if it occurred, took place off camera.


Guest judge is Michael Chiarello, and if you watched Top Chef: Masters you know two things: He’s a damn fine chef, and he has been known to go a little Rambo (or should I say Ramsay?) on his employees.


The challenge is to make a dish using the grape. Grapes figure heavily in tonight’s episode. (By the end of the episode, we will all feel graped.)


Gallant makes a mistake, cooking with a Concorde grape, even though the Concorde grape is not indigenous to the region.


“You used the Concorde grape?” ask Chef Chiarello, staring pointedly at Gallant.


“Yes,” says Gallant, staring pointedly back.


(I’ve decided that it’s really hard to have a quien es mas macho moment when you’re discussing a grape.)


Anyway, Goofus wins the challenge with his grapeapalooza (he even used grape leaves). And he also wins a 2010 Prius, which he will probably rename “The Victory Mobile” and drive around Gallant’s neighborhood whenever he gets a chance, honking his horn triumphantly.


The Elimination Challenge is to make 2 dishes, one vegetarian, using all local ingredients for the annual Crush party, which celebrates—what else?—the harvest of the grape.


Jen decides to cook her duck on hot coals, even though she’s never cooked with coals before. (Why, cheftestants? Why?) Goofus is doing something fancy with egg custard and says quite possibly the most modest thing he has ever said on the show: “It’s up to the egg at this point.” (Goofus ceding control of anything is a major step forward for that boy.)


Time to serve. Padma is wearing an outfit so inappropriate—tight black dress, shiny red boots—that her unborn fetus is actually embarrassed by it.


Other judges: Tom, Gail, and Chef Chiarello.


So everyone applauds Jen’s duck dish (which she ended up roasting, not coal grilling) for being appropriately ducky but her goat cheese and radish dish is too salty. Kevin’s undercooked brisket is too “toothsome” but his roasted beets and carrots are sublime. Goofus’s egg has, indeed, let him down, as it’s too runny, but his magical turnip/pear/foie gras trick seems to be delicious, except when the foie gras runs out the whole illusion falls apart and you are just left with yucky green sauce. Gallant could’ve used some of Jen’s salt but, besides that, everyone seems to dig his short ribs and pumpkin ravioli.


And Gallant wins!


And the loser is Jen. Sigh. Kind of fitting I suppose in a season where the first 4 cheftestants to get the ax were girls.


Gallant tries to have a tender moment with Goofus, but Goofus decides to mock him instead. But Gallant is having none of Goofus’s tomfoolery and pulls him in for a brotherly embrace.


And all I can say is, Kevin, you better win this thing, or that may be the last embrace the Voltaggio boys share for a loooong time.

Lucky 13: The Project Runway recap

I believe it was first Confucius—and later Carol Hannah—who said: “If I’m lying with my head in the toilet, I can’t get any work done.”

Poor dear. I can barely manage to crawl from the bathroom back to the bed when I’m sick like that. She was only making finishing touches on the most important collection of her life.

To make matters worse, Logan was in the studio, being all nice and supportive, and I’m sure she was thinking, “Is my hair greasy? Do I have vomit crust on my mouth?”

Thankfully, Christopher stepped in and gave the comforting hug of a gay man, which is the most comforting hug of all.

As for Gordana, she was going all Brokeback Mountain on Irina as the two of them worked feverishly: “I won’t quit on you,” she said. “I promise.”

One thing I noticed when the designers “gathered round” Tim Gunn? Either Althea is a giant, or both Carol Hannah and Irina are 4 foot 8. How had I never noticed that before?

Tim Gunn, bored with this season as the rest of us, fanned the flames a bit (naughty boy!) when he pointed out that Irina and Althea had both instructed their makeup artists to do smudgy eyes. There was briefly some confusion about who invented the smoky eye first (I believe it was Man Ray, in 1921), before everyone got back to sewing.

Backstage at Bryant Park, Tim Gunn was “about to lose it” (something to do with the models not being ready), and of course, it was the most restrained, elegant meltdown in the history of meltdowns. His "losing it" is my equivalent of "admirably keeping my cool."

The collections were all nice. Full disclosure, I had seen them already online and was really wowed by Carol Hannah’s work. Some of her dresses—especially her first dress, plus her inverted tutu dress, and the look she brought to judging—were, to coin a Gunnism, “stunning.”

But seeing Irina’s collection up close, I saw the phenomenal attention to detail and the genuinely luxe quality of the work. I may be a hater, but I will not stand to the left. I’ll grudgingly admit that Irina’s collection was damn good.

As for Althea’s sci-fi inspired collection, I learned that in the future, we apparently won’t need the use of our hands—most of her sleeves went down to her model’s kneecaps. (Also true of some of Irina’s knits. But who copied who?) I liked her collection well enough, but it was simply an extension of the kind of cool, chic, and wearable stuff she had done all season—there were no real showstoppers.

And isn’t it strange that the 13th look was a major success for all three designers? I think if I had slaved over a collection for 3 months and the look I did on the fly was the one everyone was going gaga over, I’d be pissed. It would be like if you sweated over a Thanksgiving meal for hours and then everyone went nuts for the instant stuffing. (BTW, that was just a hypothetical. I haven’t made a Thanksgiving dinner in my life. Hi Mom!)

The judges were Nina, Michael, Heidi and Suzy Menkes from the International Herald Tribune, who was channeling Ed Grimley with her unfortunate hair. (I confess that my faith in her ability to judge the collections was somewhat compromised by that hair don’t.)

Carol Hannah was first to be auf’ed, and even though I think she should have at least come in second, it was too dramatic to pass up on an Althea and Irina showdown.

And congratulations to. . .Meana Irina!

She cried actual human tears and her parents came out, and they cried, too. And Lifetime made a very Bravo-like decision when they randomly showed that vaguely Antonio Bandares-esque photo of Irina’s dad when he was young: "Your daughter has just won Project Runway and. . .here’s how hot you were in your 20s!!" Nicely played Lifetime. Nicely played. There’s hope for this network yet.

Living Sous Vida Loca: The Top Chef recap

The curse of Hootie has been lifted.

I am referring, of course, to Season 5’s Carla, she of the perfect peas and the “hootie hoos” and the food so endearing that even Toby Young “tasted the love.” If you recall, she was given the uniquely horrible advice by Casey (grrrr) to prepare her steak sous vide. Carla had never made sous vide before, and predictably, it didn’t end well.

And so it was when Kevin asked Gallant how to cook sous vide (and Gallant, gallantly, told him), I began yelling at the TV screen, “Remember Hootie! Remember Hootie!”

I had heard a rumor that there would be a shocking elimination this week (lies!) and this whole Bocuse d’Or thing seemed set up to make Kevin fail.

You see, Kevin is neither fussy, nor fancy, nor ironical—all the things that apparently make the Bocuse d’Or fly. (It actually reminds me of those crazy Vegas hair shows where some stylist turns a woman’s hair into a bird’s nest).

Of course, I’m not the first to point out that this whole season has been about technique vs. instinct; finesse vs. flavor. Even the recently departed Robin (didya vote for Fan Favorite yet? didya?) fell clearly into the latter category. She made simple, homey food, prepared reasonably well—and was the object of much scorn because of it.

But when it comes to homey food—or, as Goofus snidely said: “The kind of food I make on my day off”—Kevin is the king. The problem with Goofus—and to a lesser extent Gallant and Jennifer—is that he doesn’t get it. In the end, it’s all about flavors. Food is supposed to be delicious, not just show off the cleverness and technique of its preparer.

So the show starts with a Quickfire challenge judged by Bocuse d’Or wunderkind Gavin Kaysen: Make a protein in a protein in a protein, also known as a ballotine. Because they didn’t specifically say ballotine, Goofus got cute and made a terrine and lost.

“I’m confident my ballotine would’ve been as good as the one Gavin made in the Bocuse d’Or,” Goofus sniffed. (Is there any way he can bottle his confidence and sell it in the condiment aisle? Because every once in a while, I’d like to sprinkle a little Goofus on my toast.)

The cutest thing happened when Padma tasted Jennifer’s calamari ballotine. She sneakily said to Jennifer, “Welcome back.” And as if that girl bonding moment wasn’t winning enough, Kevin, having overheard the exchange, winked at Jennifer. Love. Him.

So, yay, Jennifer wins! I’m happy to see her get a bit of her mojo back. And she gets an extra 30 minutes on the Bocuse d’Or challenge, which seems like a damn good time to win such a thing.

So a few more thoughts before we get to the part where the chef’s cook food on platters stolen from the set of Real Housewives of New Jersey.

•Goofus sleeps in his chef’s coat, which is a lot like a 10-year-old boy sleeping with his catcher’s mitt, and is actually sort of cute.

•Gallant still has faith in his kid brother. After teaching Kevin how to make sous vide, he noted, “My brother might’ve done the same thing. I’m not sure.” Really?


•Did I miss the show where they told us that Eli and Richard Blais had a bromance? Doesn’t make me like Eli any more, but it is a surprising detail.

So at the challenge Goofus’s Mediterrean flavors seemed arbitrary (and Daniel Boulud found a bone in his fish! sacre bleu!), both Eli’s lamb sausage and Gallant’s crusted loin of lamb were undercooked, Jennifer’s salmon was inconsistently cooked, and Kevin’s preparations were too safe. But all in all, the gang did well. And I don’t know about you, but I got a little misty eyed when the judges gave them a round of applause.

In the end, Kevin prevailed. And if he can win this challenge, which is pretty much contrary to everything he stands for as a chef, I truly believe he's unstoppable at this point. I’d like to think that Goofus learned a valuable lesson from all this—something about the virtues of modesty and simplicity and cooking from the heart—but who am trying to kid? He probably thought he was robbed.

And good news, kids! Eli goes home. It’s the Final Four we all predicted 12 episodes ago.

Next week, the finale and—everyone has funny hair!