Emmanuel, we hope that oil's extra-virgin. Photo: Bravo.
In general, food TV tends to stick to a formula, and boy, have our friends at Bravo stuck with theirs. You can count on the first 40 minutes of any given episode of "Chef Academy" to consist of mostly canned hijinks interrupted by about 10 scattered minutes of cooking instruction -- which almost always include some fancy French-chef nonsense to wow Aunt Agnes and Grammy Geraldine at home, like a grated-Parmesan bowl or a marzipan flower.
And the remaining 20 minutes? It's what we live for, the inevitable tasting, judging and ridiculing of the nine amateur party planners, would-be actors, housewives and sleazoids who make up the (spoiler alert) yet-to-be eliminated pupils of "world's sexiest chef" Jean-Christophe Novelli.
Three strikes and any one student is out, but these three strikes -- despite the cruel, plate-throwing, sneering critiques this week -- seem damn near impossible to accumulate.









