Well another episode of Top Chef All Stars is in the books and my girl, Sweet Dee from Philly got sent home.  And why?  Because her shit didn’t taste good.  Oh, I’m supposed to recap?  All right.  Here we go.

For the Quickfire challenge the chefs met Joe Jonas and had to make a snack for a bunch of kids at a sleep-over in the Museum of Natural History in NYC.  Fuck sometimes I miss New York.  Anyway it came down to Spike who made weird chips with marshmallow dip and the blocky ginger chick from season one who made liquid nitrogen fuck balls.  I don’t know.

So Joe Jonas could not figure out who won so they have to split into teams and make each dish and let the kids decide.  Blocky Ginger won and got immunity and an advantage in the Elimination Challenge.  The game was that she got to pick T-Rex or brontosaurus food and make a breakfast for all the kids and their parents the next morning.  T-Rex got meat, dairy and eggs.  Bronto got plants and grain.  Blocky chose meat (heh).

Now, I’m not gonna go through all the crap they made, I’m just gonna say that the meat team lost and Padma’s cans almost knocked my TV over.  The meat team lost.  Sweet Dee was on the meat team.  And her and her partner, Jamie the smelly hobbit, highlighted two things that piss me off more than anything in shows with judges in them.

1:  Injury

If you play a sport and you get hurt, when you come back you get your spot back.  Unless you are Drew Beldsoe and you got replaced by Tom Brady.  In that case you can fuck off.  But in a show where the point is to cook stuff and have people judge it, then getting hurt is more complicated.  See, if you aren’t there, then you don’t cook anything.  That automatically makes ANYTHING that anyone else cooks better.  Hobbit cut herself and went to get stitches.  TWO stitches.  I just used two stitches to fasten my sack to my leg just to see if it would hurt.  It didn’t, although I’m pretty sure that it’s going to get horribly infected.  My point is that you get judged on what you bring the table.  If you bring nothing, then you should lose.  It is not your fault that you got hurt?  How the fuck do I know?  Maybe you cut yourself on purpose.  Maybe you pooped your pants cause you are no good at cooking risotto.  The point is that if you didn’t cook anything, gtfo.  That’s why they call it luck.

2:  Smart Judges Become Stupid

This happens all the fucking time in these shows and it pisses me off HARD.  Sweet Dee boiled bacon or some shit and put egg whites on it.  It looked like it sucked and I was rooting for her.  I bid $850.00 for her sweaty chef underwear on E-bay (I lost to a Japanese guy; curse you Ohowa Hijonaki!).  I knew she was gonna lose as soon as she said, in the stew room: “I don’t cook for the people, I cook for the judges.  Do you want to win or do you want to please 150 people you will never see again?”  Well Sweet Dee, the answer in your case was neither.  And here is where I get the problem.

Contestants who are going to say the judges “don’t understand them” or “are wrong” or “have giant boobs” or “don’t know what they’re talking about” when they lose can only do so if they said the same thing when they were praised by those same judges.  See, I understand confidence.  I understand sticking up for your food.  But I don’t understand exactly how you can have a big frigging tantrum about your food when the judges said they didn’t like it.  You didn’t have anything to say when you won challenges on your season.  You remarked on how smart they were.  But then when you fuck up, they become idiots?

You are playing a game.  You accept the conditions of the game when you sign on.  You are being judged, so stfu.  And that goes for all those beat-offs on Project Runway, too.  Damn that makes me mad.

So, to recap the recap.  Sweet Dee made boiled bacon and lost and cried like a bitch.  Now the hottest person on the show is probably a dude.  I don’t know.  The hobbit should have lost.  She didn’t cook dick and only got two stitches.  That’s bullshit; fucker needed to go home.  I’m rooting for the Italian guy now.  I’m also trying to figure out if Padma Lakshmi allows blind pimps to dress her.

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