If you're not reading Super Special Questions and listening to the music of Mike Doughty, it's about damn time you start. If you are reading it, then you would have seen today's long update post (he's into that recently) about his preparations for the Knitting Factory show (which, alas, I am not going to), his forthcoming trip to Berlin, the songwriting process for his next album which cannot come soon enough, and relinking with Andrew "Scrap" Livingston, international man of mystery. In and of itself, a great post.
But contained in the bottom of the text were some recommendations from Doughty. First, that we should all see that German movie that won the Best Foreign Film Oscar last night. More importantly, however, he introduces us to Sean Hayes, an independent singer-songwriter from San Francisco. I just downloaded his latest two albums, "Big Black Hole and Little Baby Star" and "Alabama Chicken" from iTunes, and let me tell you, I don't think I've heard downbeat folkrock this good since I heard Damien Rice's "O" way back on the campaign trail. Hayes released these two albums on his own label and has lent his personal touch to them. Stirring arrangements are accompanied by his haunting vocals, a cross between the aforementioned Rice, Amos Lee (who, also, if you're not listening to him, you're worse off for it) and, at times, Thom Yorke. All the while, Hayes incorporates the country sensibility he learned growing up in North Carolina into a very mature, folky, unique sound.
In short, go buy these albums now. And enjoy them.
You can thank me (and Doughty) later.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Sunday, February 25, 2007
No, You're Right, Of COURSE Strom Thurmond's Family Owned Al Sharpton's Ancestors As Slaves. This Makes Perfect Sense.
If this is a joke, it is the funniest joke I have ever heard. If it's not, and it is in fact true, then it is the funniest thing I have ever heard, period. I've linked the article, but here is the crux of it:
Strom Thurmond's Great-Great Grandfather owned slaves, much as the younger Thurmond (which, I'm sure the late, great racist gentleman from South Carolina has not been called in a VERY long time) would have liked to do in his own life. One of those slaves was a man named Coleman Sharpton. And yes, you guessed it, Coleman Sharpton is a direct ancestor of the one, the only, Rev. Al Sharpton.
I mean, can you conceive of a more hilarious circumstance than this? I'm thinking about writing a sitcom about it, for christ's sake.
Strom Thurmond's Great-Great Grandfather owned slaves, much as the younger Thurmond (which, I'm sure the late, great racist gentleman from South Carolina has not been called in a VERY long time) would have liked to do in his own life. One of those slaves was a man named Coleman Sharpton. And yes, you guessed it, Coleman Sharpton is a direct ancestor of the one, the only, Rev. Al Sharpton.
I mean, can you conceive of a more hilarious circumstance than this? I'm thinking about writing a sitcom about it, for christ's sake.
Friday, February 23, 2007
DJ
Dennis Johnson died last night. He was 52. It's almost ironic, because I had spent a goodly portion of this week thinking about Dennis Johnson specifically, and the '86 Celtics in general. You know, the Pats are done for the year and the Red Sox won't start ramping up until next week, so my mind wanders, inevitably, to the glory days of the past in Boston sports. Also, NBATV (the newest hotness) has been showing NBA's Greatest Games from 1986 a lot lately. I forgot how truly stacked that team was. Bird, McHale, Parish, Ainge, and DJ. All 5 of them all-stars. All 5 of them (as Bill Simmons writes today in his elegy for Johnson, which you all should read, because he'll say this much better than I ever could) SHOULD be Hall of Famers. Of course, Johnson will get there, but now it will be only in memoriam for the great player he was.
Anyway, read Simmons, because he breaks this down much better, but the one thing people forget is how DJ's greatest play (of many great instinctive plays he made over his career) is completely overshadowed by a Legend and a call. Watch it below.
Remember plays like this one when the Celtics next stink out the joint against Golden State or some damn thing. In any case, thanks DJ, you provided the Celtic faithful with many, many great moments. And you will be missed.
Anyway, read Simmons, because he breaks this down much better, but the one thing people forget is how DJ's greatest play (of many great instinctive plays he made over his career) is completely overshadowed by a Legend and a call. Watch it below.
Remember plays like this one when the Celtics next stink out the joint against Golden State or some damn thing. In any case, thanks DJ, you provided the Celtic faithful with many, many great moments. And you will be missed.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Shrimp. Bacon. Pizza. Heaven.
I openly wept at the sight of it.
About six months ago, as many of you may know, the culinary bastion of goodness known as Urban Gourmet burned in a tragic fire which left all of us who loved the venerable greasy spoon, and had elevated it to an almost cult-like status, shocked and saddened. Over the weekend, I received word that the owners had pooled their resources into a new location, which they dubbed City Slicker Cafe. As they were closed Sunday and Monday, I had to wait a few more days until last night to renew my love for Urban. But, oh boy, the wait was more than worth it.
I put in my order at around 6pm after my torturous Postmodernism class wrapped up late and I got books from Tisch for my paper due on Thursday. The last six Urbanless months had prepared me for the final wait, but I still kept bouncing my leg while staring at the clock in anticipation. When the doorbell rang, I (quite literally) bolted out of my chair to the door and received my pizza, now dubbed the Surf 'n' Turf by City Slicker. Running back to the couch, I didn't even wait to get a plate or a glass of milk or anything. I put the box down on the ottoman and opened it. And stared.
Honestly, pizza, or really food of any kind, should not make me do this. But there I sat, in awe of the beauty which sat smoldering in front of me. It was just as I remembered: thick, flaky crust, lush toppings, bubbling cheese. I admired for a minute what I had so long desired. And then I took my first, breathless bite.
The taste was just as I remembered. Buttery and soft, the shrimp and bacon flavors dancing across my palate, all the while thinking, "if there is a god, and he ordered a pizza, it would be this."
I ate six slices and I didn't care that that made me a fatass. It was worth it. Because when a man thinks he's lost his favorite pizza forever, there's nothing in the world like getting it back.
About six months ago, as many of you may know, the culinary bastion of goodness known as Urban Gourmet burned in a tragic fire which left all of us who loved the venerable greasy spoon, and had elevated it to an almost cult-like status, shocked and saddened. Over the weekend, I received word that the owners had pooled their resources into a new location, which they dubbed City Slicker Cafe. As they were closed Sunday and Monday, I had to wait a few more days until last night to renew my love for Urban. But, oh boy, the wait was more than worth it.
I put in my order at around 6pm after my torturous Postmodernism class wrapped up late and I got books from Tisch for my paper due on Thursday. The last six Urbanless months had prepared me for the final wait, but I still kept bouncing my leg while staring at the clock in anticipation. When the doorbell rang, I (quite literally) bolted out of my chair to the door and received my pizza, now dubbed the Surf 'n' Turf by City Slicker. Running back to the couch, I didn't even wait to get a plate or a glass of milk or anything. I put the box down on the ottoman and opened it. And stared.
Honestly, pizza, or really food of any kind, should not make me do this. But there I sat, in awe of the beauty which sat smoldering in front of me. It was just as I remembered: thick, flaky crust, lush toppings, bubbling cheese. I admired for a minute what I had so long desired. And then I took my first, breathless bite.
The taste was just as I remembered. Buttery and soft, the shrimp and bacon flavors dancing across my palate, all the while thinking, "if there is a god, and he ordered a pizza, it would be this."
I ate six slices and I didn't care that that made me a fatass. It was worth it. Because when a man thinks he's lost his favorite pizza forever, there's nothing in the world like getting it back.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Thirsty Thursday: 2005 Chateau Clos de la Chesnaie, Lalande de Pomerol
Welcome to a new feature over here at Theory in Practice. Each Thursday night, as the college weekend and drinkathon begins, I'll be posting tasting notes for a new wine each week, both to continue my lovable but pompous ranting and to help educate you, dear reader, on the wonderful world of wine.
We begin this week with a 2005 Chateau Clos de la Chesnaie, a Bordeaux blend of Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon. Oenophiles have been holding their collective breath in anticipation of the wonders the 2005 Bordeaux vintage will unleash, and we are just now getting our first peek into the peak of the world's best known wine region. Scholars wonder whether 2005, with great vintages like 2000 and 2003 barely in the rear-view mirror, will gain that most sought-after title of reknowned year in Bordelaise history. Futures have skyrocketed, and the world's collectors have begun snapping up the best. But for me, the small quaffer, and thousands like me, we may still experience that perfection of a confluence of events so rare as to create memories for years to come. There are wonderful, accessible Bordeaux wines still out there, so get searching!
And now on to the tasting. Earth tones and lovely Merlot berry flavors on the nose, tempered with just hint of smoke and oak. Rather astringent in the mouth, even after aerating, but with a flourish of strawberry and black cherries. Finish is very acidic, clearly the wine needs much more time to mellow in the bottle.
Overall: 87 now, 89-91 at peak. $14.99 on sale at Mall Discount Liquors, Cambridge, MA
We begin this week with a 2005 Chateau Clos de la Chesnaie, a Bordeaux blend of Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon. Oenophiles have been holding their collective breath in anticipation of the wonders the 2005 Bordeaux vintage will unleash, and we are just now getting our first peek into the peak of the world's best known wine region. Scholars wonder whether 2005, with great vintages like 2000 and 2003 barely in the rear-view mirror, will gain that most sought-after title of reknowned year in Bordelaise history. Futures have skyrocketed, and the world's collectors have begun snapping up the best. But for me, the small quaffer, and thousands like me, we may still experience that perfection of a confluence of events so rare as to create memories for years to come. There are wonderful, accessible Bordeaux wines still out there, so get searching!
And now on to the tasting. Earth tones and lovely Merlot berry flavors on the nose, tempered with just hint of smoke and oak. Rather astringent in the mouth, even after aerating, but with a flourish of strawberry and black cherries. Finish is very acidic, clearly the wine needs much more time to mellow in the bottle.
Overall: 87 now, 89-91 at peak. $14.99 on sale at Mall Discount Liquors, Cambridge, MA
Sunday, February 11, 2007
'Bosch is Better
Though I am still in the recovery process from yesterday's Boston Wine Expo, I have a few quick thoughts on the dazzling event, and some comparisons to my favorite wine event, the Stellenbosch Wine Festival.
First of all, event hough they say it opens at 1pm, we clearly needed to be there well before that. Unfortunately, James and I were detained at his house trying to buy Red Sox opening day tickets (we didn't get them, got Yankee tickets for April 21st instead) and didn't leave Cambridge until 12:30. Nevertheless, as we exited the Silver Line stop at World Trade Center station at 1pm on the nose, the gathering herd had...well, gathered. The line stretched in a serpentine fashion all the way out past the Seaport Hotel. And that was just the line to get into a another line to get your ticket taken! The entire process took more than a half an hour. Luckily, it was rather a warm day and we were appropriately dressed.
When we arrived inside the hall, the sheer magnitude of the event captivated us. Acre upon acre of wine, wine-related products, and food splayed out in front of us. We didn't know where to begin. After 10 minutes trying to find the coat check, which we never found until about an hour and a half later, when it was full, we decided to make our first tasting experiences in the Sonoma County booths, starting with Ravenswood Sonoma County Old Vines Zinfandel 2004. I much prefer the Mendocino County Zin by Ravenswood, which is not to say their Sonoma County offering is bad - it's not, it was actually some of our favorite wine of the day - but it will definitely benefit from more time in the bottle. From Sonoma County, we made our way to the South African wines, tasting some Haute-Cabriere Pinotage, a Franschhoek favorite, as well as Diemersdal Pinotage from Durbanville, which I well remembered sharing with Caitlin over mussels at Theo's in Camps Bay. After the stroll down memory lane, we made our way to the Sake booth, which was surprisingly unpopular. Of course, this allowed James to talk about his favorite Sake pairings - "I like to pair with an ice cold Kirin Ichiban, placing the Sake at the bottom and drinking rapidly" - but also allowed us to sample some very fine wine. The exhibitor there was also the best of the day by far. He really knew about the process and clearly loved explaining it to wine people who many times do not give Sake its due. Their unfiltered offering, Kikusui Funaguchi, was my favorite, a viscous, cloudy and rich tasting offering in a can which checks in at 19% alcohol by volume.
After our first round of tasting, having made our towards the celebrity chef kitchens, we started walking through the food displays, enjoying many new treats along the way. However, after about 15 minutes we decided food would not get us drunk, so it was right back to the tasting floor. By now, at about 2:30, the hall was packed with wine people. It was also during this period that many of the serious wine writers, tradesmen and true oenophiles were making their rounds. Which, of course, means they were hogging up all the good tables wanting to talk about esoterica with the merchants. We did manage to slip into some smaller places along the way, however, including the intriguing Clos de Lachance, a small, single-vineyard winery in the Santa Cruz Mountains of Central California. Their "hummingbird series" zinfandel and syrah had clearly benefited from the careful handling of a small vintner's touch. After this visit to California, we jumped over to Portugal and indulged in some very big, bold and fruit-forward wines. My favorite was the Ferreira 10-Year Tawny Port, with wonderfully rich fruit and oak flavors that seemed to linger for almost half an hour after tasting. Certainly made me want to visit Portugal for real and sample some contemporaries.
Much of the rest of the afternoon was spent tasting American wines, which but for MacRostie's fantastic Pinot Noir and the Central Coast Zinfandel offering from Pietra Santa Winery, were less than thrilling. In all, James and I guessed we tasted around 75-100 wines in less than three hours, which made the cold walk back slightly more bearable. Nonetheless, while impressive and large, the Boston Wine Expo pales in comparison to the stellar Stellenbosch affair. Now, of course, it is a much different type of wine celebration, with the best of the best from across the world gathered here in Boston, while Stellenbosch is a celebration of one region, however formidable. Still, I much prefer the smaller celebrations in that we could taste our way through the entire region and really get a sense of it. With a lack of a clear strategy in Boston, we sort of found ourselves all over the map, so to speak, and while we certainly had some dizzying highs, they were fewer and further between. There was also a much more rushed feel to the Boston event. With only three hours to taste and 1800 wines available, we ended up having to make choices based on availability and timing, much more than in Stellenbosch. It was a much more closed in feel to be sure. Finally, and I believe most regrettably, for whatever reason, there was no way to buy any of the wines we sampled at the Wine Expo. At Stellnbosch, when we finished tasting after four or so hours, we could go into the shop pick up the ones we liked then retire to the field behind the Paul Roos Centre and in the shadows of the mountains drink sundowners and relax. In Boston, when we were done tasting, the event was over, no room to further discuss what we found or enjoy some spoils of tasting. Still, the event, while certainly more of a trade show than a festival, is worth every penny to go to in order to beef up your education about wine.
First of all, event hough they say it opens at 1pm, we clearly needed to be there well before that. Unfortunately, James and I were detained at his house trying to buy Red Sox opening day tickets (we didn't get them, got Yankee tickets for April 21st instead) and didn't leave Cambridge until 12:30. Nevertheless, as we exited the Silver Line stop at World Trade Center station at 1pm on the nose, the gathering herd had...well, gathered. The line stretched in a serpentine fashion all the way out past the Seaport Hotel. And that was just the line to get into a another line to get your ticket taken! The entire process took more than a half an hour. Luckily, it was rather a warm day and we were appropriately dressed.
When we arrived inside the hall, the sheer magnitude of the event captivated us. Acre upon acre of wine, wine-related products, and food splayed out in front of us. We didn't know where to begin. After 10 minutes trying to find the coat check, which we never found until about an hour and a half later, when it was full, we decided to make our first tasting experiences in the Sonoma County booths, starting with Ravenswood Sonoma County Old Vines Zinfandel 2004. I much prefer the Mendocino County Zin by Ravenswood, which is not to say their Sonoma County offering is bad - it's not, it was actually some of our favorite wine of the day - but it will definitely benefit from more time in the bottle. From Sonoma County, we made our way to the South African wines, tasting some Haute-Cabriere Pinotage, a Franschhoek favorite, as well as Diemersdal Pinotage from Durbanville, which I well remembered sharing with Caitlin over mussels at Theo's in Camps Bay. After the stroll down memory lane, we made our way to the Sake booth, which was surprisingly unpopular. Of course, this allowed James to talk about his favorite Sake pairings - "I like to pair with an ice cold Kirin Ichiban, placing the Sake at the bottom and drinking rapidly" - but also allowed us to sample some very fine wine. The exhibitor there was also the best of the day by far. He really knew about the process and clearly loved explaining it to wine people who many times do not give Sake its due. Their unfiltered offering, Kikusui Funaguchi, was my favorite, a viscous, cloudy and rich tasting offering in a can which checks in at 19% alcohol by volume.
After our first round of tasting, having made our towards the celebrity chef kitchens, we started walking through the food displays, enjoying many new treats along the way. However, after about 15 minutes we decided food would not get us drunk, so it was right back to the tasting floor. By now, at about 2:30, the hall was packed with wine people. It was also during this period that many of the serious wine writers, tradesmen and true oenophiles were making their rounds. Which, of course, means they were hogging up all the good tables wanting to talk about esoterica with the merchants. We did manage to slip into some smaller places along the way, however, including the intriguing Clos de Lachance, a small, single-vineyard winery in the Santa Cruz Mountains of Central California. Their "hummingbird series" zinfandel and syrah had clearly benefited from the careful handling of a small vintner's touch. After this visit to California, we jumped over to Portugal and indulged in some very big, bold and fruit-forward wines. My favorite was the Ferreira 10-Year Tawny Port, with wonderfully rich fruit and oak flavors that seemed to linger for almost half an hour after tasting. Certainly made me want to visit Portugal for real and sample some contemporaries.
Much of the rest of the afternoon was spent tasting American wines, which but for MacRostie's fantastic Pinot Noir and the Central Coast Zinfandel offering from Pietra Santa Winery, were less than thrilling. In all, James and I guessed we tasted around 75-100 wines in less than three hours, which made the cold walk back slightly more bearable. Nonetheless, while impressive and large, the Boston Wine Expo pales in comparison to the stellar Stellenbosch affair. Now, of course, it is a much different type of wine celebration, with the best of the best from across the world gathered here in Boston, while Stellenbosch is a celebration of one region, however formidable. Still, I much prefer the smaller celebrations in that we could taste our way through the entire region and really get a sense of it. With a lack of a clear strategy in Boston, we sort of found ourselves all over the map, so to speak, and while we certainly had some dizzying highs, they were fewer and further between. There was also a much more rushed feel to the Boston event. With only three hours to taste and 1800 wines available, we ended up having to make choices based on availability and timing, much more than in Stellenbosch. It was a much more closed in feel to be sure. Finally, and I believe most regrettably, for whatever reason, there was no way to buy any of the wines we sampled at the Wine Expo. At Stellnbosch, when we finished tasting after four or so hours, we could go into the shop pick up the ones we liked then retire to the field behind the Paul Roos Centre and in the shadows of the mountains drink sundowners and relax. In Boston, when we were done tasting, the event was over, no room to further discuss what we found or enjoy some spoils of tasting. Still, the event, while certainly more of a trade show than a festival, is worth every penny to go to in order to beef up your education about wine.
Friday, February 09, 2007
Bourdain is God, God is Bourdain. The Two Are One.
A lot of you know of my fascination and utmost respect for Chef-Hero, Anthony Bourdain. I mean, after all, this is the man who truly spurred my own desire to cook and has made cooking a soulful pursuit again. He is also one of my favorite writers, with a talent for description of even the most mundane things, both in and out of the kitchen, sublime. In a guest post over at Ruhlman.com, he takes the Food Network to task for its current crop of celebrity chefs. Those of you who have read his seminal work, Kitchen Confidential, know of Bourdain's distaste for the entire idea of the celebrity chef - though, of course, he has become one along the way, albeit with a style unmatched in the industry. Here, he essentially bemoans the loss of the soul of cooking, a soul which he, himself, has been credited with saving over the last decade at Les Halles, and as he lamented in an earlier guest post about this year's Top Chef. As always, Bourdain's musings are spot on. Read and enjoy. Also, if you haven't read Kitchen Confidential, The Nasty Bits or any other of Bourdain's earlier work, go to Amazon and buy them now.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Marry Me, Speaker Pelosi
Check out this link from the Corpus Christi Caller. On the official House Democrats Events Calendar, there is a notation on February 11:
Dick Cheney Hunting Incident (2006).
Amazing.
Dick Cheney Hunting Incident (2006).
Amazing.
Monday, February 05, 2007
The Best Super Bowl Ad of 2007
Peyton won his damn Super Bowl. I don't even want to talk about it.
So, instead, let's talk about the game within the game: advertising! The King Pharmaceuticals ad for beatyourrisk.com notwithstanding (shameless plug: Megan's company came up with the storyboards...it was the one where the heart gets attacked by all the things that can hurt it and so on...watch it here), the best advertisements, in my opinion, always feature Robert Goulet.
Emerald Nuts is always good for a laugh and this year they did not disappoint. I know I'll be on the lookout for Robert Goulet the next time I'm feeling sleepy at the office.
So, instead, let's talk about the game within the game: advertising! The King Pharmaceuticals ad for beatyourrisk.com notwithstanding (shameless plug: Megan's company came up with the storyboards...it was the one where the heart gets attacked by all the things that can hurt it and so on...watch it here), the best advertisements, in my opinion, always feature Robert Goulet.
Emerald Nuts is always good for a laugh and this year they did not disappoint. I know I'll be on the lookout for Robert Goulet the next time I'm feeling sleepy at the office.
Friday, February 02, 2007
Meh...: A Super Bowl Post
It took the NFL almost twenty years, but they have accomplished the unthinkable. They have made me not care at all about watching the Super Bowl. There are no interesting subplots. There is no interesting pretext. The teams are not that fun to watch. And Prince is the halftime show. Still, in the paraphrased words of Lewis Black, I'm a man and I have no religion, and it's on a Sunday, so I'm trying.
Indianapolis vs Chicago
Super Bowl XLI. The Big Game. Additional, generic football-related catchphrase. I just don't care. I don't care about Peyton Manning. I don't care about Tank Johnson. And I certainly don't care about Rex Grossman. I don't care about Thomas Jones, or Joseph Addai or even Marvin Harrison. I just don't care and you can't make me. I want this game to be good, I really do, but it won't be. It'll be an archetypal blase Super Bowl. The first quarter will start with both teams coming out flat, then ramping it up in the second quarter as we roll towards halftime and my second set of wings. One team will have clearly outplayed the other in the first half (for my money, this will be Indianapolis) but hold only a slim lead going into the locker rooms. Both teams will be stiff after the longer layoff going into the third quarter and the trailing team (thus, the Bears) will start to mount a comeback and tie the game going into the fourth quarter. Then the team which led in the first half will make a few costly errors early in the quarter allowing the supposedly beaten team to come back, score a touchdown or two and win going away with five minutes to go, leaving me in a beer and wing fed stupor and wishing I hadn't even watched.
As for actually breaking the game down, I believe the Bears will win for three distinct reasons.
1) Somehow, less pressure
2) Better defense
3) And I will stick to this until I am absolutely proven wrong, PEYTON MANNING IN A BIG GAME!!!!!
The Super Bowl is not Peyton's Place. He may not be Dan Fouts anymore, but, by God, he will be Dan Marino. He must never win the Super Bowl. I will be vindicated.
PREDICTION: Bears 24, Colts 15 (Yup, FIVE Vinatieri Field Goals.)
Indianapolis vs Chicago
Super Bowl XLI. The Big Game. Additional, generic football-related catchphrase. I just don't care. I don't care about Peyton Manning. I don't care about Tank Johnson. And I certainly don't care about Rex Grossman. I don't care about Thomas Jones, or Joseph Addai or even Marvin Harrison. I just don't care and you can't make me. I want this game to be good, I really do, but it won't be. It'll be an archetypal blase Super Bowl. The first quarter will start with both teams coming out flat, then ramping it up in the second quarter as we roll towards halftime and my second set of wings. One team will have clearly outplayed the other in the first half (for my money, this will be Indianapolis) but hold only a slim lead going into the locker rooms. Both teams will be stiff after the longer layoff going into the third quarter and the trailing team (thus, the Bears) will start to mount a comeback and tie the game going into the fourth quarter. Then the team which led in the first half will make a few costly errors early in the quarter allowing the supposedly beaten team to come back, score a touchdown or two and win going away with five minutes to go, leaving me in a beer and wing fed stupor and wishing I hadn't even watched.
As for actually breaking the game down, I believe the Bears will win for three distinct reasons.
1) Somehow, less pressure
2) Better defense
3) And I will stick to this until I am absolutely proven wrong, PEYTON MANNING IN A BIG GAME!!!!!
The Super Bowl is not Peyton's Place. He may not be Dan Fouts anymore, but, by God, he will be Dan Marino. He must never win the Super Bowl. I will be vindicated.
PREDICTION: Bears 24, Colts 15 (Yup, FIVE Vinatieri Field Goals.)
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Sweet, Sweet Candy...Bam.
Our long national nightmare is at an end. Food is safe for another television season. Marcel Vigneron has been defeated.
Let me say at the outset, for all my hatred of Marcel, he is technically a very good cook. And the stuff he is doing, while mostly cracked-out, is at the very least an homage to the avant-garde, if not itself avant-garde (more on this in a moment). But he is most certainly not a chef. I think the judges were all thinking about what might have been when they named Ilan the Top Chef last evening. When Sam told them he prepared Marcel's third dish of the evening, the producer's wonderment could barely be contained by the producers who wanted to capture some semblance of drama between the two contestants. Sam probably should have gotten to the final over Ilan, but it is my belief that the producers of the show, and Tom Colicchio (a man I continue to respect and admire, of course) thought Ilan and Marcel's battle royale would make better television.
In the end, Ilan cooked the meal of his life and Marcel screwed around with his chemistry set and simply failed. The judges wanted to give him the crown after the head shaving incident, but they simply could not on the weakness of his dishes last evening. They even put Wylie Dufresne, Marcel's culinary god and the beacon of hope to all so-called "molecular gastronomists" out in the world on the judges panel, and he was, at best, bemused my Marcel's vague attempts to be original. Soul beats toys every time in the kitchen. Last night's Top Chef proved it.
Let me say at the outset, for all my hatred of Marcel, he is technically a very good cook. And the stuff he is doing, while mostly cracked-out, is at the very least an homage to the avant-garde, if not itself avant-garde (more on this in a moment). But he is most certainly not a chef. I think the judges were all thinking about what might have been when they named Ilan the Top Chef last evening. When Sam told them he prepared Marcel's third dish of the evening, the producer's wonderment could barely be contained by the producers who wanted to capture some semblance of drama between the two contestants. Sam probably should have gotten to the final over Ilan, but it is my belief that the producers of the show, and Tom Colicchio (a man I continue to respect and admire, of course) thought Ilan and Marcel's battle royale would make better television.
In the end, Ilan cooked the meal of his life and Marcel screwed around with his chemistry set and simply failed. The judges wanted to give him the crown after the head shaving incident, but they simply could not on the weakness of his dishes last evening. They even put Wylie Dufresne, Marcel's culinary god and the beacon of hope to all so-called "molecular gastronomists" out in the world on the judges panel, and he was, at best, bemused my Marcel's vague attempts to be original. Soul beats toys every time in the kitchen. Last night's Top Chef proved it.
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