Finally, we come to the dessert course. Lee Anne explains that Harold's idea was to pair the cheeses and fig tart with the Amarone. A small triangle of fig tart is presented in the biggest compartment of a beautifully designed fondue-esque compartmented plate. Three small pieces of cheese, all in their own individual compartments, fan out on top of the fig tart compartment. Hubert loves the presentation. Lorraine notes, working her mouth rather laboriously over the words, "The cheessse isss deliciousss." Okay, let's see what I can make of these cheeses. There's a flat triangle of blue, which, given the fact that Amarone comes from the Veneto, I think is Gorgonzola (from the next-door region of Lombardy). The blue is also more of that greenish-goldish mold, so I'm thinking Gorgonzola Dolce over Piccante. Especially for dessert with figs. Next, it looks like a washed rind cheese with a fairly pale paste, and if we're assuming Italian, I'm assuming Taleggio? Finally, I have no clue what that very white cheese is, but I'm going to hazard it's so chalky white because the milk is either sheep or goat. Pecorino Ginepro? Because the juniper and balsamic vinegar-rubbed rind would be great with wine? And that's just because I can't think of any good Italian goat cheeses right now. Everyone loves this dish, including Colicchio.
Harold comes out and gets the rundown. Hubert thought the quail was overcooked but loved the beef dish. Lorraine thought the best wine and food pairing was the Amarone with the cheeses. Dana thought the progression was good but didn't really like the bass because there was too much going on. Drew wants to know if Harold cooks to please his guests or himself. Harold says he tries to cover both bases. "Good answer!" Drew decides. Harold is excused.
Later that day? Next day? Tiffani arrives in the commissary and bitches that Stephen and Dave were supposed to be there to help her get her stuff up to craftsteak. Tiffani stands around with her arms crossed, her small mouth being sucked into nothingness. "Well, if being late inspires them to work their asses off for me, so much the better," she decides. Don't count on it, Tiff. Stephen and Dave walk in. You know, that's it -- Stephen is such a weird walker! Either he minces or he walks as though his abdomen is dragging the rest of him along. His entry into craftsteak's kitchen is bizarre. It's like his head arrives as an afterthought. Tiffani briefly asks if they're okay and then says, "All right," shortly. Dave tells us that he and Stephen went out and had a great evening in Vegas. We cut to shots of Dave in his Japanese bandana and Stephen without his usual suit jacket downing drinks. Lots of drinks. Looks sort of intimate. Lots and lots of drinks. "Let's just leave it at that," Dave says. Huh? No, really -- HUH? Dave jokes that they need to taste some of the wines. Tiffani tells us she was happy to have Dave and Stephen in whatever way she could have them, "Hung over, sober, whatever -- doesn't matter. Still drunk." She is really working hard not to be a bitch here, and I give her props for that. Too bad 'twill all come to naught. ... Sorry, I've been reading The Other Boleyn Girl and it's seeped into my lexicon.













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