TOP CHEF MASTERS PHOTOCAP: What A Gas!

Top Chef Masters returned to Bravo last night, and while I most certainly enjoyed the first season, I must admit that my excitement level for its return wasn’t exactly off the charts. I think that perhaps after a season of sourpusses on Top Chef: Las Vegas, I wasn’t totally ready to embrace the franchise and its spinoffs just yet. However, there was nothing else on, and I knew I was gonna watch it anyway; so I gave TCM a looksie, and much to my surprise, I not only was totally happy to be back with the likes of Gael, James, and Kelly, but I downright loved the hour. Something subtle but fundamental changed in the tone this time around. It’s like the judges all loosened up a touch and had more fun. Even Kelly appeared significantly less stiff, no longer seeming like a long lost character from the Gumby oeuvre. Mostly though, I think what it all comes down to is that the show has had a wonderful dose of sass injected into it. Not enough to be cloying, but just the right amount to be entertaining. And honestly, isn’t sass all we want?
I could go on about who cooked what, and who won what, but really, this show is all about the kooky judges, spearheaded by the wonderful duo of James Oseland and Gael Greene. James, in his ketchup red cardigan, and Gael, in her trademark cloche, have this wonderfully colorful way with words that manages to sound utterly informed yet totally ridiculous at the same time. Honestly, James Oseland is probably the only person I would allow to repeatedly make a pajama metaphor without grating on my nerves. I suppose it’s this eccentric, borderline silly vibe that makes Top Chef Masters surprisingly refreshing. Whereas Top Chef has grown increasingly dour and self-important lately, this spin-off seems to just have fun with the food, and that makes all the difference.
Photocap after the jump.

“Um, you are all disgusting slobs. So… YEAH.”

Kelly: “What do you guys think?”
The Bravery: “It was okay. They probably should have seasoned it more, but I guess it’s no big deal. IT WAS AN HONEST MISTAKE.”
[crickets]
The Bravery: “Get it?”
Kelly: “No.”

“I always dreamed I would someday take an awkward photo at a gas station. Now I have.”

“For the fifth time, dude, my name is Govind, not Lisa Bonet.”

“Motherfucker pansy-ass cold dish serving asshole…”

Kelly: “And what did we think about the dish?”
James: “It was like one half of it showed up for prom, and the other half for a pajama party.”
Gael: “I thought it was a very SEXY move. It reminded me of summers in Alsace-Lorraine. Often I’d lie bare-chested under the scorching sun, occasionally sipping pernod from my lover’s navel. Thrice we felt the supple joys of our bodies pressed against each other like two butterflies fresh from the cocoon, ready to embrace the world and all its radiant nectar.”
James: “I like butterflies. They’re much better than moths. I mean, a butterfly is like a tuxedo, and a moth is like, I don’t know, PAJAMAS!”

Kelly: “We have a really difficult decision in front of us.”
James: “It’s like choosing between wearing a suit to work or PAJAMAS.”
Gael: “All the meals were simply fabulous. It was an explosion of flavor, one that I had not experienced since the Great War when I met a young Malaysian boy named Dak on a passage from India. He introduced me to sensations that not even the most potent dose of wormwood could match. My uterus still quivers at the thought of his fingertips.”
James: “Did he wear pajamas?”
Gael: “No.”
James: “Well then sign me up! I give Dak FIVE STARS!”