"topcheflasvegas" news and stories

'Jersey' Mike Isabella. Photo: Bravo.

Now it gets ugly. This is when the tears start flowing, the chefs get sick to their stomachs and the not-quite-least-deserving go home just a little bit before their time. That's right, we're over halfway through the Vegas season of "Top Chef" -- episode seven, to be exact -- and for the most part, the wheat has been separated from the figurative chaff. Only the best remain, and the smallest misstep could cost them.

Well, that's not entirely true: Cheftestant consensus would have it that Robin -- she of the fiery red hair, weird lips, incessant nattering and "I will survive" cancer back story -- should've been gone weeks ago. And in a double-shot of reality-show irony, this week saw her randomly partnered on a team challenge with her nemesis, Jersey Mike -- just about the only person who annoys us more.

Admittedly, the man can pull together the occasional impressive dish, and once you get past his egotism -- best signified by his countless rocker-fist salutes to himself -- you might uncover the Fonzie-like charm that lurks somewhere within. But when he's presented with a grocery bag full of Asian ingredients and doesn't have a clue as to what to do with them, you kind of wish he would just suck it up and play second fiddle, if only for a moment.

Instead, we get the team-challenge friction that only "Top Chef" can provide: Jersey Mike blithely quipping that his game plan involves "throwing out all the stuff" Robin cooks. The ever-humble Ash makes suggestions to would-be superstar Michael V., but, after being rejected, chooses instead to decorate the dinner table, tail between his legs.

Warning: Elimination results after the jump.

Photo: Frazer Harrison, Getty Images

A "Top Chef" host has a little something in the oven -- and it's not a Quickfire dish.

Reps for Padma Lakshmi confirmed to Usmagazine.com that the former model, burger spokeswoman and Emmy winner is pregnant with her first child after a multi-year struggle with endometriosis.

The 39-year-old co-founded the Endometriosis Foundation of America earlier this year in an attempt to raise awareness about the condition in which uterine lining accumulates in other parts of the body, sometimes leading to chronic pain and infertility.

Lakshmi's three-year marriage to novelist Salman Rushdie ended in divorce in 2007 and the identity of the father has not been publicly revealed.

Robin, the thorn in Top Chefs' sides. Photo: Bravo.

Toby Young really missed his potatoes last night. In his return to the "Top Chef" judges' table, the snarky British author and all-purpose pundit was presented with a couple of deconstructed dishes that, at their best, would've celebrated his homeland.

At their worst, however -- and as prepared by Ash and Laurine, respectively, they were at their worst -- the two concoctions were an outright affront to the dear old Blighty: fish 'n' chips and shepherd's pie. Even guest judges Penn and Teller, chosen for their skill at deconstructing magic tricks, couldn't contain their disgust.

Credit Laurine for at least trying: Her cube of halibut, pile of zucchini relish and smear of tomato confit was what an eager community college-student might think deconstructed cuisine should look like. But the all-important tuber was merely represented by a tiny communion wafer of chewy, parsley-infused potato. Missing "what you call fries, what I call chips," Young and company summoned her to the loser's circle.

Ash's, meanwhile, was a mess of elements on a plate, ranging from inconsistently cooked lamb chops to pea puree, glopped on in a desperate attempt to make up for a potato-parsnip side dish that was "too gluey" to serve. As if that admonition wasn't enough, the young cook went so far as to confess that the only shepherd's pie he had ever tasted was his own, which brought to mind nothing so much as Jodie Foster in "Nell," living by her own special language that no one else could understand.

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.

Eli, Kevin, Ron and a lot of attitude. Photo: Bravo.

Cocky much? You'd think that in the highest-stakes episode yet this season, a bunch of young cooks with their reputations on the line would be too busy sweating the details to gloat.

But on Wednesday night's tribute to the art of French cooking, awe quickly gave way to a swaggering show of braggadocio the likes of which we haven't seen since Eminem was doing freestyle rap-offs on the streets of Detroit. Chalk it up to nerves -- or ironic editing -- if you want, but when the headstrong, "I'm better than my brother" Michael V. seems the most shy and unassuming of the bunch, you know something's out of whack.

Sure, a few were in awe: Not only did the cooks have to make snails for Daniel Boulud in a quickfire challenge, but none other than Joël Robuchon held court at the elimination dinner.