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Top Chef Power Rankings, Week 7: Waithe Waithe Don’t Tell Me

Bravo

Welcome to your Top Chef Power Rankings for week seven. “Carne!” was the actual episode title, but here are some additional suggestions:

AKA: Talk Beefy To Me
AKA: Where’s The Beef?
AKA: Waithe Waithe Don’t Tell Me
AKA: Less Frou-Frou More Soul
AKA: Xantham Gum?? …Get A Rope
AKA: Honey They Shrunk The Cow
AKA: It Never Got Beefy Enough For Me
AKA: What Can Brown Do For You

This week, the chefs got to work with legendary Tuscan butcher Dario Cecchini, a guy I first heard about when Bill Buford went to work for him in Heat (a wonderful food book). On the show he mostly showed up as the crazy Italian man who constantly shouts “Carne,” and, frankly, I could’ve done without the editing package of six different competitors saying “Carne!” like Dario.

Yeah, yeah, we get it, carne. How much better would it have been if Dario had a bad Italian accent from the twenties? And all of the judging had been done in it? Bran-done: You beef-a so small. Why you make-a Tom-a Colicchio cry?

The fun thing about Italian is that you can ask an Italian how to say a phrase, and then repeat it back to them in the most exaggerated Chef Boyardee accent possible as a joke and they’ll just be like “Yes! A-just-a like-a this!” (*hand motion like holding an invisible hawk by the feet*)

The show also did that thing this week where they give the chefs an absurdly short amount of time to cook a thing and then berate them for not cooking things that take much longer. I can’t believe you didn’t cook me a standing rib roast! For Christ’s sake you had an entire hour!

Actually, the chefs had two hours to butcher AND cook their meat cuts. What the hell? Come on, we watch this show for persnickety judging, not unfair judging (“You call this a gougére, you cretin? What, did your mother give birth in a stable?”).

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