L is for Tim Love, the cutest guest judge to appear on Top Chef in some time. 'Good tequila is made to be sipped - like a fine wine or a good craft beer,' he winsomely declared, before tasking our culinary combatants with a quickfire challenge involving food pairings with many varieties of Mexican agave juice.
L is for Lush, Lighthearted, and Lubricious, all of which are useful adjectives that might be employed to describe tequila's impish profile. Sadly, the marketing folks at Don Julio have not cottoned on to these valuable modifiers, requiring our chefs to shill for their product using descriptors such as 'aloe vera green-ness,' 'caramel woodsy notes,' 'sweet, smoky, and earthy,' and 'crisp and clear.' To be fair, aloe vera does have an L in it.
Lacklustre seemed an adequate summary of the quickfire dishes, although Chris J. paired his blanco with pan-seared chicken, lime vinaigrette, and something called 'puffed quinoa', which I thought sounded intriguing. A 45-minute search on Bravo's appalling website revealed that one puffs the substance in question by frying it in 350 deg oil until it becomes crispy and - you guessed it - inflated with its own importance. If I weren't boycotting quinoa until such time as Bolivian agriculture gets its priorities straight, I'd try it myself. It would make for a lively and luring gluten-free accompaniment to plain grilled proteins - especially if one used the red stuff.
L is also for my girl Lindsay who got a shout-out for her excellent pairing of anejo with salmon, fennel puree and brown butter sauce (tragically, she didn't win the $5000 - the prize went to Ty-Lor, whose name might start with an L. I'm not really sure, but I suppose it's possible that his unusual sobriquet is quite common in the distant galaxy from which he no doubt hails). Poor Lindsay! Upon hearing from her fellow cheftestants that her rack of boar-adorning kohlrabi slaw was watery, she lagubriously admitted that the news was 'gut-wrenching.' Never mind, Lindsay, I still think you're laudably lovely, with the sweetest little old accent this side of Lee County!
Loopy is how Heather behaved when working with Bev for the game-inspired elimination challenge. I say working, but it would be more correct to call it heckling, baiting, bossing, and bullying. Attempting to defend a substandard dish of insufficiently-rendered duck breast and pickled cherries, she blethered on and on about Bev's deficiencies in the kitchen during challenges past - causing Bev's allies (of whom there were legion) to spring into a sort of fending-off action. It was an unedifying spectacle, calling to mind the words 'snotty' and 'bitch', even though neither of them contains the letter of the day.
Losing heart is how I would describe the Heimlich Maneuver at this point, disappointed as he was by polenta side-dishes; black-and-blue venison; sweat-covered plates draped with 'bouquets of greens' (we call them salads in my house, but what do we know?); sweet-potato daisy chains; and nervous breakdown-inducing squab sausage. Is it my imagination or is the HM losing his enthusiasm for the process? He certainly doesn't seem to be enjoying himself at judges' table these days.
I know he feels: let down and listless. Or as Che would say, desinteresado.
I would say it too - but it doesn't start with an L.
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