I came to a realization today: the surprise ousting of Tre aside, this season is SO FLIPPIN' BORING! Don't get me wrong, I welcome the respite from the foot-peeing, bullying, purple-faced antics of the second season, but I miss the douche-bag screaming, FISHHOOK saber-ing, big face-osity of the first season. Comparatively, everyone's very nice this season, and I do applaud them for being better people than those that have gone before but still…BORING! Like, we're on what? Episode nine? And we still have about five more to go? Ugh.
Today's scenes from Miami include random exteriors boutique and film studio shots as well as teams playing Jai Alai. Oh, and Casey lying out in the sun with one of the Brians. Tre makes breakfast and tells us that he has to stay focused. CJ tells us he is highly competitive and explains how he was diagnosed with testicular cancer at twenty-nine, "At not one point did I ever think that cancer would ever, sort of beat, me." Then CJ gives us the new Best Line Ever, "I've only got one testicle left, but it's more balls than those guys got combined." Is he getting the Cancer Edit? Hung finds a note slipped under their door addressed to Restaurant April and The Garage. It's not an eviction notice, coupled with some Chinese delivery menus, it's Andrea Strong's notes on how the two restaurants can do better next time around. But which notes are they? The ones Colicchio, et al read aloud? Or the ones that went up on the Bravo site, which say nothing about Billy Idol? Meanwhile, my personal feelings of Strong's critiques aside (and they are, uh, strong), I despise how Top Chef strategically hobbled her last week.
"Oh, it's long," CJ mutters. "This is that blog lady," Dale says, cracking me up. He says it with a weary tone of: "This is that bag lady who lives in the alley, pretending she's Holly Golightly's cat." Also, if you aren't Jerry Lewis or the Queen of England, calling someone "lady" is nothing if not dismissive. The teams take their lumps, most of which we've heard already. Howie wonders how an oyster can be a "disaster." "I can guarantee it was delicious," Dale comments. The Garage had oysters? "There's no way an oyster can be a disaster, it just doesn't work that way," Howie goes on. It does when the Red Tide is ebbing and flowing in your upper GI. Or when there's so much sand or shell shards left over from shucking that you treat yourself to a free tooth filing. Sara and Hung both feel that while some of the points are harsh, they need to take the criticisms as guidelines to improve the restaurant.