Amuse-Biatch and the Issue of Prejudgment Interest

Oh, possums, how our nonexistent little hearts have fluttered for weeks each time we heard the Bravo announcer jauntily intone, “From the producers of Top Chef….”

It’s just the sort of clarion call to which our hearts have previously responded. Indeed, who among us hasn’t experienced an expectant swoon upon hearing, “From the makers of Metamucil” or “From the producers of White Chicks”?

And so it is with great delight that we awoke today, knowing that tonight is the premiere of I’m a Celebrity Chef (I Wish!), Get Me Out There….

Ah, just a minute, possums, Miss XaXa is pointing to the press release and mouthing something. It appears the show is actually called Top Chef Masters.

Dang it, we think there ought to be a colon in there, the way there has been for Top Chef: Miami, etc. After all, without the colon, the show’s title seems redundant (if they’re top chefs, they’re also masters, n’est-ce pas?) or misleading (if they’re supposed to be the masters of Top Chef, then that arguably means only Harold Dieterle, (God spare us!) Ilan Hall, Hung Huyhn, Stephanie Izard, and, ahem, Hosea Rosenberg). And so, for as long as we’re blogging the show, we’re going to call it Top Chef: Masters. (See, possums? 90 days have not done away with our streak of pedantry.)

Not having seen the show, we will, for the next several hours, withhold judgment. We will admit, though, that there are troubling signs. The reviews we’ve read have focused on what a kinder, gentler version of Top Chef this is. No liquor, no bunk beds, no nookie, oy vey. Indeed, the New York Daily News refers to Top Chef: Masters as a “wade in the kiddie pool” (and means it as a compliment!). What has the world come to?

As for the replacements for Tommy, Pads, and the gang, well, we will know in due time (though we think it most unsporting and, again, potentially misleading, that the original teasers for Top Chef: Masters contained no indication that the Gang of Four would not be back in their roles). We will say this, though, based on the video below. Kelly “Padma Lite” Choi seems far too nice for the job. Dare we say we will miss the Pads, who can go from cannabimbo to ice princess in the flip of her Pantene’d locks? (Hey, we’re not knocking her Pantene gig; how else are you going to wash the smell of a Carl’s Jr. burger out of your hair?)


Apparently, Top Chef: Masters will be a “tournament-style” competition (we’re told by reliable jocks that this has something to do with the sports world) in which the 24 chefs (some of whom actually qualify for the title of “master”) will do their darnedest to score some scratch for charity while trying to prevent their (in some cases incipient) television careers from taking a hit. With that in mind, we have as of now established but one ground rule: We will not make fun of anyone’s chosen charity. Not, of course, because we’re incapable of it, but, rather, because who the hell wants to tickle the bony ankles of bad karma In Times Like These? As for everything else, it’s fair game. Gird your loins, luvs.

The Laws of God, the Laws of Man, or the Laws of Reality-TV Audience Morality: Just Which Laws Did Leah Cohen and Hosea Rosenberg Violate?

The titular question, possums, is one that has long puzzled us.

Indeed, we thought it most peculiar that Hosea’s “apology” to the masses should have begun thus:

First things first: None of us signed any contracts forbidding contact with the other cheftestants. We did not break any rules.

Uh, first things first. Let us state our belief and opinion, based on the text itself, that the Eliot Spitzer-worthy “apology” was overseen by publicists and/or lawyers. Because, of course, when you cheat on your boyfriend or girlfriend, the first concern that comes to mind is whether the cheating was in breach of a legal contract.

Also, notice how no “apology” from Leah was issued under the aegis of Bravo. Ah, those double standards. Of course, as her exit interviews with various publications show, Leah did not take kindly to being portrayed as a clingy Jezebel. But it’s more than that. It’s called damage control and rehabilitation. You will notice, of course, that when the “apology” was issued, on January 23, 2009, Hosea was already guaranteed a spot on the finals, in which he is the best hope of beating Stefan Richter for the title. In this not-so-epic Baldo a Baldo contest, it is Stefan who is supposed to be the villain, not stolid-Mennonite-farmer-from-the-West-cum-skaterboy-led-astray-by-Asian-Jewish-temptress-from-the-big-city-of-New-York Hosea. Indeed, by January 23, the finale had already been filmed in New Orleans, and who knows what, if anything, the “apology” means about who won.

But revenons à nos moutons.

“Hosea” says, “We did not break any rules.”

And yet consider these various bits, possums.

• In August 2007, New York Magazine published a cover story titled, “The Near-Fame Experience of Being a Bravo Reality Star.” The tidbit that grabbed most people’s attention was this: “The contestants on Bravo shows are not allowed money, credit cards, cell phones, newspapers, magazines, televisions, or Internet access….They can’t even have sex with one another to pass the time. (An STD could result in a lawsuit—unlike hookup reality shows, the contestants aren’t tested beforehand for communicable diseases.)”

• The day after publication of the article, Andrew “Raggaydy Andy” Cohen, Bravo Senior VP of Production and Programming, wrote the following on his Bravo blog: “I feel pretty great that under our watch, you ain’t allowed to ‘do it’ with another contestant. We’re not the ‘Real World’ and we’re not checking for STD’s and we’re just not in that game. If Tabs [Shear Design contestant Tabatha] gets herpes from another hairstylist that I helped cast, how am I gonna sleep at night!? Design all the dresses you want, but screw on your own clock. Or sign up to be on ‘Temptation Island’.”

And yet exactly a year later, August 2008, when the New York season of Top Chef is filming, it is no longer against the rules? Is it that, à la Bill Clinton, only penetrative vaginal intercourse is prohibited? (Although remember how coy Wesley Nault and Daniel Feld were on the last season of Project Runway regarding when their romance began and what they did about it while they were on the show?)

Notice, again, the careful wording of the Hosea “apology”: “None of us signed any contracts forbidding contact with the other cheftestants.” Well, “contact” is a little vague, ain’t it? After all, according to The New York Post, Wesley and Daniel “broke show rules by communicating with each other the day after the elimination. Nault passed Feld a note, and Feld gave Nault a silver bracelet.” Ah, well, perhaps swapping spit is better than swapping notes and jewelry.

Possums, it just doesn’t make sense. What continues to irk us, though, is the double standard. To the extent they are guilty of anything, Hosea and Leah are equally guilty. And yet the masses aren't baying for Hosea’s blood. He makes a lame-ass politician’s apology, and goes on his gap-toothed, xenophobic way to the finals, while thousands cheer as the clingy tramp is sent home. ‘T ain’t right, we say. Yes, we know the world was ever so, but come on, this is Bravo, for immorality’s sake.

Perhaps people care so much because this was the first acknowledged romance in the history of Top Chef (although we are intrigued by the rumors we have read of another couple of heterosexual team mates on this season going at it when the camera crews had left for the night; maybe Leah and Hosea were just unlucky in getting caught by the cameras). Even so, Leahosea can’t hold a candle to the seething, roiling, head-shaving, watersporting, self-hating, homoerotic folie à deux that was Marcilan (the Marcel Vigneron-Ilan Hall pairing in Season 2, which was to Jean Genet as Cruel Intentions is to Dangerous Liaisons, or 10 Things I Hate About You is to The Taming of the Shrew).

Amuse-Biatch Guessing Game: The Lee Anne Wong Blind Item

Well, possums, we’re always suckers for a guessing game, and Season 1 contestant and Top Chef culinary producer Lee Anne Wong has a nice and not too taxing one in an interview she did with Zagat (though we must say she looks awfully thin in the accompanying photograph; don’t go overboard now, Lee Anne). Aside from taking the blame for last season’s Scallopgate (just how many people are going to fall on their sword over this?), Lee Anne drops this little bit:

I always tell the smart [cheftestants] to remember that the cameras are always rolling. Top Chef is a stepping-stone and an opportunity to find out the blood and guts of yourself as a cook, and also who you are as a person. The ones who listen to what the judges have to say and move forward usually have a better chance of keeping in the public’s good favor. Every now and then you get a contestant who believes too much in their own hype, and then they self-implode. It’s up to you to figure out who I’m talking about….

So, possums, whom do you think she means? Guess away in the comments section.

“But Officer, It Was Just Beer Foam!”: Marcel Vigneron Arrested on Suspicion of Drunk Driving

Oh dear, possums.

Well, frankly, we're shocked that it took four seasons for anyone from Top Chef to be arrested, and even more shocked that it should have been Marcel Vigneron. We just assumed that it would be Ilan Hall.

Marcel had appeared at a gala for the Pageant of the Masters on Saturday and was arrested after midnight by the Laguna Beach police. Surprisingly, it seems he returned hours later to give a cooking demonstration at the Festival of Arts. It remains to be seen whether Marcel will take the (awkward) rap; we will keep you updated and supplied with bad puns.

Fun with Semiotics: New York Post Provides Visual Key to “Top Chef” Season 2

A Noticeably Thinner Tom Colicchio on How to Outrun a Bear (Reputation)

We must confess, possums, that we are relieved our eyes are not deceiving us (always an issue when one's eyes are bigger than one's mouth). For some time now, at least since last year, we have noticed that Tom Colicchio has become less loveable--that is, there is less of him to love.

And now, Salon.com brings us the crushing realization that we might be ever so slightly responsible:

I have to ask you how you feel about being what's known in the gay community as a bear.

Whatever! [Laughs] It's fine. I'm very comfortable with my sexuality.

How did you find out about your status there?

You get little rainbow-colored bear things. They just show up in your mail one day, and you know you're an honorary member. No, you know, I read the blogs. It's kind of funny. I think my wife found it one day. She e-mailed me and said, "Tom, guess what? You're an honorary bear!"

Did you know what that was?

Yeah, I knew what it was. I'm in the restaurant business. I've got plenty of gay friends. I get a kick out of it. But I took it as someone saying, "You need to lose weight." I started running after that.

Poor Tom. And oh the irony of it. The bear movement was in part supposed to tackle the crippling body fascism that plagues the Gays, but in Tom's case it has had the opposite effect. And to think we might have been unwitting agents of Muscle-leanies' Black-Teeshirts! Oh the shame of it! So, for the record--Tom, possum, we were not calling you fat.

And possums, do read the rest of the interview, where Tom pegs Ilan Hall as "immature" and discusses the pressure (or lack thereof) to crown a female Top Chef.

With Friends Like These: Amuse-Biatch Presents the New Obama Girl

Photoessay: “If I Keep My Head Down, Maybe He’ll Go Away; Besides, I Already Look Like I Shaved My Head, and Bisexual Hung Has a Full Head of Hair”

Amuse-Biatch Asks Alanis Morissette a Rhetorical Question

Hey, Alanis, is it just us, or is it a teensy bit ironic that the one show on which Sam "Not That Guy" Talbot serves as a guest judge is the show where a cheftestant expresses a fear of being assaulted? Granted, possums, it's not like rain on your Wedding Wars, but we still wonder.