Relive The Boredom All Over Again
Pouring the kosher salt in the wound, Cohen wants to know why Casey "fizzled out" in the finale. Casey explains that during their break before the Aspen finale, she went home and threw herself back into her restaurant work and when it came time to do Top Chef again, she just wasn't focused. Okay, I've come a long way to liking Casey -- so much that I was rooting for her to win -- but this really does sound like sour grapes. The whole "Really, I was just way more committed my real-life job than I was to some vanity-serving competition" thing is a little too passive-aggressive. Casey elaborates that she is also not the type of person who can come up with the Best Meal of Your Life menu in thirty minutes. She's a planner, a list-maker, and she's one who would think about her dishes, make them, and then retool them. Over and over again and repetitive and redundant and the same and NOTHING NEW! Uh. Right. So, then Colicchio backs Casey up, saying he knows a whole mess of chefs that are just like that. He admits that that neither method is better than the other. Gail wants us all to remember how Casey "killed" that first Aspen QF. Yes, we remember. And if we didn't, because we're STUPID with the attention span of AN AMOEBA, here's the CLIP to REMIND US! We come back to the studio and someone's clapping and yelling, "Yeah, you did!" to Casey, to which Gail inexplicably responds, "Don't be a hater!" Um, he wasn't? He was cheering her on? So, Gail, with the lingo you acquired by passing through a few websites? You look kinda stupid. ["And when did she pass through them -- 2003?" -- Sars]
Cohen asks if anyone has a few regrets. Howie does. He wishes he had handled some situations differently, especially now that he's gotten to know his fellow cheftestants better and on a different level. Aw, that's nice of him. Christ. Now we have to wade through these "Joe Blow from Anytown, State" questions that were "written in" to Bravo's site. Some chick wants to know about Howie's unique way of salting his food with the sweat of his brow and wonders if he's ever tried, you know, a bandana or some such. Howie defends himself by saying that in his normal work environment, he doesn't get that sweaty, so he really didn't expect that sort of bodily reaction just from working his tail off in a hot kitchen in a hot city in the middle of a hot summer. "The food was always seasoned!" Colicchio shouts, jokingly. Howie forces a smile. "You guys ate it!" Brian yells out, and someone asks if it was "extra salty." Colicchio shakes his head, smiling, and says it really wasn't. Another writer-inner wants to see some sex stuff happening between CJ and Casey, and asks if there's "any chance that these two Top Chefs would take a chance with romance." Are all these writer-inners addicted to small-town agony columns? Because the Seventeen magazine rhyming scheme really needs to go. And if that's actually Bravo trying to finesse the questions, just stop it. Casey makes a half-disgusted, half-shocked face and looks up at CJ. "Um," CJ says, "absolutely -- I mean, what do you think, babe, wanna go for this?" Ah, poetic romance. "You guys should make out!" Ted Allen screams. See, then Ted could use the distraction to sample Dale's decadence. With difficulty, Casey explains that the majority of the "tension" between her and CJ comes from him doing weird stuff like unbuttoning his shirt, posing around, and asking things like, "'So, what do you think for the show? Should I Hasselhoff it or not? What do you think? Am I hassling the Hoff?' and I'm like, 'Gross.'" Hee! "But like gross in a good way!" CJ insists, "Like, 'Heeeey, GROSS!'" Looking at him, Casey smiles, "No." And then she pats his leg apologetically. Awesome. I totally thought Casey wanted him, but clearly not. Meanwhile, I'd say it doesn't matter because CJ has Padma, but really, he can't afford Padma.