Laurine, the calm amid the 'Top Chef' chaos. Photo: Bravo.

Break out the chaps. Dust off your spurs. Get ready for Padma to ring the dinner bell as only she knows how -- that is, gingerly and timidly.

That's right, with "Top Chef" stationed in the middle of the Southwest this season, we knew there'd have to be some sort of roughing-it challenge to go along with all the gaudy glitz of the Vegas strip. The only question would be just how much roughness our cheftestants would have to endure.

Surprisingly, quite a bit. With only the most mysterious hint of their destination, the dozen remaining chefs were shipped off -- after countless shots of them enjoying the plush luxury of their product-placement Toyotas -- and left to fend for themselves in a remote desert ranch, in teepees, no less. "Is Padma sleeping in a teepee? I'd just like to know," asked Kevin.

That would be an emphatic "no." And while some chefs used the opportunity to wax nostalgic on their outdoorsy upbringings -- some (Ashley) more convincingly than others (Robin) -- some just weren't having it. Cue the urbanite whining of Atlantan Eli, or the voodoo-spellcasting of Haitian Ron, whose elaborate warding off of snakes was appreciated, if not understood, by bunkmate Ash.

The sleeping arrangements were nothing compared to what passed for a kitchen, however. As the chefs made do with ground-level fire pits for roasting, a communal picnic table for prep and a couple of hot barrels on which to boil water, there was much idle pontification on what a rancher might like to eat.

We don't know what sorts of ranchers Robin, Ron and Mattin have been hanging out with, but ceviche and sausage and prawns aren't exactly the first things that come to mind when we think of campfires, steer-branding and the solitary whistle of a man on his horse. In fact, the raw cod of the perma-scarved Mattin was enough to earn him a spit-take from Tom at the judge's table, not to mention an "I'm not well from it" comment from guest Tim Love. As ever, food poisoning equals guaranteed elimination, and the elfin Mattin went his merry way.

In fact, even the more seasoned pros among the group seemed to miss the point of this challenge. Ultra-cocky Michael V. -- whose incessant bluster last night had us wondering if the editors were trying to signal a surprise loss for the "not to brag or anything, but I have a Michelin star" chef -- served up an adept dashi of black cod and watermelon that looked light and refreshing, but utterly out-of-place on a ranch.

And while the ranchers in question ended up being foodier than their appearances suggested -- to quote Ashley, "They've been growing their beards since they were 14!" -- the chefs that truly shined knew how to work within their limitations, and offered up hearty takes on Southwestern staples.

We're not quite sure if Laurine's relaxed, laid-back manner is a balm amid all the testosterone panic of this season, or just plain boring. No matter: When you cook up a mouth-watering plate of arctic char, tomatillo salsa and fire-grilled baked-potato like she did, you've won a place in our hearts for at least two more episodes.

Similarly, we wish we could just decide once and for all that Ashley is hateably high-strung and manic. But when she pulls a rabbit out of her hat like she did last night -- with a perfectly seared halibut atop a pile of bacon, tomato and braised romaine -- she reminds us of one of those brash, underachieving schoolkids who you know is capable of far better.

Meanwhile, it was Bryan -- the reliably excellent, monotone-voiced, crushingly dull cheftestant -- who won by serving up easily the handsomest plate of food, pork loin with dandelion greens on a cloud of polenta, complete with two perfect rutabaga medallions on the side. It even played off the contrast of the blue-and-white-flecked tin dinnerware.

His flavors and presentations are so perfect, you almost have to hate him -- which makes us hope against hope that his whopping three challenge wins will now mean that his sibling, Michael V., will strike back with some of the brotherly hate we saw earlier in the season. Enough with the "we're looking out for each other" niceties, "Top Chef" -- bring on Cain and Abel.