Back in the MasterChef kitchen, the contestants are surrounded by their family and one-time colleagues, as Gordon, Graham, and Joe stride into the room. "Both of you arrived inside MasterChef kitchen as amateur cooks," Gordon begins. "On tonight's performance, both of you cooked like professionals." In a way, you're both winners, But in another, more accurate way, only one of you is. And that one of you is... Whitney. Because, well, why not? Her food seems pleasant enough. Sure, no one ever really articulates why it's better than David's or what put Whitney over the top. But who has time for such niceties when there's confetti to release and champagne to pop? "My dream [was to win] the title of America's first MasterChef," Whitney tells us, "and I could not be any more happy than I am right now." Sounds great -- I'm sure the cookbook will read terrific in its original crayon.

OK, that's probably a little harsh. But I found the finale a little underwhelming, which is an impressive feat, given how underwhelming the previous 12 episodes have been. Too much artless editing, too many ham-handed attempts to draw out the suspense, and too little enlightening commentary from the judges made it hard to follow the logic being used throughout this competition to the point where most results -- especially the final one -- felt like they had been pulled out of a hat. If MasterChef were a dish and not a TV show, I'd regard it with that cold, bloodless Joe Bastianich-style staredown. This first season? Definitely not a restaurant-quality effort.

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