Top Chef sad times

This is a little embarrassing, but I had one of those moments this morning when you wake up and feel fine for about three seconds until you remember something really bad that happened the day before. Like, say, breaking up with your boyfriend. Or your dog dying.

Except it was about Jamie Lauren getting kicked off Top Chef.

Despite the producers trying to paint her as this season’s Evil Lesbian Chef, she was too talented and well-respected by her peers (and the judges) to fall into that role, for which you have to be mediocre and, well, evil. I loved the clean flavor combinations she presented each week, and I loved that she was able to make decisions when the situation called for it, and I loved that she acknowledged her competitiveness without being an asshole.

And I loved that she had an arm covered with lotus and orchid tattoos. How cool is that?

But mostly, I am just sad about what these last Top Chef episodes will bring. Stefan, the best chef left in the competition and the one I have a crazy crush on, said it best:

She is by far one of the most creative chefs I have met. She was my biggest competitor on the show. She is fun, and has the sweetest smile and laugh on the face of the earth. And yes, Jamie is that chef I want to cook against in the finale. Boring without her.

Boring, indeed.

(Sigh.)

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7 responses to “Top Chef sad times

  1. This is why I don’t watch reality shows, no matter how high quality – I get too emotionally invested. I do like her tattoos. Chris would probably love this show, no?

  2. I know, right? I’m embarrassed by how bummed last night’s episode made me… but not embarrassed enough to be quiet about it. I’m hoping sharing my grief will help me heal. (Cough.)

    Chris might like it, yeah–He would probably do a much better job than I do of “tasting” the food in his head. Though I’d argue that last year’s season had more interesting dishes. Jamie and Stefan were the only ones with food that got me at all interested, and now Jamie’s gone.

    Boo!

  3. I cannot watch reality shows because I know I will get hooked. They are addictive. I usually end up watching the ones on BBC America, that only invest you in a person/family for one episode, like ‘What Not To Wear’ or ‘How Clean Is Your House?’ or ‘ You Are What You Eat’. They follow a single person or family for a few weeks or months but they are only shown for one episode. Usually they are all some type of makeover show, whether it be wardrobe, house, body, etc. I was obsessed with ‘Ground Force’ for awhile but then they suddenly stopped airing it. BBC America has a habit of doing that, which is why many British shows take up space on my dvr because I’m afraid they’ll go away and never come back and will only be released on dvd in region 2. Anyway, ‘Ground Force’ was awesome. Basically, they redo someone’s garden in 2 days as a surprise, while the husband/wife keeps them away from the house, usually over a weekend. Whether or not they will finish in time and whether the person being surprised will not accidentally come home too soon is a big part of the tension of the show, tension which is released when the surprised loved one cries and marvels at the thoughtfulness and the beautiful water features and new lawn (the gardens they redo are invariably little more than trash heaps at the start. I often think these people don’t deserve the garden makeover, but rather some little old lady who tries to keep up her garden but can’t because she can’t afford the expensive and exotic flowers Charlie Dimmock brings in. And she’s probably got a bad knee/hip/back and can’t kneel/crouch/bend. You see how emotionally invested I get, and that’s not even the people on the show, but an old lady I made up.). Anyway, the one episode works better for me emotionally, as well as schedule-wise, since I often am behind in my viewing (a lazy habit I picked up once the dvr started automatically recording shows for me) and will read so-and-so got kicked off and I haven’t even watched the two episodes leading up to that one yet.

    I’m sure you are totally interested in my reality tv viewing habits.

  4. I had a reply formulated in my head, but it completely went away once I read the term “celesbian” in your related links.

    • Yeah, dude.
      How come I didn’t come up with that? I’m disappointed in myself.

      Aimee, I know what you mean about the getting too attached (obviously). And I love What Not to Wear, though I have never seen the British version… are they snarkier? Cause, you know, British people are, like, always snarky and shit, right?

  5. I’ve never watched the American version before but the Brits, Trinny and Susanna, are pretty snarky and merciless. They do have heart, as well, I give them that, but only if you follow what they say. (Fun aside, Gordon Ramsey raises animals in his back garden to later slaughter to teach his kids about where their food comes from; last year he had two pigs and named them Trinny and Susanna. Though he did cry when they were slaughtered.) What I hate about that show is that comfort is not an option – you wear this, you hide your fat gut & short legs and you feel unbearably uncomfortable AND lose your own personal sense of style. But hey, at least you look less fat. Heels are always a must, always. And that right there is where I mentally tune out. I’ll never wear heels, except maybe on special occasions, but even then I resent it. It’s the modern form of foot-binding, in my opinion, and the fact that women clamor to pay $500 per pair (and up!) says something fucked up about society, to me at least. And though they do look pretty and sexy and add height to short people like me, I hate them on principal alone. Like I said, special occasion, fine, but for everyday wear with jeans and such, fuck that!

  6. hehe…
    I love What Not to Wear. My favorite place to watch it is at the gym, on the treadmill. Which just adds a whole other level of psychological fuckwittage to it, when you think about it.

    I used to be a pretty hard-core heel hater, too, but I’ve converted in the past couple years. Sort of. I have what I call the “one-mile rule”–I only wear them if I can walk a mile in them comfortably (actually comfortably, not “this isn’t so bad for walking in heels” comfortably). This is partly because I am vain and refuse to wear running shoes to work and switch into heels when I get to the office.

    (I just accidentally type “hells”… Freudian slip?)

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