I wasn't aware that the piece I wrote for Isthmus' annual Dining supplement would be online, but surprise-surprise, it is.

So go read it, non-Madisonians! (hey, you can even read it IN Madison, but since the Dining supplement might still be on some shelves, go grab one quick before yesterday's copy replaces it!)

CLICK HERE, eaters of food and watchers of movies!

A little inside baseball* before I get rolling. As you might know by now, I had to watch a late replay of Top Chef last night due to crushing the competition in a local LOST pub quiz. I realized that AV Club gets their recaps up the night of the episode, and that blows me away. Those New York kids don't ever sleep.

The opening scenes reveal that Andrew feels no sense of loss after watching Ryan monologue his way out the door last week. We're with you, buddy. In a moment of that trademark TC editing, Antonia's comment about how there's no more room for error is followed by an apropos-of-nothing shot of Spike. Is it too much to hope for that ol' Spite gets the boot? You might have forgotten that shot, however, because it is immediately followed by Drink #1 in tonight's installment of the DOIN IT FOR ZOI drinking game.

I'm thinking of the scene in The Big Lebowski, in which The Dude tries to explain that he's obligated to help Bunny because she was threatened with harm. Walter, sarcastically, responds with conductor hands and a sing-song mockery, "They're gonna killl this poooor woman." That's how I'm thinking about Antonia's line, "None of us are trained pastry chefs."

Really, TC producers. Just choose one pastry chef next season, so we don't have to hear this mantra again. Otherwise, every single contestant from this point out should be barred from repeating it. WE GET IT. Buy a friggin' cookbook and study before the show starts if you're so inept with desserts.

Anyway, the Quickfire is clearly desserts from the moment the chefs walk in. Alongisde Padma, author/chef Johnny Iuzzini will judge the largely-impromptu sweets. Iuzzini's forthcoming book, Dessert FourPlay, is the first of many indications in this episode that the producers (and possibly the contestants) really need to get laid. Also, is it a little ballsy to promote a book--by name--in an episode that was filmed over a full year before the book's publication?

Dale's got a Filipino shaved ice dessert recipe that he intends to utilize, and Richard's twisted brain gives forth bananas sliced to look like diver scallops. Meanwhile, Spike proves just how perfect he'll be next to Guy Fieri on the TGI Friday's commercials in a year or so by touting his "I can do it with my eyes closed" molten chocolate cake recipe. Choosing to leave that formidable bullet in his gun, he instead goes with a pineapple rum raisin souffle. Bro, didn't you watch Erik crash and burn with that idea?

Apparently he did, because Spike's dessert gets commendation from Iuzzini for at least being daring and visually impressive. Jennifer's chocolate cake with dipped banana bites is similarly complimented for its nice plating. The guest judge is interested in Mark's pavlovas and his specialty ingredients (wallah seed? walla? anyone?), but doesn't seem so thrilled by Antonia's brûléed lemon curd.

The bottom three turns out to be Antonia, Mark (whose pavlovas weren't very desserty), and in a bit of a surprise, Spike. Spike gets an A for effort, but the result wasn't particularly great. Meanwhile, Richard's banana scallops and banana guacamole took the top prize over Dale's halo-halo and Lisa's "I swore I'd do no desserts" fried wontons with pureed berries and yogurt. Richard's prize, in addition to immunity (it seems like that should be running dry pretty soon, don't you think?), is to be the sole Season 4 inclusion in the yet-to-be-published Top Chef Cookbook.

So ten chefs walk into Second City--have you heard this one?

The chefs learn that they'll be taking in a comedy show put on by Chicago's famed Second City comedy troupe. Everyone gets all gussied up, and there's Mark and Spike, hanging out in the bedroom with Mark in his underpants. Awfully daring, then, of Mark to take a weak shot at Richard for wearing pink. Glass houses, Mark, glass houses.

Everyone's having a grand old time, guffawing and, in Spike's case, smirking. But then the comics start asking for the usual audience suggestions, and after emotions and colors, ask for foods next. At this point, a cloud passes over the Top Chef table, as Nikki points out "these are going to be our dishes." As someone who has attended a comedy event like this, I actually feel for the chefs in this instance. The crowd at these things can be mind-numbingly idiotic.

The comics reveal that the chefs will have to cook for them, and will serve five courses based on the audience suggestions: "yellow love vanilla," "magenta drunk Polish sausage," "orange turned-on asparagus," "purple depressed bacon," and "green perplexed tofu." It's an interesting concept for a challenge, but what will it really show in terms of the skill of our poor chefs?

"My immediate reaction is that we are fucked," says Lisa, but as the chefs pair up to tackle these courses, it becomes clear that there's some solid efforting going into this challenge. Richard and Dale form a pretty strong superteam, while Spike and Andrew form Team Beard (anyone who watched the most recent season of Project Runway, and kept up with the EW.com boards, should be smiling knowingly about beards). Antonia and Lisa comprise a black hole of negativity, Stephanie and Jennifer are eager to work together (no Zoi shout-out, though!), and Mark and Nikki just kinda end up together.

At Whole Foods, the menus really start to come together. Richard wants to marinate tofu in beef tallow (take that, vegetarians!), but lets Dale "drive the bus" since Richard has the immunity. Antonia and Lisa both agree that Polish sausage is just so Polish sausage, so they're going to use chorizo instead, and throw some sea bass in there too. Nothing says "drunk Polish sausage" like chorizo and fish! We must all be glad that at least Spike and Andrew didn't get the sausage theme, because lord only knows how insufferable they'd have been with that goldmine of sophmoric humor.

Insufferable is Spike's middle name, however, and he goes on to crow about finally being able to make his squash soup. Dale discovers that there's no appliances in the back room, and while this twist is totally unremarked-upon by the judges, it does make Andrew work off the jitters even harder by having to manually puree the squash. When Spike uses a cheesecloth to drain out the water, Andrew comments "you know how to work a sack, dude!" ::eyeroll::

Tom announces at the end of his walkthrough that the chefs will not be serving in the TC kitchen as it had appeared, but will instead have to pack up, take their work back to the TC house, and finish there. It is at this point that I notice that, in the confessional shots, Richard's hair is looking awfully sad. It's not as much of a mess as the house kitchen when the chefs arrive, though.

Cooking finally completed, the chefs start serving the comics and judges Tom, Padma and Ted. Spike and Andrew's soup with vanilla crème fraîche has a good amount of heat, with a smoky bacon flavor that Tom appreciates. The bowl, while huge, is well-received by the full panel.

Jen and Steph come out with their titteringly phallic concoction of asparagus propped up on overly large croutons, covered in orange segments and a huge wad of Bucheron cheese. They call it a ménage à trois, and put on a show of eating it, leaving the table (and the viewing audience) to feel awkward. The food, almost forgotten in all the show, is oily and messy. Not pleasing.

Spike comments via confessional that he's confused by Richard's thought process in cooking. By gum, Spike, I dare say you've figured out their theme! Richard and Dale play on perplexity by serving meat-flavored nonmeat and a very complex green curry, and Tom is very happy with the spicy results.

Spike's comment on Antonia and Lisa's dish is that it looks like a turd. He's so erudite, but it's probably true; after announcing their theme words and subsequent menu of sea bass, chorizo, purple potatoes and tequila sauce, the table is overcome by a sea of....silence. One of the diners comments that the keywords appear to have been a burden rather than an inspiration. I'd say they just ignored them completely, but that's just me.

Lastly, Mark and Nikki (aka Team "What was your dish again?") served a plate of pork loin with sweet potato mash with grape sauce and jus that was just nice. Nothing amazing. Mark called it sexy, but if "sexy" is what you think of when your keyword is "depressing," then you've either got no sex life or a very odd one.

Padma calls out Dale, Richard, Andrew, and Spike. They are the tops, and Tom declares that the squash soup was in fact the best-seasoned dish they've had so far this year. Spike recollects warmly that it was his dear mother who always told him that soup is the best test for a chef. All I can say is that Spike's mom either looks very much like Ming Tsai, or Spike's an inveterate liar despite the entire show being in film (as Antonia pointed out). The judges liked Richard and Dale's teamwork and praise for each other, as well as the ingenuity of the recipe. Dale and Richard apparently both win, and receive $2,500 of Calphalon goodies (each, or to share?).

Dale sends Antonia, Lisa, Steph and Jen to be judged for their transgressions, and the biggest critique is the first. It doesn't matter if you wouldn't serve and don't eat Polish sausage. It was your keyword ingredient, and you need to use it. Don't get cute with the "improv" theme by "improvising" a totally different challenge. On the innuendo plate, the judges point out that the goat cheese completely washed out the orange and (most importantly) the asparagus. The plate was composed poorly, and the showiness and gimmick of it might have derailed the product. In other words, "you surrendered more dignity with that dish and its presentation than we could ever have taken from you with this oddball challenge."

So, what's worse? Underthink or overthink? The judges determine that both dishes lost track of the main ingredient, and therefore resort to judging by taste. With that as the bar, it is Jen and Steph's plate that comes up short. As the primary creator, Jennifer is instructed to exit, stage right. Lisa, in the stew room, looks inappropriately irritated. What's your beef, Lisa?

Richard and Dale are surprisingly touched by her loss, and the three share a big hug. Dale comments after she leaves that she "scared him when she cooked, she was so good." That's a really big compliment, and at the end of this episode, I'm inclined to think that this wasn't a shark-jumping episode at all. While some chefs continued to malinger, others did in fact become a little more human this week, to the overall benefit of the show.

More humanity on display next week, with kids getting sliced to ribbons by Spike, and Mark's announced concern that Chef Colicchio doesn't like him. It actually looks like it could be interesting, rather than just a joke.

Team Strawberries & Fishbiscuits has won the first LOST-themed MadPubQuiz of Awesomeness. And as the cherry on top, I was able to catch a late rerun of tonight's Top Chef, so I shouldn't have to delay tomorrow's recap that much, if at all.

Thanks Phil, Cory, and Ryan for kicking ass with me tonight, and Megan for making the connections.

I was just talking about Restaurant Muramoto and the former CocoLiquot over this last weekend. Foron Rosemary posted a question on TDPF wondering the same, and it got me thinking again.

If you clicked on the link for CocoLiquot above, you'd see the following message:

Cocoliquot Restaurant is closed for kitchen renovations and will re-open as the new Restaurant Muramoto this spring.

You can contact the office or reach Chocolatier and Pastry Chef David Bacco through our email at cocoliquot@gmail.com.

Thank you for your interest and we hope to see you at Restaurant Muramoto soon.

I have to admit that Top Chef is the mistress of my TV habit. LOST is the long-term relationship. And it is with much gnashing of teeth that I will be participating in a LOST-themed pub quiz on Wednesday night at 8 pm CDT.

No chance I'll be back in time to watch TC, but I'm going to try to make my goddamned computer record it (unlike previous attempts at using the GigaPocket, which have not ended well), so that I can try to watch it late.

All this is to tell you that my recap will likely be delayed on Thursday. Thanks to all of you who have made me think that I even need to announce this potential delay.

My fiancee and I try to find something interesting to eat for Top Chef nights, and last night's meal was sushi. I was amused to find a solitary scale in my spicy yellowtail roll, and surprised at how noticeable it was. Amazing, then, that Richard and last week's Team Water are still around. I can't imagine having to deal with seven or eight.

What's even more amazing is that Spike is still around, since he's been in the bottom group of every Elimination challenge this season. He kicks off this week's episode by lamenting the rumors of popular discontent with his presence. Understandably, Spike feels this is because he's so talented; lessons have not, apparently, been learned.

Ryan, meanwhile, worries that people who stew about the way last week ended will probably come out at the bottom. He's gonna move on, whereas Lisa is immediately shown stewing about Zoi's dismissal. I predicted a bottom three of Lisa, Ryan and Nikki this week.

The Quickfire's theme this week is beer pairings. With Avec head chef Koren Grieveson as the guest judge, the contestants have to highlight the simple pleasures of matching a selection of mostly mediocre beers with food. Seriously, couldn't they at least use some Goose Island? It's from Chicago. But instead they get Miller products, the horrible Kirin Ichiban, and only a few noteworthy exceptions? Oof.

Dale notes the same thought I have on my sheet: nothing helps a volatile interpersonal situation like alcohol! Nevertheless, they all get on with the testing and eventually settle on their respective beers. All except Spike, who doesn't drink beer much, and won't even taste any before choosing. That's the spirit, dude.

Eventually, Spike will show just how little respect he has for this challenge by putting out a plate of (again) prepared food rather than cooked food--a charcuterie plate and some clams. After seeing that Mark cannot pour a pint under stress (this is an augur of bad things to come), Padma and Koren set about tasting a wide variety of dishes, from Richard's grilled tuna sandwich to Antonia's miso-glazed cod.

At the end of the table, the judges have selected Richard's sandwich, plus Stephanie's mussels and Jennifer's shrimp-and-scallop beignets, as the top plates. The bottom comprises a schadenfreud-tastic lineup of Spike (Jen snickers visibly), Dale (Lisa smirks irritatingly), and Nikki (the TV audience grins hopefully). The winner of the challenge, and of the week's immunity, is Jennifer. Spike's predictably spiteful response is that Jen must be so proud of winning this for her loser girlfriend. He imagines Jen thinking something akin to "yay, lesbians!" In fact, I may take to calling Spike "Spite" just as an intentional misnomer.

The not-so-lovable losers

Padma introduces the Elimination challenge (with some remarkably bad ADR, for what it's worth) as a tailgating challenge at the upcoming Chicago Bears' home game. Dale in particular is heartened by this; he's been a Bears fan for his entire life, and couldn't be happier. I'm just thrilled that no one in this entire episode referred to Soldier Field as "Soldier's Field." I might be a Wisconsinite, but that malapropism is grating to any football fan.

Football fans do not comprise the entire roll of this season's chefs, as you might predict. Andrew's sport is cooking (Righteous dedication, bra! Wait, is detox a sport? I didn't say that.), Mark has no experience with American football, only rugby (seriously, could he be any more charming?), and Ryan asks if we think he looks like a sports fan. I don't know, Ryan. You look like a frat boy doofus to me, so yeah.

At the supermarket, Spike runs not walks to the chicken wings. Dale is forced to settle for ribs, but one wonders if Spike knows where Buffalo wings come from (and no, not which animal). Dale's choice shouldn't be seen as a second-best protein. Richard wants to do a refined tailgate, therefore naturally he'll be cooking a hamburger (okay, okay, a pâté burger). Lisa wants to tackle another notoriously chewy cut of red meat; didn't she learn from Chef Bayless' glimmering chompers struggling mightily against her steak tacos?

Not all the chefs are missing the boat. Jen's Greek-themed chicken paired with tabouli should go over well with Greek-heavy Chicagoans. Antonia, with her jerk chicken sandwich and grilled pineapple and plantain, confesses to Chef Colicchio that she thinks Chicagoans are merely heavy--not PC, but certainly worthy of the "Superfans" SNL sketch. Nikki's sausage and peppers seems promising, although her addition of grilled shrimp on the side is the dictionary definition of "afterthought."

After a very long bathtime interlude between Spite (like it?) and Mark--and now maybe we see the internal aspect of what drives Spite's external misogyny--we finally arrive at gameday. The chefs are given the choice between gas and charcoal. Now, as a personal preference, I hate hate HATE gas grills. And I cheered heartily when Mark announced that he was the only chef ballsy enough to choose the charcoal. But with this challenge, and with the junky Kingsford briquettes provided by the kind sponsors, I would have picked gas. It's cleaner and more regulatable than briquette. We will see why this is important momentarily.

Another Avec chef, Paul Kahan, joins Tom, Padma and Gail to judge the chefs. The twist with this challenge is that the comment cards from the littles will determine the top and bottom three, and the judges will have to respect those choices when selecting the overall winner and loser. Those comment cards will have a certain weight behind them. In fact, a lot of weight: skimming among the common diners, Chicago Bears legends Richard Dent, Gale Sayers, and William "The Refrigerator" Perry are creating a high wake.

Spite discovers just how much room he has in his noggin when he inserts his foot all the way up to mid-shin, as he tries to engage the crowd by asking eagerly, "when was the last time the Bears won the Super Bowl?" I suspect the head-snapping and crowd silence was not a creation of editing (answer, by the way: 1986. They had just lost Super Bowl XLI mere months prior to the filming of this episode). Ryan's crowd-working skills are gaining him a lot of visitors, but not much respect from his competitors. Steph in particular thinks he's too shmoozy and polished, whereas she just came here to cook.

Andrew uses parsnip--AGAIN--while both Mark's cooking station and plating are complete messes. Nikki, in offering seconds to her crowd of diners, runs out of peppers and onions before the judges get to her station. But no one trumps the off-key futility of Ryan's dish: grilled bread salad with marinated chicken, poached pears, and a spiked hot cocoa. He is aware that this is a tailgate for football, and not the America's Cup, yes?

While the in-meal commentary seemed strong for almost everyone (save Mark and Ryan, mostly), the Judges' Table proves otherwise. Antonia, Dale and Stephanie are called up first, in what proves perhaps unsurprisingly to be the top three. The Fridge and Gale Sayers both gave Dale a strong review, and his ribs with tandoori potato salad with golden raisins and mango are hailed by the judges as a unique and pleasant combination. Stephanie, at the top yet again, wins strong appraisal for her pork tenderloin with bacon and a potato-pear salad with rosemary vinaigrette. Antonia could have done better by combining the pineapple and plantain with her sandwich on the plate, rather than leaving it to Chef Tom to come up with the idea, but I doubt that even then she would have bested Dale, who comes away the winner.

Dale and his newly-won custom Bears jersey head to the stew room to send up Ryan, Nikki, and Mark (I was awfully close!). Nikki's failure to make her own sausage damned her with the pro-encased meats crowd. Plus, her portion control was clearly sketchy and the shrimp was pointless. Mark's mediocre flavor and texture, plus his overall disorder, is topped off by Tom's observation that Mark used the same spoon to taste his New Zealand chowder and to serve it. He dipped, he took a bite, and he dipped again. No alibi for that one.

Mark seems like the obvious loser even after the judges' strong critique of Ryan. Did you understand the nature of this challenge at all, they ask. Ryan defends himself by saying that he wanted to offer a full dining experience. Gail found the whole menu inappropriate for the setting, and points out that his bread salad was very dry. After coming back from the stew room, however, Tom hands out this sobering judgment: even if it had been served in a fancy restaurant, Ryan's dish just wasn't that good.

Pack up your knives, Ryan, and go--oh, you have something to say? Living up to Nikki's stew room complaint that being in front of the judges with Ryan is interminable due to his longwindedness, Ryan doesn't save his summation comments for the voiceover. He starts delivering them directly to the other chefs. What a pompous doofus. Steph gets a great moment in that stew room conversation, though, when Nikki asks if Steph's ever been up there with Ryan. Steph, top floor inhabitant that she is, dryly responds, "No." Awesome.

Next week's ep portends to either be the turnaround point of the season, wherein we actually start caring about and identifying with the chefs, or the jump-the-shark moment of Season 4. The Quickfire fruition the the Top Chef mantra "I'm not a trained pastry chef," ComedySportz with the contestants, and what looks like a nonstop stream of single- and double-entendre sex jokes are all coming our way. Put the kids to bed early!

UPDATE: WMC has backed down from their absurd position.

We regret how our statement Friday was characterized. Wisconsin Management
Company, Inc. takes great pride in our service and commitment to our
residents.We felt it inappropriate, one week after the incident, to discuss
particulars of the lease situation until we had spoken to the families.We have
since had the opportunity to speak with Jordan's parents. After discussing what
the family wanted, we have decided to release all parties from any lease
obligations.

Shame on them for taking so long (wait and see, my ass). At least they finally did the right thing.

*********

Doesn't matter whether you live in Madison or not. Please read below.

from WKOW, News 27 in Madison, Wisconsin:

Sources tell 27 News Wisconsin Management Company is refusing to allow Brittany Zimmerman's fiance, Jordan Gonnering, to cancel his lease of the apartment where he found his fiance murdered last week. The couple rented an apartment together managed by Wisconsin Management Company, one of Madison's largest property management firms.

Sources close to Gonnering tell 27 News Reporter Dan Cassuto the company is refusing to release him from the lease he and Zimmerman signed together. If he is not released from the lease, Gonnering would be forced to keep living in the apartment or make payments through August 2009. Gonnering found Zimmerman's body after she had been murdered in the apartment.

There were so many ways I could have gone with the title for this recap. "Troubled waters." "Boiling over." "Elementary school-yard." (And actually, I really like that last one). But the chumfest that was the last few minutes of last night's episode were far too reminiscent of a feeding frenzy to allow for any other name.

We should have known that something was ready to pop, what with the bitchfest that was the opening sequence. Antonia and Zoi are still bitter about being in the bottom two in the movie/meal challenge. Jennifer, totally uninvolved except for being Zoi's girlfriend, displays a certain subjectivity in supporting Antonia and Zoi's anger. She describes herself as a "fan", which we all know is short for fanatic. Doesn't sound like the most professional way to behave in this competition (and yes, Jen, it's a competition between you and Zoi too).

Cue cooking sound effects, it's the Quickfire, and there's a nattily-coiffed Ming Tsai waiting for the chefs to arrive. Lisa, believe it or not, is actually thrilled with this discovery. Ming and Padma announce that the Quickfire challenge is all about good taste. Spike's hats scream "NOOOOOOO!!!!", but they are spared; the challenge will be to identify quality from sub-par foodstuffs, blindfolded. Where, oh where is CJ when we get a challenge that involves being blindfolded by Padma?

Antonia loves the concept, and for good reason. She wins the challenge (with an 80% accuracy rate), and the immunity for this week. Is this a startlingly brief recap of the Quickfire? Yes! And that's entirely the show's fault. I'm actually of two minds on how last night's QF was chosen and aired. On the one hand, it's a very good test for young chefs, one that might actually reveal something about their food chops. And it's true, no one wants to watch a bunch of people smacking their lips and dipping their fingers in little bowls for fifteen silent minutes.

On the other hand, we've now had almost an entire season (to-date) of short-sheeting the Quickfires. I'd tell you more about who did what, and who missed what obvious answer, but the editing was so rapid, and the selection so incomplete, that all I can tell you is this: Stephanie loses another Quickfire (40%), Ryan and Jen take second (73%), and Padma spills a big bottle of water all over one of the blindfolded contestants. Sadly, there was no Flashdance joke.

As the chefs draw knives (not on each other, yet), we learn that the Elimination challenge will revolve around the four elements of Earth, Air, Fire, and Water. The scene: the Meals-on-Wheels Chicago Celebrity Chef Ball. The celebs will be responsible for courses two through four, and our intrepid cookers must whip up a first course, dividing the 320-person party between the four teams. And let me tell you, these teams were great.

Team Earth is Zoi, Antonia, and Spike. I mean, come on. You couldn't have scripted a better team! Captain Misogyny (yes, he's been promoted) paired with the two most irritable women on the stage at this point? Perfect! Team Air is Jennifer, Ryan, and Nikki. Kind of a snoozefest. The one boring team. Richard, Andrew, and Mark comprise Team Water, and this seemed like a pretty strong contender. Initially.

And lastly, Team Fire. The aptly-named Team Fire, I might add. Dale, Lisa, and Stephanie. From the moment the chefs break up to plan their dishes, Dale and Lisa are locking horns. Stephanie stays, wisely, to the side on the personal stuff.

Each team takes their $500 to Whole Foods, and proceeds to hem and haw and bump into each other and revise their menus pretty much right up to the checkout. Team Fire didn't even know what they were shopping for when they arrived at the store. As it is, they manage to arrive at spicy shrimp, which pleases Lisa; she felt a very strong need to make something Asian since Ming Tsai was a judge. Dale, understandably, doesn't take well at first to being pigeonholed. But he warms up as they shop.

Team Water's bright idea is fish, cooked in water. That sounds good, until they decide on salmon. Yeeeeesh. A fatty fish, cooked sous-vide? Is this not a recipe for mush? And the rest of the team seems to have stars in their eyes about the Willy Wonka dish from last week. Their complementary flavors are a parsnip and vanilla puree, and more "faux caviar" tapioca. Does it ever work well when a contestant goes to the same well two weeks in a row?

The first idea Team Air had was birds. Kind of obvious, and Nikki said so. It seemed at the time like they were going to shoot it down. But when they arrive at the store, what are they looking for? Duck. Cold seared duck, no less. Had I been there, I might have reminded them that this challenge took place in mid-October. How about some warmth? Paired with citrus salad and a pomegranate prosecco mini-cocktail, they don't seem to be cooking to the season very well.

Neither, for that matter, does Team Earth, who--when given such a hearty, comforting, straightforward theme--chooses a beef carpaccio with a mushroom salad and aioli. To be fair, Spike wanted a squash soup, but that got shot down mostly by Antonia's chiding. Spike voices his discontentment (noting that between two women who disagree with you, you can either strangle both of them, or let them have their way...paging Social Services), but I have to wonder: why was anyone comfortable with a dish that features almost no cooking?

Back in the kitchens of the old Marshall Fields building (what, they couldn't say "Macy's"?), Ryan gets frazzled and uses up all the pomegranate juice before the cocktail gets made, we hear Jennifer use the phrase "spot-on" again, and Dale comments on Lisa's "observational negativity." This is an old concept, in case you haven't heard of it. The Romans called it veni vidi bitchy: "I came, I saw, I complained about it."

The critiques of almost everybody are negative from the moment Tom waltzes into the kitchen. Earth prevaricates on who's responsible for what (and Tom hates prevarication!); Air's concept is too undefined (seems appropriate for Air, but maybe that's too literal); Water is overconfident and a little cocky (Richard's schmoozing didn't work the wonders he hoped it would); and Fire's dish seems too spicy. See, I said almost everybody. This is about the last and only bad word you'll hear about Fire's dish.

In the tasting, a clear winner reveals itself. Team Water's sous-vide salmon (again, yish!) is full of scales; more shockingly, they knew about it before they plated it, and Richard downplayed his teammates' concerns. Odd. No one at the judges' dining table likes Team Air's little froofy drink, and Ming notes that they didn't score the skin of the duck breast, thereby making it too fatty and spongy. Earth's boring-ass offering was bland, except for the rosemary that everyone noticed and no one liked.

And then there's Team Fire's spicy prawns. Served with Dale's pickled chili salad and Lisa's miso-glazed bacon, Steph's shrimp pretty much blows everyone away. Hot, but in a good way. Put over the top by the bacon. Amazing. After they finish cooking, they symbolically burn their team placard. Good visual, nice metaphor for what's to come.

So the obvious happens. Fire gets called out first, alone. They're the best, hands down. Tom likes that they each contributed a defined, singular component to the dish, and that they were all very good and complementary. But Ming Tsai has never seen Lisa's preparation of the miso bacon, and she's declared the winner. This includes a five-night trip for two to Italy. Suffice it to say, Dale's team spirit goes right out the window when Lisa wins for bacon ("bacon??").

In the land of the losers, Richard's feeling like he's got no defense for any critique he'll face. Team Air's duck seems destined to get no feedback either way. And frankly, Team Earth is doomed! When Fire comes back to the stew room, and Earth and Water get called out, you have to wonder if it'll be Zoi's bad mushrooms or Richard's scaly, mushy fish that'll go home.

Richard seems mystified by the complaint of multiple scales on each cut of fish. But true to his word, he doesn't offer much in the way of defense. Mark tries, but cannot defend his inclusion of parsnip. It truly does seem like he wants a little of that Wonka magic. But the real fun comes when the judges get to Team Earth. No connection to the theme. Badly seasoned, when seasoned at all. Ill-defined roles within the kitchen.

This is the point at which Spike starts circling just below the surface. He blithely suggests that he would have thrown in a nice lemon for the carpaccio. Zoi, rightly so, looks pissed that he didn't say anything during prep. Then he mentions that, if he'd had his way, they would have done a squash soup. The judges love this idea! Antonia, rightly so, looks pissed that he characterized her as being stridently opposed to the soup. I was just too nice about everything, Spike would intone in the stew room before receiving judgment.

And the judgment is that Zoi needs to get her grumpy buns outta here. They were the consensus worst from the comment cards at the meal, and their dishes displayed no earthiness. Spike, going in for the kill, is first to give Zoi a big hug in front of the judges. End of show, right?

Uh, no. Let those cameras roll, because masks are about to come off, people. Lisa, Stephanie, and--most of all--Jennifer are positively shell-shocked by the news that Zoi is gone. The voice-over from Jen's "confessional" says that they showed they could be a couple and still be professional, but the camera is showing Jen getting red in the face and accusing Spike of "putting [his] teammate in the ground." Spike says that he shouldn't be expected to do anything but compete to win, and Jen counters with what sounds an awful lot like a wounded girlfriend being defensive.

Dale remarks that that's some "weak shit." It is Lisa, of all people, who asks if a comment like that really helps anything right now. That whistling sound you heard at that moment was Dale's steam officially bursting loose. In full crotch-grabbing glory, Dale explodes at Lisa, accusing her of bitching and complaining at every single thing she sees. When he decides to say something--which he never does, by his own account--she calls him out on it, and that's bullshit. Professional Jen kicks a chair, and this episode of Top Chef ends in a way that I cannot recall ever witnessing in this series before. Buzzing, electric silence.

I have to say, as disappointing as the food was for 75% of the competitors in this episode, I actually felt a sense of rising tension as the personal conflicts came to the surface. Next week's aw-shucksy Chicago Bears theme seems almost trite in comparison, but we also know that Dale and Lisa are going to go a little mano-e-(wo)mano. Who said anything about Real World: Chicago? ; )

~~~~~~~~

Again, you can check out thedailypage.com/daily for a new Fringe Foods column, which should be posted some time this morning.

Credit and appreciation to Drew at Toothpaste for Dinner.


toothpastefordinner.com

My food writer buddies JM and Nichole of Eating in Madison A to Z have apparently coined a really great term. Swivel factor. Found first in their write-up of the Hody Bar & Grill, swivel factor refers to the frequency or severity of the barstool spin the regulars do when a newbie walks through the door of a bar/pub/tavern. I say that they apparently coined it because, when I Googled the term, I got a lot of Epinions reviews for computer monitors and chairs. So it's hard to tell.

But I love the term, and I've been thinking about it lately. The missus and I need to branch out a little, and we don't know enough people (sad but true) to ride along on a bunch of coat-tails. So we want to find a spot or two that are new (to us), good, and relatively welcoming to virgins. I don't want to have to know no damn secret handshake to get a burger and a beer.

It falls, then, to you, Madison readers: gimme some low swivel-factor joints that either serve reasonably good food, feature a lot of good beers, or are just good clean fun. We're not looking for the place that secretly circumvents the smoking ban. On the contary, we're big ban fans insofar as our dining is concerned. I'm particularly interested in Mickey's, since they're just down the road. But they're so damn tiny, I can't help but feel that walking into the place when it's busy might incidentally result in a minor sexual act.

For you non-Madisonians, please check out thedailypage.com/eats in the next day or so. I should have a new column appearing soon, this time on soft-shell crab. Come read about me biting into a whole creature, not just some faceless part.

Okay, so I’ve got to have out with it. By some cosmic twist of fate, the theme of this week’s Elimination Challenge was in almost perfect synchrony with a feature I wrote back in March for the Isthmus newspaper’s upcoming Dining supplement. If you’re in Madison, Wisconsin, or have access to the print edition of Isthmus, check it out in a week or two. If not, please trust that I wrote the piece long before this episode aired, and wasn’t trying to cash in on Top Chef.

That being said, I can appreciate the specific difficulties some of these chefs encountered in the Elimination portion of last night’s show. But I’ll get there in due time. Patience, patience, little dears. Everything has to be in order.

The theme of this week’s installment is fish out of water. Odd-fitting combinations. Loneliness. The chefs begin the episode talking about missing Erik, and missing their families and friends waiting for them to come back home. Everyone, that is, except the touchin’ lovin’ squeezin’ couple of Zoi and Jennifer. I said previously that this thread of the season’s “plot” won’t end well. Have you noticed that each subsequent episode has the couple being more and more couple-y? The promos for next week don’t bode well, if you ask me.

Anyway, that’s all well and good for our boy Spike, Mr. Misogyny, but he’s had about enough. It’s too much of an advantage, he opines, for a couple to be in this competition much longer. It’s time for one of them to go home. What a romantic. And again, I refer in advance to the promo for next week's ep.

After being told that they better know who Daniel Boulud is (and getting a tepid, slightly patronizing laugh from Padma), the chefs are tasked with creating a veggie plate that highlights at least three techniques of chefitude. Stephanie was worried about Mexican food last week; Lisa is apparently an inherently sloppy chef, and showed significant consternation about a technique challenge. Nikki, too, is concerned; her plans include a quenelle. Pardon me, but I could do a quenelle. Step it up, woman!

To the cutting boards they go, and Andrew asks if anyone else’s hands are shaking. (No, dude, it’s just you.) Richard is comfortable, Ryan is slightly apprehensive; they’ve both worked with Chef Boulud in his restaurant, and Ryan didn’t much enjoy the experience. Uh oh.

Two contrasting efforts from Spike and Dale. Spike uses a quick-cut tool (he is a tool; doesn’t mean he should be using a simplifying tool in a technique challenge), whereas Dale is slicing up cucumbers and avocados like they’re gyro meat on a spit. I’ve bristled against the Dale/Hung comparisons because I’ve thought they’re more ethnic than anything else, but Dale’s got the same incredible knife skills. For the rest of the chefs, they’ve got to be worried about that ace in Dale’s pocket.

Lisa (Daniel: “it’s back-to-basic”), Nikki and Manuel occupy the bottom tier. Chef Boulud likes Zoi’s offering, Richard’s restraint-as-a-technique palette of sliced and stacked vegetables, and Dale’s “amazing” planning, composition, and knifework. Dale wins, immunity in the bag, an extra benefit in the elimination round, and 2% butterscotch ripple.

I don’t know, I hate chocolate!

Here’s the million-to-one similarity to my upcoming feature. The Elimination Challenge asks the chefs to create a plate for a six-course meal (boo, more teamwork, but hooray, not catering!) that is inspired by their favorite movies. Film critic Richard Roeper and Aisha Tyler (24) will be part of the dining party, and right off the bat, the drawn-knife pairings promise some interesting developments. Dale’s bonus is that he gets to pick what pairing he works with, rather than involuntary number-pairing.

The teams break down like so: Dale/Richard/Andrew: Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Right away, I’m intrigued by this one, especially when Richard references the meal-in-a-stick gum. Perfect for his brand of cuisine. Spike/Manuel: Good Morning, Vietnam. Wow, is this uninspired. Manuel sacrifices of his own skills and interests in favor of mixing it up (what’s that first rule of Magical Elves-produced shows? Anyone?), and Spike just wants to make what he’s doing in his restaurant anyway.

Nikki/Jennifer: Il Postino. A tale of love from a distance, told by—is that a slightly jealous look from Zoi to the fast-friends, high-fiving teamwork of Jennifer and Nikki from across the room?? Antonia/Zoi: Talk to Her. It’s a real bringer-upper about comas, stillborn babies, rape and bull gorings. They’re going with lamb chops. Hello, cognitive dissonance. Stephanie/Lisa: Top Secret. A single entendre-filled goofball comedy. This should be interesting.

And lastly, the most entertaining multinational buddy team since Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker, it’s Ryan/Mark: That Christmas Movie. The one where they eat Asian food. It’s a fucking Christmas movie. Yeah, okay, Ryan finally figured out the title. A Christmas Story. Could it have been more uncomfortably hilarious watching those two polar opposites trying to pick a movie? Ryan: “New Zealand…New England…where’s he from?” Not too surprising that Ryan’s favorite movie is Dumb and Dumber. Not that I’m badmouthing Dumb and Dumber.

At this point, I’m thinking, “I don’t see how Team Wonka and their very solid concept could do anything but win this thing.” Spike wants tilapia for his summer roll, but goes with Manuel on wild Chilean sea bass (trivia: did you know that the actual name of this fish is the Patagonian toothfish? I’d go with Chilean sea bass, too). In discussing the concession, Spike accidentally (?) refers to Manuel as an employee. What a turd. Plus, I’m a little surprised that Whole Foods would even stock wild sea bass, since it’s on the advisory list for fish Americans shouldn’t eat.

Problems inevitably arise, as Mark and Ryan’s hoped-for duck is out of stock. They go with quail instead, and it seems like they’re bound for a sloppy and ill-defined disaster. Again, more emphasis on everyone tasting their food during prep. Is this the lesson the chefs should be clinging to? Seems kinda basic. Meanwhile, Richard’s strange little smoker device breaks in the middle of prepping the finished plates. Oh no! The danger must be growing! Eh, maybe not. They ditch the big puff, and plate with minimal smoking from a simple burning hunk of wood.

There were very clear delineations between the courses. Everyone at the table loved the oddball combo of Team Wonka’s salmon with tapioca pearl “caviar” and white chocolate wasabi, and a pear-celery soda/foam/thing. Chef Boulud called it “surprising,” and the most professional of the bunch. The biggest surprise, to me, was the rave reception for Team Christmas Story’s quail breast and carrot puree. Ted called it his new favorite dish, and there was general lid-flipping all around. Team Top Secret also won praise for their very Asian, very tasty short rib wontons and New York Strip. The thin (at best) connection to the movie was a big negative, but Chef Colicchio called it “flawless” as a dish.

Team Postino’s tortellini and cavolo nero was middle-of-the-road. It was obvious they’d get no further commentary. But Team Vietnam’s food was cheap, simple, and totally disconnected from the film. Sadly, Spike earns a point for his hesitance to use sea bass; the judges thought the flavor overpowered the other ingredients. Team Talk to Her, meanwhile, totally failed to translate their passionate story onto the the plate, which lacked both color and big flavors. The cost of their lamb doomed them to cutting the chops too thin, and the rest of the dish was boring.

At the Judges’ Table, we saw Andrew at his most overamped, as his team was announced as the obvious winner. Tom didn’t want to like the wacky combos, but couldn’t help himself. At this point Richard and Stephanie look like the juggernauts, with Dale coming up fast. But all that momentum means nothing to the sourpusses in the stew room, who are bashing Richard’s method and ingredient choices as they pat themselves on the back for a sure victory. If celery, wasabi, and white chocolate are what the judges want, Zoi whines, then I’m walking.

Walk, my dear! Walk your way to the judges, who have found you and Antonia, along with Spike and Manuel, to be the worst chefs of the night. The ladies oversold their dish, and did a better job of promoting it at the judges’ table than the dining table. Spike and Manuel, meanwhile, were the consensus worst course of the night. There’s no way, the judges thought, that they could have possibly spent their entire budget. It’s an $8 townie restaurant summer roll. Ouch.

However... I am forced to give Spike yet another point in his favor for refusing to answer the all-too-familiar “which one of you should be eliminated” question. He’s a dink, but good for him for not taking the bait. As the doomed teams return to await the results, Zoi continues to rail on Richard while he’s in the room, as if he weren’t. STFU, Zoi. Who do you blame when you’re a brat? Manuel, on the other hand, is smoothly resigned to his fate. A resignation that proves appropriate, since he gets the boot. Both at the judges’ table and in the stew room, Manuel performs quite the dismount, making a surprisingly flowery goodbye speech. Gotta wonder how long he’d been practicing it.

And the aforementioned promo? Looks to me like Spike might be sabotaging Zoi, if Jennifer’s reaction is any indication. Unfortunately, it also looks like yet another catering challenge. Even with the preternaturally charming Ming Tsai at the table, I’m not sure I can take more teamwork contests. So much spotlight on individual talents, so little focus on big-event hors d’oeuvres plates. Wait a minute. Strike that. Reverse it.

It was with extreme glee that I, after learning about the practice on a local message board, discovered that my front right tire had been bled overnight.



On my window was a small, inexpensively reproduced sign.



Now, I live on a very liberal street in a very liberal city. Most of the cars parked here overnight are Subarus, Toyotas, Nissans, and the occasional Mazda. There are very few pickup trucks, very few sports cars, and the few vans are often used in the service of the small natural bakery next door.

So you'd have to understand my frustration, and the frustration of many more people in my larger neighborhood, at having our cars singled out for a demonstration in favor of energy conservation and environmentalism.

This was part of a larger enviro-vandalism effort. I'm not going to link it, but it's called Fossil Fools Day. Witty. Too bad they picked the most conservation-conscious neighborhood in the city to fuck with. I hope the news reporting on this highlights how stupid and self-damaging this little stunt was.

By the way, a couple very friendly guys from down the street had a compressor and refilled at least three cars' tires, including mine. They also helped out a guy who ran his tire off the rim trying to drive to a gas station (whose air pump had a bad coin jammed in the slot...funny thing), and needed to get jacked up to install his spare.

Unlike the douchebags who did the tire bleeding, the guys with the compressor and my fellow victims of vandalism actually helped to enhance the community spirit and create the kind of environment that engenders respect, not immaturity.