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.
Recipe writer Debbie Moose laments not having linguica on hand for a proper caldo verde, a soup she swears is perfectly suited for fall in the Southeast.
Triangle-area foodies go gaga for a Puerto Rican eatery nestled in the rear room of a suburban tchotchke shop selling scented candles and Raggedy Ann dolls.
Ever want to tell Food Network star and TGIFriday's pitchman Guy Fieri where to go? The Observer reader who submits the best essay on which three area restos Fieri should patronize during his visit later this month will win two tickets to his show.
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.
Let us pause now to reflect upon Jeffrey Steingarten, award-winning writer, fearless gastronomist and utterly irascible judge of "The Next Iron Chef." Every cooking competition show needs its Simon Cowell, after all, a grumpy, hard-to-please, perpetually underwhelmed quipster whose general lack of enthusiasm makes for great, nasty sound bites. But Steingarten is in another class entirely: He's so disaffected, it's hard to tell if he's got a pulse half of the time.
Week after week, Steingarten regards the Iron Chef hopefuls in the same way a crusty professor might deal with a snot-nosed student who happened to stop by his office outside of office hours. The man may certainly have his cheerful side, but by now we've gotten the feeling that every week, the "TNIC" editors decide to save up and splice together all of his best "You got me out of bed for this?" looks, and parse them out over the course of the last 15 minutes of each show.
When in doubt, they zoom in on one of his particularly befuddled stares -- no doubt there are plenty to choose from -- and try to give it some sort of significance, as if the man can't believe what he's hearing. You imagine that a Steingarten comment like "my flan is a little curdled" was probably delivered politely, gingerly to chef Jose Garces -- but when the tribal drums of failure are added to the soundtrack, man, does it take on a sting.
Jehangir Mehta: 'The Next Iron Chef' villain?
Photo: The Food Network.
What was that on the Food Network Sunday night, you ask? Thudding sound effects, suspenseful music, extreme shaky-cam cinematography -- it had to be one of the "Bourne" movies, right? The opening of a scene from "Saving Private Ryan"? A straight-to-video "Mission: Impossible" sequel?
No, that trumped-up spectacle you witnessed was not the next John Woo movie -- it was, of course, the semi-celebrity chef competition "The Next Iron Chef." It's unlikely that anything can challenge Bravo's "Top Chef" as the premiere American cheftestant show, but as an old ad once put it, being No. 2 means you just try harder.
And trying really, really hard is what "The Next Iron Chef" is all about. In fact, all the music, fancy editing and bright lights are beginning to take their toll: Even the eight remaining chefs can't muster up quite that much energy. When your losing chef can utterly shrug off his failure -- something along the lines of "even great chefs have bad days; at least I have two great restaurants and my lovely family to go home to," yadda yadda yadda -- you know you've got a low-stakes kind of show. It's not as if these folks are going to go back to toiling in obscurity, with the added insult of "reality show failure" being tattooed on their foreheads.
But we're getting ahead of ourselves. "The Next Iron Chef" has its pleasures, even if they're in a watered-down, "Top Chef"kind of way. Any episode that sings the praises of Los Angeles' myriad strip-mall Asian restaurants can't be all bad, especially when the four chosen for the show are all authentically, unequivocally tasty. Even the blatant product placement of the overexposed-but-still-delectable Kogi Korean-taco truck didn't bother us -- in fact, the mere thought of their short rib tacos gave us the Pavlovian impulse to check their Twitter posts to see if they were nearby.
Friday night's Blue Moon Burger Bash hosted by Food Network star-turned-one woman empire, Rachael Ray, heated the festival up. Where there weren't burgers, the Food Network and food world entourage filled in.
A brief roll call included: the aforementioned Rachael Ray, Tyler Florence, Bobby Flay, Guy Fieri, Ann Burrell, Art Smith, Jacques Torres, Rocco DiSpirito, Martha Stewart, Duff Goldman, Katie Lee (last year's Burger Bash champion), Ellie Krieger, Giada De Laurentiis...
New York's top eateries, including Minetta Tavern, Shake Shack, The Spotted Pig and Wollensky's, fired up their grills so they could claim the judges' favorite and the People's Choice Award. Check out our festival photos and more after the jump!
Not enough tension in your cooking competition shows? Do you find your blood pressure leveling out to near-normal readings during "Top Chef"? Do you wish that "Chopped" had more creepy smoke-machine fog piped into the set? Would judges' decisions be more exacting if only they were accompanied by loud, metallic wooshing sounds?
You're in luck. Last week brought the return of "The Next Iron Chef," one of the Food Network's variations on the legendary Japanese cook-off show, and with it a heaping helping of adrenalin-fueled, hacksaw-edited mania. After just two episodes, it's clear the show isn't going to give us a moment's peace, whether to pour ourselves a nice glass of sherry or grab our anti-anxiety meds -- or both, should it ever come to that.
Anthony Bourdain.
Photo: New York City
Wine & Food Festival.
When we got our hands on a coveted ticket to the Frank Bruni/Anthony Bourdain TimesTalks event, we were psyched to attend. What could be more fun than witnessing the outgoing New York Times restaurant critic participating in a culinary spar with the preeminent enfant terrible of the chef world?
Not surprisingly, Bourdain is a natural and answered practically every Bruni question with a clever, brutally honest quip. Bruni began by inquiring about one of the more unusual things he had seen Bourdain eat on his Travel Channel show, "No Reservations." The delicacy in question was a warthog's rectum. After firing off a few expletives, Bourdain admitted that while he was eating the warthog delicacy, he knew he was "in trouble," adding he humbly tries to eat everything that people around the globe offer him.
"Where we're going is based on directors we like and want to dupe," Bourdain said of the show. "We want to make something along the lines of films we admire." Of course, he capped the exchange off with a self-mocking, "But, it's all about me in the end."
Can't make it to this weekend's Food Network's New York City Wine & Food Festival? Convinced that Slashfood can get a better peek at Guy Fieri's frosted tips and potential Paula Deen pants mishaps than you can?
Follow our every nibble, sip and celeb chef sighting via the handy widget above -- starting with tonight's Chelsea Market After Dark all the way through the Grand Tasting and Burger Bash to Sunday night's Meatball Madness with Giada De Laurentiis, or just follow us on Twitter as @slashfood.
It's not unusual for TV chefs to be loved by anyone. But we had no idea the avid fan base for Guy Fieri of the Food Network's "Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives" had reached Tom Jones proportions.
At a cooking demo held Sept. 19 at the Turning Stone Casino in Verona, N.Y., Fieri was stunned when someone threw a bra onto the cooking stage. "I don't even know what to say," he said. "I thought it was going to get a little out of control."
He managed to uncover the "mystery fan" with an offer of Fieri swag. An older and younger woman approached the stage, and Fieri seemed more than a little stunned to learn who the bra belonged to -- the older woman.
"It's your mom's?" he said with a laugh. "I have seen it all ladies and gentlemen."
Brian Boitano, living to entertain. Photo: Food Network
Is it just us, or is Brian Boitano already running out of ideas? After just four brief episodes, the figure-skater-turned-foodie is so strapped for a reason to entertain, he throws a finger-food party for a Spanish-American friend with a 6-month-old baby. Why? Because she "made it."
We'll ignore for a moment what the alternatives might be for mothers of newborns. Maybe that's the beauty of "What Would Brian Boitano Make?": The man needs no excuse -- or even a reason -- to whip up a few frilly themed appetizers. Or rather, his show is the excuse.
This week's installment was pure stream-of-consciousness Brian -- a day in the life, if you will: Wake up, fire up your vintage Wedgewood oven and make a Spanish tortilla, which reminds you of your Spanish-American pal Yvonne, which in turn prompts you to learn about making paella from her mother.
We should've known better. You can't expect a figure skater to lay off the sparkles forever, and sure enough, our man Brian Boitano was back to his old tricks this week: goofy skits, crudely animated fantasy sequences and laughing at his own jokes.
But while his aesthetics are regressing, at least his cooking is maturing, from the fussy appetizers of the first two shows to something resembling a real meal.
The fabricated meal-making scenario this time followed an eager Brian ready to impress his handyman in order to gain acceptance into an "international dinner club" -- cue many references to the Wonder Bread-ish Brian's Italian heritage.
For the moment, we'll ignore the incongruous fantasy of a dashing, 40-something French handyman willing to whip up his mother's coq au vin recipe for a bachelor client. (And is it just us, or do the shots of Brian's spacious, garden-facing kitchen and his narrow San Francisco living quarters seem a little... lacking in continuity?)
'Robin Rescues Dinner' By Robin Miller Photographs by Ben Fink Clarkson Potter -- 2009 Buy it on Amazon
In the desolate land of "quick fix" cookbooks, recipes tend to be uninspired, trading flavor for time. Food Network "Quick Fix Meals" and "Robin to the Rescue" hostess Robin Miller seeks to change that stereotype with low-fuss, high-flavor cooking in her newest book, "Robin Rescues Dinner."
Featuring 52 weeks of seasonally appropriate recipes, the lexicon crams in some 350 formulas for delicious eating. As a bonus, it includes major timesavers, like bulk (cooking ahead) tricks and corner-cutting tips.
Though perhaps erring on the side of conservatism rather than that of innovation, Robin turns out excellently executed staple dishes with remarkably low-overhead ingredients, either involving surprisingly short grocery lists or relying heavily on pantry staples.
See what we tested and whether it's worth buying after the jump.
So pop culture has come to this: A former figure skater perhaps best known for being a goofily ironic punchline to a "South Park" song has his own show -- and it's a cooking show. Die-hard foodies, take note: "What Would Brian Boitano Make?" is not for you.
This is not to say it operates at Sandra Lee levels of non-cooking: At no point does Brian (whom we interviewed) crack open a packet of supermarket taco seasoning for some zing or create a lush tablescape out of freshly raked autumn leaves. But it is, shall we say, a little on the frothy side for anyone wanting to learn the proper way to braise a quail. (Though the guy sure knows how to strain his juices for a mango-tini.)
No, this is one of those "lifestyle" shows the Food Network is so adept at churning out -- more tailored to the host's persona and his or her niche than anything else. And to judge by the first episode, Brian's self-professed niche would be San Franciscan guys who like to entertain their single girlfriends, prepare fussy little crudités and "ride bikes on rainbows!"
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