Last night, I watched Top Chef for the first time. That's right, I was a virgin. It was a lot of fun, and now you all get to suffer through my observations about it--observations which have almost certainly been made countless times already, since the show's been on the air for years. But who knows? Maybe seeing it through fresh eyes gives me a fresh perspective.

First of all, a word about New York. My favorite city, the one I miss more than anything. It was fun to see all those different neighborhoods, and I thought it was cool that they sent the cooks to the outer boroughs. I did, however, have to laugh when the contestants checked into their apartment and nearly fell all over each other talking about how "this is the way to experience New York!" when they were clearly in New Jersey. A view of the Manhattan skyline from your balcony is not, actually, the best way to experience NY, in my opinion.

The show itself: I enjoyed the structure, with the many challenges and lots of people heading home right away. They start out with so many! It's hard to care much that first day, although I will say that most of those chefs are doing a great job of making me dislike them in thirty seconds of screen time or less. I was happy to see that first chick go, and I'm already rubbing my hands in glee for the day when that ridiculous surfer boy gets the boot. Pay more attention to the food and less to your hair! Also not a big fan of the European contingent; they give Europeans a bad name with all that exaggerated snottiness. And the woman who cooks by spirit guide? Uh, no. Out of all of them, I probably like Jamie, the tattooed exec chef at Absinthe in San Francisco the best. But second, I loved Patrick! (I know, big shocker.) Sad. Poor, sweet little gay boy, I knew he wasn't long for the competition, but I hoped we'd get him for at least another episode or two. Oh well.

I loved the judges. Jean Georges is one of my absolute favorite chefs ever. His food rocks my world and his persona on the show gave me the happy. So gentle and soft spoken! But quite firm and decisive. Stinger and I decided he's probably at the point in his career where he doesn't have to yell and scream; he whispers. In his kitchen, you can hear a carrot shaving drop. I like Tom, even if his food has never been as sublime, to me personally, as JGV's. And the Food & Wine chickie, thppbt. Whatever.

And then there's Padma. Seriously. What? Who is this woman? Leaving out the obvious jokes about a woman who clearly never eats being associated with a food show--watching the show for the first time, it was difficult to ascertain just what her role is. Eventually, Stinger and I decided that she's essentially Sigourney Weaver's character from Galaxy Quest: the gorgeous object of desire whose job is to talk to the computer and then repeat back exactly what the computer just said in full hearing of everyone.

Ariane stands nervously in front of the judge's table.
Padma: So what do you think about Ariane's dish, Tom?
Tom: I didn't like it.
Padma (gravely, to Ariane): Tom didn't like it.

It's as if Tom doesn't speak the same language as the chefs, so they need an interpreter. Hilarious.

Overall, I'd say that Hell's Kitchen is still by far my favorite guilty pleasure food show obsession. Gordon Ramsay is way more charismatic than anyone on Top Chef, and the smaller pool of starting contestants allows you to get invested in them quickly. Also, the graphics are way better. But Top Chef is in my DVR, and I'll definitely be tuning in next week.

Posted by Louisa Edwards at 10:36 AM