During a discussion at the Food Network's recent New York City Wine and Food Festival, author, "No Reservations" host and professional leather jacket wearer Anthony Bourdain asked his fellow panelist, culinary wunderkind Chef David Chang, "Who chaps your ass?" Chang was quick to rake Guy Fieri over the coals, citing his "douche glasses," and "stupid f***ing armband," and went on to ask a gleefully obliging Bourdain to "catch me and kick me in the ass" should he ever find him similarly adorned. Chang went on to add, "I'm sure he's a swell fella." The crowd went wild.
Not 24 hours later, a "Saturday Night Live" skit portrayed the "Next Food Network Star" winner being pecked to death by birds.
So why are the cool kids picking on Guy?
I want to go to a party at Food TV superstar Guy Fieri's house. I imagine pyramids of glistening pork ribs and snow shovels full of hush puppies. I dream of patiently standing in line by the pool waiting for margaritas to be blasted into my open mouth by a fire hose while AC/DC blares over the loudspeaker.
You know what you're going to get with this dude. He's fun, entertaining and totally lacking in subtlety -- a one-man tailgate upon which nary a Michelin star shines. His contribution to the tired fusion trend was to awkwardly pair barbecue with sushi. He is who he is; now buy a book.
Martha Stewart says her five-month prison sentence cost her $1 billion.
Speaking with "Nightline," Stewart says the "legal mess" was devastating to her personal worth.
"Oh, it's inestimable -- probably more than a billion dollars, of course, and if you add in what the company was worth, absolutely," Stewart says. "And I'm a major shareholder in the company. When you are prosecuted in such a way and a great portion of wealth is dissipated, all I could think so much is 'What I could have done with all of that for the good of mankind?'"
"Nightline" followed Stewart for a day in a news piece that aired Thursday. In it, Stewart dishes on Rachael Ray as well as her 2004 legal troubles.
"I knew we had a really good thing going, and I really knew that I was not guilty of anything that could possibly harm my company," Stewart tells Cynthia McFadden. "I was pissed, OK? Pissed that something could actually affect that. The company had nothing to do with anything, but yet because I am the face and the brand -- my person -- it certainly had a harmful effect."
She says she's put that period of her life behind her.
"How can I kick myself?" she says. "There are other people to be kicked. Enough. Let's get on with the future."
Martha Stewart draws a stark contrast between her kitchen skills and those of Rachael Ray and surprisingly, Ray completely agrees.
Speaking with ABC's "Nightline" in an interview to air Thursday night, Stewart says what Ray does isn't good enough for her.
"To me she professed that she cannot bake," Stewart says of Ray. "She just did a new cookbook which is just a re-edit of a lot of her old recipes, and that's not good enough for me. I really want to write a book that is a unique and lasting thing -- something that will fulfill a need in someone's library. So she's different, she's more of an entertainer than she is -- with a bubbly personality -- than she is a teacher like me. That's not what she's professing to be."
When asked about Stewart's comments, Ray says "It's true. It's 100 percent true," but adds the criticism doesn't upset her.
"Why would it make me mad?" Ray says. "When it comes to producing a beautiful, perfect, high quality meal, I'd rather eat Martha's than mine too."
Who do you like better? Martha or Rachael? Spill it in the comments.
What's next for the final five contestants? Photo: Bravo
Come back, Natalie! O, Nigella, where art thou? After a couple of heavy-hitting, sweeps-month episodes, last night's "Top Chef" was, well, a little subdued.
With the albatross that was Robin finally gone, and five not-quite-equal cheftestants left, the mysteries left in the season are few. Will Jen get her mojo back? Will the brothers Voltaggio go at each other's throats, like we've been hoping they would all season? Will snarky Toby Young disappear for good, already?
Instead of high tension, we got slow-burn dread and buttoned-down critiques, not to mention portentous montages of the chefs getting dressed, sleeping, or, in the case of Kevin, hanging rosary beads around his neck.
While there was no Bobby Flay, the NBC's Meredith Vieira challenged celebrity domestic goddess Martha Stewart and her "Mile High Apple Pie" to an apple pie bake-off Wednesday morning on "The Today Show."
There were the obvious differences: Martha Stewart made her own pie crust while Meredith opted for a Flako pre-made version. Martha included lemon in her mile-high pie while Meredith did not. Meredith uses apple pie spice, Martha utilizes cinnamon.
One thing is similarly evident though between the rolling of the eyes and playful taunts, these two ladies were in it to win it.
Find out who won the Martha vs. Meredith apple pie bake-off and get the recipes after the jump.
Apparently, someone at Bravo decided they needed their very own Gordon Ramsay. And he needed to be, you know, sexy.
We know this, because on the series premiere of "Chef Academy," we were reminded about 20 times within the first 15 minutes of French chef-extraordinaire Jean Christophe Novelli's tall, dark and smarmy good looks. First by his right-out-of-central-casting flamboyant personal assistant, then by the contestants, then by the reference to a New York Times' survey naming him "The World's Sexiest Chef."
Personally, we think he looks like a cross between "Charles in Charge"-era Scott Baio and an aging Jon Lovitz, but beauty is in the eye of the network, apparently. What struck us most in this inaugural hour was "Chef Academy"'s weird mix of elements. Cooking-competition program, ridiculous-amateur freakshow and yuppie lifestyle catalog all converged to give Monday night's premiere one of those "Is this thing going to last?" vibes that it couldn't quite shake. To quote one of the student-contestants, "This isn't 'Top Chef'!" Don't we know it.
Donatella Arpaia
calling out the bullies.
Photo: Food Network.
Last night, we entered a world of pain on "The Next Iron Chef" -- quite literally. With only three chefs left in the competition, we no longer had to rely on the show's Ritalin-addicted cameramen or the barked commands of stoic "Chairman" Marc Dacascos to make us anxious. The misty, unforgiving environs of Tokyo seemed to be doing a fine job all on their own.
Never mind Jose Garces being shouted at by the fishmongers at the legendary Tsukiji fish market, or the now openly evil Jehangir Mehta announcing, "I'm not bothered by bringing other people down to make myself look better." We knew there was pain in the air last night from the very first, utterly geeky "Reservoir Dogs"-style shot of the three chefs walking down a rain-slicked street to get their latest assignment from Dacascos and host Alton Brown. We wondered: Why are they walking so slowly? And why is Seamus Mullen limping along in what appears to be utter agony?
Leave it to "TNIC" editors to have downplayed Mullen's ongoing struggle with rheumatoid arthritis until this late in the game. Whether or not the affliction had hindered him in previous episodes, we're not sure, but last night, attempting to run around both the market and the kitchen for several hours on end, it was clear he was suffering. Add to that the indignity of Mehta leaving the forever-temperamental ice-cream machine (when will you guys throw in the towel on that thing?!) in strategic shambles, and the damning comment of "Have you ever cooked rice?" from guest judge Dr. Hattori, and Mullen was having one of those Very Bad Days we all dread.
But more about that later. The challenge was to cook a five-course kaiseki -- a very formal meal composed of local, seasonal ingredients -- that reflected their own "integrity" as a chef. For Mehta this meant buying half of the food in the market and littering his serving trays with edible flowers ("I'm a happy person! I like beauty!"). Mullen may have dubbed it all "smoke and mirrors," but Mehta still managed to produce a fresh clam salad with chili flower that was a standout of the evening.
Jen, quit hating on yourself! Robin, what weird technique are you attempting now? Eli, get a clue! Was it just us, or was last night's "Top Chef" one of the most unexpectedly emotional, perversely suspenseful, scream-at-the-screen entertaining episodes in weeks?
By all indications, it shouldn't have been a standout night. Were there big surprises? No. Did the show's editors play up the usual themes -- "I miss my kids/significant other," "people misunderstand me as a chef," "this show will make or break what little reputation I have"? Of course. Are all the chefs who remain all equally deserving of the "Top Chef" title? Not at all.
Still, the show had a weird cumulative power, in large part because we've gotten to the point where we've invested a lot of time and faith into this motley crew. They may be burnt out by the sweltering Vegas sun and the even-more-searing comments of the judges, but we're not ready to see them throw in their aprons. So when Jen grumbled "I'm ready to go" before she was even called to the loser's circle, we wanted to stage a self-esteem intervention, stat.
Fast-food chain Carl's Jr. has stopped the ad campaign for its Chicken Parmesan Sandwich after Italian-American groups complained about the mafia-themed commercials.
The California Italian-American Task Force and the National Italian-American Federation praised Carl's Jr.'s parent company CKE for its decision not to buy more TV slots for the ads, which feature mobster and garbage man characters that critics said showed negative Italian-American stereotypes, Nation's Restaurant News reports.
In the ad, a man sits in his car eating the Carl's Jr. Chicken Parmesan Sandwich as marinara sauce drips out of his mouth and down his shirt. When two mafia goons approach the car, the man plays dead. Fooled by the sauce dotting his shirt like blood, they leave him alive assuming someone else killed him before they arrived.
"NIAF was pleased to see the positive steps taken by Carl's Jr. Restaurant to remove negative, inaccurate and unfair characterizations in their recent commercial advertisements," Jeff Capaccio, the group's regional vice president for the Far West, told the paper. "These advertisements only fuel further incorrect assumptions about an entire ethnic group."
Jingles are jaunty little hymns to hum while strolling down the aisles of the local temple of frozen pizzas, jarred cheeses, and fresh produce. These clarion calls of consumerism are designed to be simple, snappy, and infectious like swine flu. Beamed directly from the television to the frontal lobe, they are often more memorable than the products about which they're composed.
And that's what makes them so effective; you might not want that box of salty, over-priced flavored rice, but it's been scanned and bagged already. Why? Because you didn't even realize that your eyes had rolled into the back of your skull while you were whistling that product's happy little mind-controlling melody.
So we're celebrating some of the most important music our culture has ever produced -- tunes engineered to tickle the intersection of neural ganglia where pleasure and credit card impulses meet. We dare you to listen, remember and totally not catch yourself blurting them out later today, probably at an inappropriate time. Each of these jingles is cheesy, manipulative and one of them will probably be our dying words.
"Is there anything you'd like to say with your last breath?"
Chorus: "I want my baby back, baby back, baby back ribs." Why it's so catchy: It might just be the greatest tune that well-coiffed troupe of teen troubadours from yesteryear, 'N Sync, ever sang. This finger-snapping jingle stirs up excitement for what's essentially a plate of mealy pork bones slathered in sweet ketchup. It's funky, soulful and has the most addicting bass line in all of audio advertising. Imagine it being sung by a cross between Gregorian monks and a gospel choir.
Do you feel like chicken tonight? Betcha will, after the jump.
Dacascos and his suggestive brows.
Photo: Food Network.
It took a transpacific flight, but finally last night, "The Next Iron Chef" deviated from its status as a "Top Chef" also-ran and finally started getting ... weird. Or maybe it was just the goofy opening montage of our four remaining cheftestants standing in the busy rain-slicked streets of Tokyo, crossing their arms in slo-mo and acting all alpha-dog dominant.
In any event, the show is finally getting down to its high-stakes, high-drama Japanese roots after an extended period of trumped-up, low-stakes challenges in Los Angeles. Our trio of alternately grumpy and spunky judges have come along for the ride, and eyebrow-cocking "Chairman" Marc Dacascos is no longer beamed in via satellite to bark oblique commands to the chefs -- now he can do so in person!
This week's mission was the pursuit of umami, the Japanese concept of a so-called fifth flavor -- something beyond savory -- that seems to be everywhere these days. The word was mentioned about a zillion times in the course of last night's episode, and -- surprise! -- it just happens to be the current marketing catchphrase of "TNIC" sponsor Kikkoman, whose umpteen varieties of soy sauce were littered around the challenge kitchen. The umami theme also allowed host Alton Brown a moment to do what he does best: Explain all the geeky details of how soy sauce is made.
That food chemistry lesson out of the way, it was up to our remaining pro chefs to get down to the flavor at hand, a challenge made all the more confusing in the Hattori Nutrition College kitchen, replete with weird can openers, stoves operating in celcius and ice cream makers that seemed to deep-freeze their wares to a glacier-like consistency. Asked to fill five spots of a bento box each with a different rice-based dish, the foursome didn't need to engage in the usual reality-show sabotage -- the people who arranged the kitchen seemed to do that for them.
Have we really gotten so far into the current season of "Top Chef" that Bravo feels the need to start dragging out the suspense -- namely, when will Robin be eliminated -- with an arbitrary, 11-chef reunion special? In retrospect, we should have known that that Very Special Natalie Portman episode was preparing us for an agonizing, two-week hibernation. Wake us when it's sweeps week.
In actuality, "Top Chef All Stars" was less a "where are they now" gift to loyal fans than it was a five-season clip compilation for non-fans, reminding them that the current Vegas edition, entertaining as it is, can't hold a candle to the pissy dysfunction -- or bad hairstyles -- of seasons past.
Presided over by Season Five's grade-A diva Fabio, the evening mostly succeeded in being a mellow, low-tension meeting of 11 "fan favorite" cheftestants. And don't think they got a free trip to Los Angeles without having to cook, either, although at least this time they were granted a luxurious $500 budget at Whole Foods. Still, drama and revelations were in short supply, while the most prominent theme of the evening was -- newsflash -- Marcel is still a dick. (Although he and Ilan seem to be legitimately chummy nowadays.)
The Season Two pipsqueak with the loud mouth and Robert Pattinson-on-steroids hair dominated this so-called reunion, both in present tense and in lovingly edited montages. You want a replay of Marcel talking over the judges during his critique? You got it. Care to revisit the unsuccessful attempt by his housemates to pin him down and shave off his downy brown locks? We don't, if only because it didn't produce the desired result: Marcel crying like a bald-headed baby.
In the arena of giant food, the record for the world's largest meatball doesn't last long.
It was just this September that Jimmy Kimmel and crew bested a Mexican meatball to take back the prize of world's largest meatball for America. But just five weeks later, the late-night funnyman's large lunch was bested by an Italian eatery in New Hampshire.
Nonni's Italian Eatery crafted a meatball on Sunday at a Holiday Inn in Concord, N.H., that decimated Kimmel's 198.6-pound meatball by about 25 pounds.
At the mid-point of any reality show -- let alone one involving a bunch of ambitious, successful, mostly alpha-male chefs -- a clear villain emerges. And the way things have shaken out on "The Next Iron Chef," we're left with a strange mix: Two are the nicest chefs you could imagine (Jose Garces, Roberto Trevino), two are boy- and girl-next-door types (Seamus Mullen, Amanda Freitag, respectively), and two are the meanest, cockiest, backstabbing-est bastards the Food Network casting director could hope to find (Nate Appleman, Jehangir Mehta).
Picking from among the nice ones is hard -- Garces and Freitag are constantly offering up help to the others and downplaying their talent -- but the heart of banal evil of "TNIC" is a little easier to pin down. Sure, former A16 and soon-to-be Pulino's chef Appleman is your average aggressive, tatted-up, overly confident young chef. And yes, his quote during last night's Indian-themed "pressure" challenge was enough to make us hurl: "I'm a white boy who never cooked Indian before and I just cooked 5 dishes -- I think I've pretty much won this."
But if it's the devious grin, the glint of sabotage, the air of smug condescension you're looking for, there can only be one choice: Mehta. We're sure Graffiti's wunderkind is, as its Web site puts it, "truly a nice guy." But if you've been watching the way "TNIC" editors slice-and-dice Mehta's reaction shots -- not to mention his own proclivity for undermining his co-contestants by hoarding ingredients and gadgets whether he needs them or not -- he's the leading candidate to be the show's mustache-twirling bad guy. And judging by the voting, he'll continue to be.
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