You should probably get that blind spot seen to, Laurie. It could cause problems when you drive.
I get the feeling that the other contestants like Mike, asshole though he strikes us as being. Marcel, on the other hand, reminds me of people I've known who attempt (and fail) to hide their gargantuan insecurities behind masks of bravado and bluster. The shifty look of panic in his eyes and fixed, forced grin betray him.
Did anyone else mistrust the spontaneity of Tiffany's revelation about the strife on the line? It sure did a fine job of deflecting the attention from her.
later . . . Marcel must be very pleased by what Bourdain has to say about him in this week's blog. Sure, he has lots of criticisms, but there's a ton of praise there as well. If poor defensive Marcel could just screw up his courage enough to let go of his bullshit, he could do wonderful things.
I just had a thought, though: Marcel could head up the kitchen in the snazziest nursing home ever. He seems to have a talent for producing extremely flavorful mush.
even later . . . I may just mutter about this show all day I don't know why so many people are talking as though Blais's ultimate victory is inevitable. According to the breakdown on the show's Wiki page, Angelo is doing the best so far, followed by Dale, and only then Richard. I, for one, would vastly prefer to see Dale or Angelo win, if the contest comes down to these three (and it likely will, with Carla, perhaps, in the final four). I favor Dale but in the end think Angelo is probably the better chef. Blais's combination of arrogance and skittishness puts me off.
Cooking skills aside, I'd love it if Carla or Antonia won, not because I'm rooting for my gender, but because they come off as calm, hardworking, patient, kind adults. They appear to be the kinds of people of whom I approve (though if the editing were leaving in more of Carla's floopiness--to use my family's term for her kind of wacky--my feelings for her might be different). Neither, though, is chefly, at least not as chefs are defined nowadays. In a better world, they'd be tops, and brittle racehorses like Richard, Angelo, and, to a degree, Dale would be encouraged to perform their magic and cherished for their talents but kept well away from positions of power, for their own sanity. Fabio, meanwhile, would be out front, schmoozing the customers and benevolently commanding the wait staff. Though I might allow him in the kitchen from time to time to turn out some gnocchi, pasta, or a fab dessert.
Over the next three weeks, barring fluke (which is impossible to bar, I know), Mike, Tre, and Tiffany will go.
