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the editing whether it is a good sour like sour cream or a bad sour like dead dreams. Kelly has a spiced raspberry and chocolate ganache tart which looks like a plate of deliciousness and Johnny Iuzzini totally hits on her on national (albeit cable) television by mentioning that she has a great emulsion. Dude! She's married! But you know those demi-gods: no morals and bad taste. What? She's a smoker. It'd be like kissing an ashtray. Arnold gives the judges a kalamansi and key lime pie parfait with Korean soju. What the heck is a kalamansi? Here's the vegetation profile. Basically it looks like a lime, smells like an orange, and tastes like a lemon. Padma grills him about the green herb and Arnold replies, "It's mint?" He says it like a question, because he knows it is mint, but is worried that Padma will correct him anyway. She nods, glares, and moves on to Angelo's sweet potato pie with curry spices and an undercurrent of hostility. Also, crumb crust. Tracey's blueberry-almond crunch pie looks as sad as ever and because she didn't bother adding any thickener it is weeping blueberry tears. I'm sure that was the intended effect. Tiffany offers a rather tame peach cobbler with cornmeal crust and buttermilk-lemon crème anglaise. Cooking instructor Lynne's mango pie with basil and vanilla crust is greeted almost mutely, but the judge's real derision is saved for Ed's banana cream pie with salted peanuts and celery spuma. So, what the hell is a SPUMA? According to wiktionary, it's a foam, froth or slime, which kind of sounds like a kill, fuck, or marry situation for a chef. I mean you can get away with a foam or a froth, but if your spuma comes out as a slime? I don't even think Marcel could pull off a slime and Ed? You are no Marcel. Also, it sounds like a symptom of an STD. As in: "I knew that toilet bowl was skanky, so when I saw spuma coming out of my vajayjay, I headed straight to Planned Parenthood." But Ed wants us all to pretend that his grandma used to make this dish, more or less. Gail -- being possibly awesome to hang out with, although far more possibly incredibly fucking annoying what with her Padma inferiority complex and wannabe smartass smart girl thing -- coyly asks how his spuma compares to his grandma's spuma and snaps a Z in the air. Ed throws down his whisk, puts up his dukes, and demands, "How dare you talk about his grandma like that!" and then remembers it was his stupid word in the first place and fake laughs, "Ha ha?" Alex made a white chocolate, tapioca, and chevre pie, but with the addition of an egg, it's more like a quiche and, well, real man or not, no one wants to eat a white chocolate quiche. Johnny Iuzzini tenderly puts his arm around Gail and leads her away from the pietastrophe. The results are in! The losers? Alex with his revolting tapioca quiche, Tracy with her too thin piecrust and weepy blueberries, and, of course, Ed. Because no one wants to admit that spuma exists. It's the embarrassing secret of the pastry world. Ed shakes his head in confusion. How could this happen to him? How????!!!! The winners? Kelly with her simple raspberry chocolate tart and comehither eyes. Also a winner? Stephen and his curried apple surprise. The big winner? Kenny and his bananas foster five spice concoction. Kenny acknowledges his win not with hoots, hollers, or high fives, but with a solemn head nod and a "Suck it, Angelo" smirk.