Isn’t this a cute picture of my Gordon Ramsay? I’m surprised a photographer was able to catch him in a relatively normal moment, as I remain convinced that this season of Hell’s Kitchen may be the death of him yet. I just picture the medics that they have hanging in the back saying to each other, “No dude, don’t go to the bathroom. You never know. Just go in that bottle. Did he have any salt today? Who saw what Gordon ate for lunch?”
So! Not only do we the viewers have this tension hanging over us, but some of us can get quite grossed out by the food being prepared by the contestants. And by *some* of us, I mean me. Look. Have your pork, I don’t care. Just don’t make me eat some too, or watch you cook it. I see you rolling your eyes, but frankly, um … “franks” or any of their cousins make me shiver in revulsion. Therefore …
I had a bit of a personal problem watching The Pork Challenge this week. Not only did Gordon make me believe the teams may have to butcher them. No. That was bad enough. Then each person had to chase a cute little pig around a pen. They were going for the pigs with the *best* ingredients tags around their necks. Like “tenderloin” or “chop.” Ew. I must say, the Husband should get partial credit for this review, as he had to narrate while I covered my eyes for this “pork portion.”
I was peeping through my fingers as the teams cooked up the (gulp) pigs. Here’s the things I know. Only a crazy person would eat “blood sausage.” And the Red Team loses again. These challenges are almost no fun to watch anymore (even when pork is not involved) because the women’s team is just awful. Awe-to-the-full! And putting Scott on their team last week is not helping. We all know a “Scott.” He’s your boss, co-worker, or ex who proclaims himself the best thing on the planet. And then, when he drops the ball, has twelve fingers to point in thirteen different directions. I know!
The Blue Team, with their new member Autumn, gets to go to a day spa. The Red Team has the task of washing the penned-in pigs from the challenge. C’mon! Enough with the pigs already! The sweet things were really scared and running and squealing and … hmm? Get off the pork stuff? Sorry.
The Blue Team has pretty much ignored Autumn until now. After all, she’s just a chick right? Oh no fellas. Read my former review. She’s a conniver! And apparently, she knows how to get to her fellow teammates already. Just appear in a itty bitty teeny weeny not-polka-dotted bikini at the day spa! Presto! All of a sudden, all the guys have done a 180 and are saying she’s cool and all. My, men are so easy, are they not? And Autumn knows it. She’s “Autumn-osa!” Mark my words.
For devious example … dinner service that night. The teams are taking turns cooking and serving. The Blue Team is on the floor first, while the Reds cook. Autumn tells us, and I quote here people, “I’m going to send anything back (from her tables to the kitchen) just for the sake of sending things back, and hope it collapses the Red Team.” Hail to you, Your Evilness! Yikes. It ends up working too.
Scott gets frazzled. Siobhan undercooks meat, and gets it smashed in her face by Gordon. Everyone argues. Maria messes up hush puppies and walks in circles. It’s a terrible dinner service that just leaves Gordon a “f’ing” away. He’s totally perplexed. Why is a simple BBQ so hard for these people? Well, I can actually answer that Gordon. I mean, if you’d ever return my calls! Instead of just leaving me alone in this flat you bought me in WestHavorfordLancenshire. I call and I wait and what do I get?
The answer is that this is the worst crop of possible chefs you’ve had in the history of the show! Where is the world did these people come from?
Long story even longer, Maria gets the knife in the gut. But Scott is called up too. Again. My, for a guy who knows everything, he’s sure not doing very well. Will he make it through part two of my review, or go down in flames? You’ll have to wait and see, won’t you?
Clacked by Tara Shrodes
on Jun 23, 2010 @ 12:00 EST5EDT
She’s “Autumn-osa!” Mark my words. ROFL that is fucknfantastic!
*POST AUTHOR*
Thanks Bronsont! I’ll be here all week! Well, you know in and out sorta kinda.
. . . . .
Criminy, chica:
It’s. Just. Pork. Get over it.
I haven’t seen anyone take flight this much over something since .. since … well … since your obvious swoonishness proclivities toward Chef Ramsey. (By the corollary, my highly adjectivized distaste for tofu doesn’t even come close to your verve against pork … vile stuff though tofu may be.)
It’s. Just. Pork. Really … that’s all it is. It lives with us … it resides on our plates … many of us enjoy it … it’s ‘the other white meat’ … it’s readily available at your local grocer. Legally.
And! It’s not like you have to process the stuff to get the best out of it, either. The entire porker can be used, too! Slice a little fatback and toss it in a pan? Instant base and flavor. Snouts – pickled! Feets – again … pickled! Skins – chicaronnes! Ears – dog treats! Loined … baked … chopped … pulled … roasted … skewered … BBQ’d … baconized … fried … more, more, more: Pig is all goodness. Imagine a world without pork. That would be a sad word, indeed.
Besides, you knew this was coming. Hell’s Kitchen is a reality series about cooking. Going in, you just had to know pork was going to be featured in some form or another.
Look … I understand your spurning of meat and all that comes with it. But if you’re going to go forward, you’re going to need to steel yourself a bit better. Psych yourself up before each episode. Prepare for the worst. Stress ball. Hot wax. Anything to de-dramatacize the ‘un-carnivore’ in you that really, really wants to get out.
Remember: IT’S. JUST. PORK.
In the meantime, keep on keepin’ on. I’m diggin’ the reviews.
And be happy in the knowledge Gordy’s trying to get hold of you. He simply leaves messages on my service by accident …
*POST AUTHOR*
Dear Sir; While it is America, and I respectfully um… respect your right to comment, I must (respectfully) say “Yuk!” Go and pickle anything you want (again respectfully saying)! Look up! I said, “Look. Have your pork, I don’t care.”
I hope next week is dedicated to tofu!
P.S.–no one finds a *hot wax* a de-stressor.
I’m glad you dig me,
Tara
. . . . .
Dear Madam:
Reiterates quotation, second to last paragraph, final line: “I’m diggin’ the reviews.”
You? Only if I had a contingent of rugrats, complete with beach pails and shovels.
That is all.
Indeed! Don’t these “Chefs” have to audition- like on American Idol,or So You Think You Can Dance? The answer has to be NO! These are just some random “posers” they put in front of a stove….I’m almost tempted to boycott this season and just stick with some real chefs on “Top Chef”…yet, like any train wreck in the making, I simply can’t point & click my remote to something else. You’re so right about miss Autumn- I believe she’s on the wrong show shouldn’t she be on Survivor…Oh, Yes Scott- and imagine that he has red hair too….mister know it all- has cooked it all- and does it all so well- continues to push his sad tips onto his fellow wannabe chefs…Sorry the pork bothered you- frankly it bothered me too…yet I can’t help myself I long for bacon too much….As always Excellent insight…my Reality Show Sista :)
*POST AUTHOR*
Thanks Rose, you’re lovely! And watch out for those red haired men. Blurgh!
*POST AUTHOR*
Dear Sir From Above;
You poor thing. Your fantasy of me having your babies and going on a beach holiday is just that. A fantasy. I’m happily married, you see. And I have this Gordon thing going on the side. But I’m flattered. Farewell!
. . . . .
Tara: No fantasy. You misinterpret.
The children with shovels were to bury you in sand.
*POST AUTHOR*
Whatever.