You had to know it couldn't last. The class. The whitehairs. The international notoriety paired with grace, tact and skill. It couldn't last. At some point, Top Chef: Masters would have to produce a douchebag.

But first, the chefs in order of their arrival.

Chef No. 1: Wilo Benet, San Juan. Pikayo, among others. Competing for San Jorge Children's Foundation. He worked at Le Bernardin, thereby endowing him with some of the afterglow that comes from close physical proximity to Eric Ripert. Benet was the guest judge for the Season 4 finale of Top Chef, which took place in Puerto Rico. So we can thank him, in part, for Lisa not winning that season's crown. Good on ya!

Chef No. 2: Cindy Pawlcyn, Napa. Mustards Grill. Competing for Clinic Ole. Judge James Oseland describes her as the Queen of Napa Valley Cooking, no faint praise. She's a nice gal who looks like she could knock your socks off in a drinking competition. As with many live-tweeting last night's episode, I found myself liking her almost immediately.

Chef No. 3: Ludovic "Ludo" Lefebvre, Los Angeles. Ludobites. Competing for C.H.A.S.E. for Life. Ludo Lefebvre from LA puts the double-L in both Gallic and galling. The first thing you note about this Frenchman is that he's even more incomprehensible than Fabio Viviani. The second thing you note is that his competitiveness is paired with no small measure of ego. I present, The Douchebag.

Chef No. 4: Rick Bayless, Chicago. Frontera Grill, Topolobampo. Competing for Frontera Farmer Foundation. I've never been a huge Rick Bayless fan, but I think part of that is because I loathe his sportswriter brother, Skip. There's really not much to dislike about this well-reviewed, ethnically loyal, former Top Chef guest judge. And dude knows his way around Mexican food, for real.

As the chefs prepare to receive their Quickfire Challenge, Rick cops to having butterflies--or, as they say in Mexico, mariposa--but between you and me, I think he's just being charming. For the first time on Top Chef: Masters, the chefs draw knives to determine the challenge.

Colored blades tell us that this will be a redux of the Season 2 color-based dish challenge. Wilo draws orange, Ludo draws red, Cindy gets yellow and Rick draws green. Two knives left in the block; I'd be really interested to see which colors got left behind. The tasters will be a food stylist, food photographer, and cookbook author whose names did not merit screen time.

With 30 minutes to work, Rick is kvetching a little. He proclaims himself the King of Slow Food--that's not so charming, Rick--and gets to work on vegetables roasted on a banana leaf, with mole verde. Wilo takes orange in roughly the same direction as the S2 winner did, pairing salmon and carrots with edible flowers for, y'know, the chick judges--or, as they say in Mexico, mamis.

Cindy starts talking about women in the kitchen, and it strikes me that this is not the first time we've heard a female chef talk about culinary sexism. But those two women--Suzanne Tracht was the first--were of an older generation than, say, Elizabeth Falkner. So it's no less valid, but maybe more in a historical evaluation than a current one.

Regardless, this woman in the kitchen starts up with sweet corn grits and curried vegetables with tortilla chips. Meanwhile, Chef Ludo "I'm setting back French PR by 60 years" Lefebvre is struggling to finish his steak tartare and red beet gazpacho with tomatoes and watermelon, calling on--who else?--the chick to help! Even her help doesn't keep him from flaming out, as the tomatoes are missed and the servers don't take the gazpacho out with them.

Of course, pouring what looks like blood over raw steak isn't going to win over a bunch of artsy broads, and they weren't looking blown away before the late addition of gazpacho. Cindy's color palette and Rick's complex flavors are impressing the judges, but Wilo leaves the ring mold on his salmon tartare and sweats their heavy handed justice.

He needn't have worried. The judges give 3 to Ludo, 3.5 to Cindy, 4 to Rick, and 4.5 to Wilo. Wilo with the ring on, FTW! (Is "Lucas with the Lid Off" too old of a reference?)

The Elimination Challenge--street food for the crowd at Universal Studios--should be right up Rick's alley; he judged the S4 "class up a taco" Quickfire Challenge. Of course, a twist is requisite in Top Chef challenges, and this one is right up my alley: you need to use a specific piece of offal in your dish. After another knife draw, Rick gets tongue, Wilo gets beef hearts, Cindy gets tripe, and Ludo the Harry Potter Caricature gets pigs' ears.

At this point, let me stop and remind you to check out my Fringe Foods column, wherein I have eaten and reviewed tripe, and just published a review of crispy pig bung. It's a visceral experience.

Self-promotion/whoring out of the way, let me say that I am very impressed with the chefs for what they were able to do with these meats. Offal is big in American cuisine right now, but with such short notice and cooking time, these guys really showed that they're professionals.

Ludo, of course, is as impressed with himself as anyone else could be, saying "I know all zeez things." Eez not worried. The chefs get 3 hours to cook on Day 1, then 1 hour to prep before serving. 45 minutes and $300 of shopping ensue. Ludo decides to do a quesadilla, and then asks Rick about a good cheese for quesadillas. If you're not keeping score, that's twice he's asked for help from another chef.

Cindy picks menudo, both obvious and challenging; menudo presents tripe pretty nakedly, and it normally requires hours and hours of cooking. Ludo accuses Rick of copying him as Rick chooses to prepare tongue tacos (something that hasn't escaped my Fringe Foods eye; there are a lot of tacos de lengua in Madison). Cindy tells Ludo, "You'll do fine. You're very different." That's one way of saying it, Cindy.

Cindy, comfortable with offal, takes the chance on pressure-cooking her tripe with almost no knowledge of how to use the pressure cooker. In comes Rick to save the day (that's twice that someone's asked Rick for help). Wilo's a little in the weeds, having never had beef hearts (again, a protein onto which my Fringe Foods radar is firmly locked). Ludo is running behind--again--and everyone offers to help, particularly Rick. Ludo gets pissy, "Don't tell me how to cook!" Except, y'know, when he wants you to tell him how to cook. Right?

At Universal, Rick is fretting as to how to best market his tongue tacos. Cindy's placard says something about "menudo + spunk," which I think (hope) is meant to refer to the chef's attitude. Wilo is slicing his hearts mighty thin for his chicken, ham, and heart tripleta. Ludo continues to swear as he falls mightily behind in preparing his quesadillas. As the diners are let through the gates, he has precisely ZERO ready to serve.

Dueling choices for Line of the Night, both from the diners: "C'mon Rick Bayless, slip me some tongue," and "I think I can feel it beating in my mouth." I'm going to go with the latter, since apparently the dude who uttered the former came back two more times to repeat it to Bayless. That's not stalkery at all.

The judges arrive at Rick's stand first. That's so not fair to the rest of the chefs. His tacos de lengua with cotija cheese, potatoes, chorizo and bacon, topped with tomatillo guacamole and onions, are definitely a bad breath bomb, but everyone loves 'em. I'm shocked--SHOCKED--or, as they say in Mexico, "sorprendido."

Wilo's tripleta in a pita pocket, served with caramelized onions and a cheddar cheese sauce, has too much topping for the amount of heart, but the texture is good and the heart is cooked pretty well. Very clean to eat given the pockety nature of the pita.

I kinda wonder if Ludo actually fed anyone by the time the judges arrived, or if he just had to clear out the line to let them in. His quesadillas featured pigs' ears stewed in court-bouillionm, then teamed up with chorizo, pinto beans, garlic aioli, and a whole lot of confusion and bad attitude. He talks about technique, then cocks up a quesadilla. He might as well have been cooking with his feet. He clearly lies straight to the judges when telling them he has indeed made quesadillas before. The food is unimpressive to most. Oseland describes it as a grilled cheese with pigs' ears. The cheese is too goopy.

Cindy's menudo is served straight up, with lime and cilantro. It's a cool day in LA, which makes this a very smart choice at least. James Oseland asks about fresh onions, and Cindy has to tell him there were only onions in the broth. Bummer. Jay finds it underseasoned, but all judges note the well-cooked tripe.

Heading to Critics' Table, all the chefs agree (in the mid-break vignette) that the crowd was much more open to offal than they expected. Give 'em a reason to think it's okay (like having celebrity chef contestants serve it), and people will usually try anything once.

Critics' Table held to form with the commentary at Universal Studios. Ludo gets credit for choosing an application that de-scary-fied pigs' ears, but the court-bouillion didn't pay off in flavor and didn't work well in the context of a quesadilla. Cindy gets equal credit for choosing a weather-appropriate dish, but going for "the world's most introductory menudo" led to something that Oseland would later describe as "weak in the knees"--or, as they say in Mexico, "débil en las rodillas."

Wilo's tripleta gets a little more praise at the Table than at Universal, although the judges note that he could have scored points by heating or toasting the pita first. Anyone holding a lottery ticket for the first time in her life Gael Greene needed to utter the phrase, "I really liked the spicy mayo at the bottom of the pita pocket" should report to the cashier. The heart was sliced too thinly, indicating a hesitancy about the dish on Wilo's part.

Nobody says anything damning about Rick's tongue tacos, except that his tomatillo guacamole didn't provide the shot of acidity he had hoped it would. Really, that's it. They loved the cotija, they loved the way the tongue was cooked, and Rick loves tongue--his words.

The ears beat out tripe for the most awful offal in the text poll. Ears are still on my list, so I can't speak to it. But tripe is rough, man. Seriously.

I see almost no way that Rick Bayless loses this, as the chefs return to the Table for their scores. Ludo gets 3.5 from the diners, plus 4/3/3 (jeez, Jay, he doesn't get that much credit for picking "the short straw," does he?), for 16.5. The shocker is Cindy, who gets 3 from the diners and 2.5/3.5/3 from the judges for a measly 15.5.

Ludo's on borrowed time, as Rick earns 4 stars from the diners and an astounding 5/5/4.5 from the judges for 22.5. This ties him with Suzanne Tracht for highest point total so far. Wilo needs a pretty whopping score to catch up, and gets 4 from the diners. However, the critics only give him 4/4/3, for a total of 19.5.

Rick Bayless, the front(era)-runner comes out on top(olobampo)! Snort.

Next week, some kind of tiny ninja or wizard or something oversees the chefs in the kitchen, and Neil Patrick Harris gets fed flaming hunks of bone. Really.

Please, to make it worthwhile, read my latest Fringe Foods article. It's on crispy pig bung.

Although Kristine says the wedding is off, I will admit that it wasn't bad, was kinda good, and has the potential to be really good.

But read. It'll make you a tougher person.

Sorry. That's just how I'm used to anything LOST-related starting.

We're back in Los Angeles, where another round of generally drama-free high-caliber cooking will take place. The players?

Chef No. 1: Graham Elliot Bowles, Chicago. Graham Elliot Restaurant. His charity will be the American Heart Association. Let's withhold the obvious weight jokes; he's got a nephew on the transplant list. Graham's the youngest competitor, a little punk rock (by his own estimation, which MC Lars would probably tell you is decidedly not punk rock). Neither is naming your restaurant after yourself at 20-something.

Chef No. 2: Suzanne Tracht, Los Angeles. Jar. Her charity will be SOVA, a Jewish food pantry in LA. In his commentary, Jay Rayner describes her as a quintessentially "West Coast chef." This means she looks down on everyone else. No! I'm kidding. It means farmers' markets and fresh herbs and simple recipes, silly. She's a quiet one.

Chef No. 3: Wylie Dufresne, New York. WD-50. His charity, touching once again on members of the chef's extended family, will be Autism Speaks. Everyone knows Wylie. Most people love him. Long, dweeby hair. Molecular gastronomy guy--although he resists that appellation. Good buds with Graham Elliot Bowles, he's a frequent guest judge on Top Chef. Graham does not want to lose to him.

Chef No. 4: Elizabeth Falkner, San Francisco. Citizen Cake and Orson. Her charity will be Edible Schoolyard. A pastry chef! After the dessert Quickfire. Typical. Clearly, she has something for Orson Welles. He may have died in California, but he was born in Kenosha, Wisconsin; he was ours first! She's also appeared on Top Chef in the past, and lost to Iron Chef Cat Cora in Battle Lesbian...okay, Honey. In fact, she was Cora's sous chef for a number of battles.

The chefs get their shocks and smiles in -- I definitely like that they don't know their competitors until the see 'em -- and then Kelly Choi announces the Quickfire. Hailing from Season 2, the chefs will take part in the vending machine amuse bouche challenge.

Graham's thrilled, Suzanne not so much. The winner back in S2 was some friggin' nutraloaf-looking concoction (The picture to the right is of actual nutraloaf). The guest judges won't be children again, they'll just act like them: Betty, Michael, and Ilan--competing chefs and the winner of Top Chef Season 2. Wylie is now concerned; he's afraid of running into former targets of his criticism in dark alleys apparently.

The chefs take their rolls of quarters to the almost completely brand name-free vending machines outside the TC:M Kitchen. I say almost, because wouldn'tcha know it, three of the four chefs choose to utilize show sponsor Dr. Pepper. This challenge not brought to you by Dr. Pepper, but it might as well have been.

Wylie, dork that he kinda is, is fascinated by bags of chips. Suzanne is unfamiliar, but knows the names (which we can't see, but she can say) from her kids: Doritos, Cheetos, etc. California fresh herbs, indeed. Graham grabs some lunch, then does his shopping. Remember, no heart jokes. They head back for their 30 minutes of cook time.

Graham makes a tuna salad with lime juice, pickled shallots, and a reduced orange soda with lemongrass and ginger. Wylie turns his ham and cheese into a grilled cheese with crispy ham (the wackiness!) with a Dr. Pepper (AHEM) reduction and sauteed peanuts tossed in beer powder to make "beer nuts," more or less. Somewhat disdainfully, Suzanne plates fried shallot rings in Frito "flour," and a reduced Dr. Pepper (AHEM) aioli. Liz braises some beef jerky in Dr. Pepper (AHEM) and pairs it with orange juice-lemon-horseradish ice cream.

Wylie's running all over the place, showing good energy but terrible focus. As the clock runs out, he's swearing up a storm. He's plated a pretty dish, and Mikey likes it, but the sauce is overreduced and solidifies on the plate. Suzanne's amuse pleases everyone's bouche, while Elizabeth's wacky ice cream is freaking Betty out. Graham seems like the winner, with his "tuna salad that came from an Ivy League school" (Betty) dusted lightly with beef jerky miso powder. But in the final tally, Suzanne garners five stars to Graham's 4.5, with Elizabeth (3.5) and Wylie (3) rounding out the foursome.

Kelly shoos the chefs out of the kitchen so they can bring in some "very special ingredients"; when they return, there's a table full of sea urchin, boar, plantains, papaya, and other staples of the tropical cornucopia. Get ready, chefs, 'cause for the Elimination Challenge, you'll be cooking for the creators and writers of LOST. Dayum! My two favorite shows -- products of competing networks, I might add -- under one roof.

Suzanne's a fan (I take back everything I ever said about her), but Wylie's never seen it. Wylie, your nerd card is suspended for 60 days. Do not operate a protractor until such time as you receive notice of the reinstatement of your nerd card. Since there's no pantry on LOST -- well, actually, there is, but only in Season 2, unless you count the beach pantry Rose buil--heh...um, sorry. Since there's no pantry on LOST, the chefs will have to make do with $200 to shop off of the DHARMA-approved list of shelf-stable items to go along with the verdant bounty of one smoke-monster inhabited, electromagnetic anomaly-housing, frozen donkey wheel-turning tropical island.

At Whole Foods, it's being made abundantly clear that Suzanne prefers to cook with fresh herbs. Wylie and Graham are running around chattering like frat boys; Suzanne calls them "Mutt and Jeff." If a reference to a century-old comic strip isn't relevant enough for you, think Pinky and the Brain. Or Harold and Kumar. Graham hi-fives the cashier as he leaves. Okay, he's kinda cool. But so not punk rock.
He paid too much for those glasses to be punk rock.

Bravo then proceeds to blaze the menus past us so quickly that there's no way I'll get them typed out the first time through, not even allowing for mis-typing "risotto" as "risoot." Things that are clear during prep: Suzanne's very gender conscious in the kitchen. Wylie appears to have almost no plan, nor a head on his shoulders. But he can talk your friggin' ear off on immersion circulators, which might have absorbed the time Elizabeth ended up needing to apply a little more sauce to her plates. Wylie's total spaz-out is worrisome for people (like yours truly) who were of the opinion that the superstar in each round would have a distinct advantage.

The diners are introduced, and there's Damon Lindelof and Carlton Cuse (aka Darlton), and The Writers (no individual credit given, c'est la guerre). I'm absolutely disappointed that no actors were involved in this, but it's for the best: Damon jokes that the quality of LOST has nosedived since Top Chef started airing and distracting all the writers, and Season 5 of LOST was still filming in Hawaii at the time this episode of Top Chef: Masters was shot.

The servers, wearing DHARMA jumpsuits, bring out the food.

Elizabeth's boar loin with ancho garlic rub, coffee-rubbed sous vide boar tenderloin, papaya yam pudding.

-Carlton doesn't appear to know that people actually do eat boar, but despite indicating that he doesn't think it would normally taste good, he likes it.
-The pudding is not going over well. Baby food-esque and confusing.
-Jay points out that the dish is dry and could use some sauce. Elizabeth is somewhere strangling Wylie with the cord to his immersion circulator.

Graham's tuna trio of maki roll with dehydrated pineapple, niçoise with green beans and kalamata olive oil, and coffee-crusted seared tuna loin over shitake mushroom risotto and hearts of palm

-Damon states that he joked with his wife, "What, are they going to put DHARMA green beans on top of gourmet food?", and then Graham does just that. Well-received playful note.
-Everyone is wowed by the execution on the tuna, particularly James Oseland, who hails it as some of the best tuna cookery he's ever seen.

Wylie's roasted chicken with poached egg, banana mustard, plantain pureè and beets

-To Wylie's pants-pooping horror, Jay's plate has no chicken on it. Poor Wylie looked like he couldn't breathe. But it's okay, because a plate two diners down had two pieces on it--there it is! You can stop looking now.
-The egg, cooked in the shell in the immersion circulator (Elizabeth mutters imprecations in the background), has achieved a kind of gel or pudding state. Sounds a little freaky, but that's Wylie. Apparently this egg is a trademark of his.
-Chicken is spectacular, Jay hails Wylie for continuing to cook "like himself" despite the vagaries of this challenge.

Suzanne's uni (urchin) risotto, mango salad, boar strip loin with oyster beer sauce, baked yam.

-This is a Vegas buffet if there ever was one. Jay is in love with the in-your-face complexity and abundance of the plate.
-The writer (sorry bud, don't know your name by sight) who didn't like boar when Elizabeth did it likes Suzanne's.
-Damon: "Magnificent." Carlton: "Hearty." Anonymous writer nerd: "Phenomenal."

So we can all agree that Elizabeth isn't going to win this round ("DUFRESNE!!"). Her weak, kind of passive-aggressive defense of her dish's obvious dryness -- when it was absolutely true that the servers took the plates before time was up -- didn't do her any favors. And the pudding was a misstep, plain and simple. She notes to Wylie after Critics' Table, "I think we were meaner when we were judges."

Wylie's gel egg impressed everyone, as did his slightly more traditionally prepared chicken. Gael Greene's natural suspicion of chemical involvement in the kitchen was overcome by her appreciation for that chicken. James' stated lack of understanding of molecular gastronomy is ultimately undermined by his statement that Wylie has him "under his spell."

Jay is intrigued by Graham's coffee rub. I guess it's a little unusual for tuna as opposed to pork or venison, but it seems totally foreign to Jay. Graham's anchovy aioli tied things together for Jay and James, who loved Graham's whole plate.

Suzanne explains that she brined her boar in pineapple, Chardonnay, and oil. Jay describes her dish, on first blush, as one that needs editing. By the end of Critics' Table, he was crediting her offering as "vibrant, fiery, with a real generosity of spirit." He was about to thank Suzanne for sending her one begotten son to Earth, but they were up against the break.

During that break, we get a positively darling little vignette of Elizabeth announcing that she can make chocolate chip cookie dough in five minutes. This takes place during Critics' Table discussions, and the four chefs whip up a batch of cookies. Cute, fun, maybe a little sacchariney. Just about right for the tenor of the judging portion of this show so far.

When the scores are announced, Graham leads off the way with 4.5 from the LOSTies, and 4/4/3.5 from the judges for 20.5. Wylie, staging a pretty massive comeback, gets a measly 3.5 from the diners but 5/4/4.5 from the judges to fall just short of Graham at 20. Elizabeth, predictably, gets 3.5 from the diners and 3/3/3.5 from the judges. 16.5 just won't cut it. That leaves Suzanne, who ties Graham's 4.5 from the LOST folk and gets 4.5/4/a very hyperbolic and overwrought 4.5 from Jay to take this week's competition with 22.5 stars.

The Bravo producers shoe-horn her headshot into the silhouette of Hubert Keller's shock of old man hair, and we've got two chefs into the Championship Round. Next week: Rick "Don't call me Skip" Bayless, uttering the great line, "What's a French guy know about a quesadilla?"

*For non-LOST watchers, the title of this recap is from Season 3 of LOST, when Jack is brought a fresh cheeseburger on an Island previously only known for natural food.

I've eaten one tuna melt in my life (at Barriques, was pretty tasty). I've never made one. I'm no connoisseur, but I know this was not the template for traditional tuna melt. But christ if it wasn't one of the tastiest sandwiches I've made at home. Ever. And I like to make sandwiches. I do it respectably well.

I used American Tuna. In the Madison area, you can find it at Woodman's. It's not cheap; it costs $5 per can. But open it up and you'll see the difference. Hardly any water, packed tight. Aroma and taste are FISH, not FISHY. And the albacore from American is procured responsibly. No mega-trawlers. No drag nets. Pole caught. And if it means something to you, it's all done by Americans in the US of A.

Starkist tuna (albacore, really) costs a fraction of this. You might think it wasteful or unfrugal to spend five times as much for what seems like the same thing. Again, I refer you to the taste and aroma, texture and low water volume. If you need more convincing, Slate.com wrote:

A new study warns that overfishing has shrunk marlin, swordfish, and tuna populations by 90 percent since 1950. Given the crisis, why does a can of tuna still cost under a buck?

Because the species that end up in your tuna casserole aren't the ones being severely depleted.

As visitors to Tokyo's Tsukiji fish market can attest, a choice southern bluefin can fetch upward of $40,000—a price that makes it an uneconomical choice for, say, Starkist's Chunk Light tuna. That's why big-time canners instead prefer smaller, less flavorful species. Albacore, the so-called chicken of the sea, is what you'll get if the tin says "white meat."

A recent study by the WorldFish Center estimated that, in a worst-case scenario, prices for tilapia, carp, and other low-grade fish could jump by 70 percent, in real terms, by 2020. On the canned front, albacore, skipjack, and yellowfin stocks are generally considered "fully exploited," meaning that a marked increase in annual catches could, eventually, put an end to your supermarket's two-for-a-dollar deals.

(emphasis mine)

How does a thriller written in 2001 by a nice Jewish guy from Jersey get turned into a stylish French film in 2006? Hell if I know, but Tell No One is just that thriller, and just that film.

Seeing the trailer for Tell No One was easily the most valuable and enjoyable part of Netflixing OSS 117: Cairo, Nest of Spies. Tell No One tells the story of Alexandre Beck (David Beck in the American setting of the original), a doctor whose wife was murdered by a serial killer. After showing these events at the open of the film, the narrative jumps eight years later, to the time when two bodies are discovered in shallow graves near the site of her abduction.

Click the links in this review with caution, as they may reveal plot details you'd want to learn as they are shown in the film. I know, I know, even the trailer tells a hell of a lot more than this, but I kind of want to leave this post sparse as to details.

I'll just say that Wikipedia's biography of author Harlan Coben reads: "The plots of his novels often involve the resurfacing of unresolved or misinterpreted events in the past (such as murders, fatal accidents, etc.) and often have multiple plot twists."

The cinematography is great, the acting is clear and crisp, and while the transition from French original to English subtitle left me wondering who was whom among the femal supporting cast, the roles are all pretty vital to the story. Very little chaff in this flick. There are some changes from the original (if you've read it), but even the author says he likes the movie version better.

Watch this movie. Best one I've seen in a long time.

Welcome to Los Angeles, city of superstars, chefs, superstar chefs, and that guy from the Swanson's stock commercial. It's Top Chef: Masters, the first official spin-off of Bravo's acclaimed cooking competition series. I'll be your blogger for this season, as I have been for a couple seasons now on the mothership Top Chef.

This show will feature 24 chefs, grouped off into fours, competing in the familiar Quickfire and Elimination challenges we've grown accustomed to. The chefs will range from superstars of pop culture as well as the culinary arena, to chefs who only patrons of their restaurants and hardcore foodies will recognize. The winnings will go to charities of the chefs' choosing, and the winners of each foursome will be sent to the championship round, to compete for $100,000 for their charity.

Chef No. 1: Michael Schlow, Boston. Radius (among other places). His charity will be the Cam Neely Foundation (cancer research). Seems eager to dip his toes into the Top Chef waters, has won a lot of awards.

Chef No. 2: Hubert Keller, San Francisco and Las Vegas. Fleur de Lys (among other places). His charity will be the Make-A-Wish Foundation. He's the superstar of this week's competition, by my estimation. He's trained the kitchen staff at the White house, he's appeared on Top Chef as a judge, and was a Food and Wine Best New Chef (albeit in 1765).

Chef No. 3: Christopher Lee, New York. Restaurant Aureole (umm, Restaurant What-now?). His charity will be Autism Speaks. Aside from working for a restaurant apparently named after a nipple, Chef Lee is another Best New Chef and also the Swanson stock dude. He's worked with some biggies in the NY and international food scene. Also, he appeared in a number of Hammer Film Productions horror movies. No, not really. But he was Saruman in The Lord of the Rings.

Chef No. 4: Tim Love, Fort Worth. The Lonesome Dove Western Bistro. His charity will be March of Dimes. Both of his daughters were born prematurely, so it's nice that he'll work to do that charity some good. He's also the cowboy Tex-Mex dude. No formal training, not much of a resume--except beating Masaharu Morimoto in Battle Chili Pepper (a fair fight, I'm sure) on Iron Chef America.

I like Gail and Tom chiming in with commentary on the chefs in addition to the chefs talking about themselves. It gives the show a real air of all-star-ness, which it should.

New host Kelly Choi, on the other hand, lends an air of stiffness that I'm not sure I'm going to care for. Say what you will about Padma's mellifluous (some might say vapid) delivery: at least she's got the ability to modulate her tone. That, and she's got some junk in her trunk. As TheStew posted on Twitter last night, "Someone dropped a fork. Wait. That's Kelly Choi." Let's just say, girl's a bit slight.

So, introductions done, it's time for the Quickfire Challenge. Kelly tells everyone that these Quickfires will be riffs on popular QF challenges from past seasons of Top Chef. This week? Banana scallops! The de facto signature dish of Richard Blaise from Season 4 was created for the dessert Quickfire, and this week's chefs will have to match that success.

The judges? A four-pack of Girl Scouts. The kids will rate each dessert with up to five stars, and those stars will add to the total for the Elimination Challenge to select the overall winner. The chefs only get 60 minutes to the original 90 minute limit because, y'know, they're good.

Chef Love kicks things off with tequila shots and egg-juggling, which I think comes with every meal at the Bistro. He's shooting for strawberries presented three ways: chocolate-dipped, chicken-fried, and blended into a faux-milkshake (looked more like a smoothie, but whatever).

Chef Lee is whipping up cute little French toast cubes with caramelized banana slices, on a stick. Chef Schlow has a chocolate cake paired with honey almond ice cream in the works, as well as peanut butter chocolate candies. Chef Keller's working on a chocolate swan with meringue.

It's immediately clear that Michael Schlow has underestimated the attention to detail required of a Quickfire-style challenge. His cakes aren't baking, his ice cream base isn't stiffening up, and he's basically flipping out. Those girls are going to eat him alive! Girls can be so mean! He plates a hodgepodge of cake bits and some ugly looking chocolates, but he ain't winning unless that stuff's got Ecstacy in it.

"This kind of tastes like a Tagalong." "It looks like a Trefoil." "This tastes like a hashbrown." "Kind of soft." These are the wilting criticisms of the Girl Scouts. In addition to Michael's abject failure, it becomes just as clear that Hubert Keller has knocked this one out of the park. He made animal shapes, for crying out loud--swan, mouse with a cute tail, all edible. Plus, the girls like the cool glassware.

Schlow: 2.5 stars
Love: 3.5 stars
Lee: 3.5 stars
Keller: 5 stars

Love's response? "I knew I shoulda done a damn mouse." If I had a nickel...

For the Elimination Challenge, Kelly has the helpers wheel out a cart adorned with a microwave, toaster oven, and hotplate. That's right, it's a dorm room challenge. With a small budget, a small pantry, and an even smaller workspace -- an actual dorm room -- the chefs will compete to win up to 20 stars by cooking a three-course meal for a group of students and the judges. BAD. ASS.

The chefs hit Whole Foods (at night!), and Keller reveals that grocery shopping is as foreign to him as a defrizzing creme. He even loses his cart, old man that he is. Chris is going Asian, owing to his grandfather's adeptness at Chinese cookery. Tim wants to do chili, but the meat counter is out of ground beef. D'oh! He proceeds to offer up the first curse bleep of Top Chef: Masters. There will be more.

In fact, they start flowing nicely when the chefs come back to the kitchen the next morning. Turns out Tim's lack of formal training includes the day they taught the difference between fridge and freezer; he packed all of his groceries into the latter rather than the former, and everything came out rock solid.

They all trek off to Pomona College (perhaps using Tim's groceries to keep the rest cool in the coolers), and find their surprise preparation arrangements. Towels and sheets are set over the bed and chair to allow the chefs to set their pans there. I wouldn't set a food-ready pot on a college dorm bed with a Tyvek slicker bungeed around the damn thing, nevermind shock and rewarm pasta by INSERTING THE SHOWER HEAD INTO THE COLANDER, but that's what Hubert does. But it turns out he's also a DJ in his spare time, so I guess we can start compiling a list of Things About Hubert Keller That Make No Sense.

Hotplates a-blazin', the chefs get to work as the residents of their "kitchens" arrive to observe and taste. Michael chides his student for not making his bed, while himself making salmon crudo with cucumber, cabbage soup with smoked bacon and fennel, and a pork chop with piperade, crushed potatoes and a mache-fennel salad. Tim's lovely co-ed assists in tasting his ad hoc squash and corn pozole, minus hominy -- it's called making the best with what you've got, people -- which will be served alongside scallop carpaccio with lime and chili, and a skirt steak and braised kale.

Hubert's menu features Scottish salmon mi cuit over whole grain mustard, a carrot and pea soup with cinnamon croutons, and creamy mac and cheese (thus the shower head--SHOWER HEAD PEOPLE) with prawns, mushrooms, and fresh herbs. Chris goes with red snapper ceviche served with citrus juices, avocado and popcorn, as well as a creamy risotto with prosciutto and a bone-in pork chop a la Apicius with broccolini and mushrooms.

There's not much time devoted to showing the cooking process, but that's fine. We know they have the skills, we just want to see the results. The chefs follow their courses into the dining area, where they meet the judges as we do: Jay Rayner, London Observer. Gael Greene, New York food critic. James Oseland, Saveur. Some impressed surprise is shown by the chefs at the lineup of judges.

The first course seems to go to Hubert Keller. Tim's scallop carpaccio didn't have enough heat to merit the inclusion of "chili" in the name, while Michael didn't cook at all; that gets interpreted as something of a cop-out.

Michael's massive bowl of cabbage soup dominates the landscape of the second round, and it generally goes over well (it's a party in at least one student's mouth, apparently). Tim's pozole garners praise, as does Hubert's soup, although some consternation is shown at the volume of the cinnamon in the croutons. Chris' risotto is hardly al dente, but still creamy and tasty.

By the end of the third course, there's one conclusion to be drawn from this premiere episode: beware the superstar. Hubert Keller walks all over the other three chefs, with his mac and cheese winning over both student and judge alike. The rest are all okay, but each has its own flaws.

Top Chef: Masters retains the Tivo-killer mid-commercial vignettes from the last season of Top Chef, and this one's good. You can't get enough of hifalutin chefs struggling with mundane things like grocery stores and kitchen appliances. The chefs are shown warily approaching the microwaves and poking at them, like the apes in 2001 approaching the monolith. Hubert Keller's line of the night candidate: "I have one at home and I think it's just to dry the newspaper, I guess."

The judges' table, now renamed Critics' Table for TC:M, allows the three judges and Kelly Choi to chit-chat with the chefs about their creations. I say chit-chat, because there really isn't any judging going on. It's remarkably amicable. It's almost like they're all -- gasp -- professionals!

Asked about his mac and cheese, Hubert cops to the shower head trick -- SHOWER HEAD PEOPLE -- which clearly puts James Oseland off his game. For the rest of the episode, any time it comes up, he looks horrified. It's kind of amusing. As for Keller's meal, there's little else said except that the male judges didn't like the cinnamon. The ladies did, however, and that's all that matters AMIRITE? I feel like we're getting old-school Iron Cheffed, wherein the Iron Chef of the week would get less commentary back on his food, making it seem like he was in trouble when he really wasn't at all.

Michael's meal gets credit for the flavor profile of his pork dish, but chided for its overcookedness. As with the rest of the chefs, he's given a little latitude for having to work with a hotplate that doesn't really get very hot. Gael loved his soup, but the other judges are a mixed bag.

With the frozen food debacle, Tim was clearly in a feast-or-famine situation. Turns out, he made the best out of what could have been a disaster, as the pozole might have been Oseland's favorite dish of the night. Rayner posits that the microwave's defrost setting might actually have been a boon for Chef Love, and indeed he says he used it for his frozen meat. Both the skirt steak and the kale were oversalted, but the steak was cooked perfectly.

Chef Lee called the risotto his "scary dish," and acknowledged that it was difficult to prepare in these conditions. He gets props for its taste, if not its loyalty to traditional risotto. He also struggled to get a good sear on his pork, but leaving the bone in allowed for the retention of more moisture.

The chefs leave the Critics' Table area (lit by those really awesome Edison-era reproduction lightbulbs, made by FerroWatt if you're curious), while the critics discuss. All four chefs get credit for doing so well with such godawful conditions, impressing the entire panel. This is, of course, how it should be with such accomplished chefs. Hubert Keller's mac and cheese and Christopher Lee's risotto appear to be the leading dishes, not coincidentally the most technically fussy dishes to prepare. The critics disagree on some things, but don't get snipey or petulant (except for Oseland's Niles Crane-esque shudder at the thought of the shower nozzle). It's a good panel.

Michael adds 3.5 stars from the students plus 2.5 from each judge for a total of 13.5 stars. Tim knocks him out with 3 from the diners and 8 from the judges for 14.5 stars. Tim in turn is eliminated by Christopher's 4-star student score and 11.5 stars from the judges (19 stars total). I don't know if it's going to go in this order every week, but I hope it doesn't. There's very little drama in that kind of ordering.

Anyway, it comes down to Chris vs. Hubert Keller. Keller needs 14 stars to tie, 14.5 to win. He gets 4 from the student diners to come to 9 total, plus a 3.5, a 4 and another 4 from the judges for a total of 20.5, and a closer victory than his dominance would have presaged.

Superstar chefs: 1, simply above-average chefs: 0.

I'm very happy with this series after one episode, and I think if the lineups of chefs each week is compelling, we'll be in for a treat of a season. Plus, Neil Patrick Harris. So we've got that going for us.

The big show starts this Wednesday, and I will be blogging it. Thursday mornings, right here. You heard it here first.