Ted Ilan realizes that Son of Sam and Elia stuck him in a row with the yet-to-board Marcel, and they all make faces about it. Assholes. Marcel arrives at the gate, and my eagle-eyed Head Cheese spotted that he's totally wearing a Point Reyes Original Blue tee-shirt! That's totally awesome, and I'm dying to know where he got it. I mean, I know where to get those tee-shirts, I just want to know how and why he came upon it. Original Blue is such a Northern California institution. Elia continues to badmouth Marcel to us. I love how Marcel's sideburns are now sculpted to a fine Kirkian point.
Oh, god -- do I really have to recap this continued fakery? Okay, so they are supposedly in-flight and we are made to think this because we get stock flying jet footage that is employed every time someone travels on television or in the movies. The flight attendant comes by with a Roy Yamaguchi meal for them, which coincidentally enough, seems to come with a printout of Yamaguchi's bio. I'm not slamming Yamaguchi by any means, because I have the utmost respect for him and his food, but all of this is so very, very fake. Marcel tells us that sitting next to Ted Ilan is "a little bit awkward" after watching the episodes and seeing him "talk a little bit of smack." "A little bit"?? Marcel, you are far too kind. Ted Ilan tells us even with the distance of the two-month hiatus, he's really sick of Marcel. Well, we're even because I am really sick of you.
Oh, beautiful Hawaii. Look at those verdant cliffs, that turquoise ocean. I've never been in such an out-and-out magical place. Fully crowned and sashed, Miss Hawaii -- Pilialoha Gaison -- greets them at the Kona airport. Well, of course she had to be Miss Hawaii, she's got the spirit of aloha in her very name. The cheftestants get lei'd and are guided to a helicopter. I have never been tempted to take a ride in one of those. Maybe it's the airsickness, the high instance of crashes, or maybe it's the fact that I watch too many M*A*S*H reruns and would instinctively crouch when boarding the thing, but I just don't ever want to get in one. Son of Sam expresses some sincere trepidation about the ride, which kind of makes me like him a little bit more. Miss Hawaii waves goodbye, and the cheftesants take off and scream the whole way to Waipi'o Valley. Sam says something about holding Ted Ilan's leg in his arms out of abject fear. Kind of kinky. Waipi'o Valley makes me sad because it was one of our last stops on our way to the airport. Gail, Colicchio, Padmadala, and Alan Wong wait -- all lei'd up -- for the cheftestants to de-heli. Padmadala "aloha"s them and welcomes them to Hawaii. Padmadala introduces Alan Wong as "the Grand Master of Regional Hawaiian cuisine." Chef Wong tells them they are in Waipi'o Valley, a very spiritual place, where the first Polynesians arrived a long time ago. That's funny, I thought the first Polynesians landed at South Point. In the Waipi'o Valley, Chef Wong continues, taro grows in prodigious amounts, and taro features prominently in the Hawaiian diet. "So, to wish you luck and to welcome you to Hawaii, I've prepared some traditional Hawaiian food for you," Chef Wong tells them. But first, they will have a traditional Hawaiian blessing. A haole they flew in from the WWF (Islanders don't usually have facial hair like that) blows on a conch shell. Everyone stands around the table and joins hands while two Hawaiian natives say a prayer in the Hawaiian language.