Wednesday Night is TV Night: Top Chef, Obama, and Why are Short Girls Awful?

Wasn't there time when I used to do something else on Wednesday nights? Didn't it used to be dancing night? Or cooking night? Or...coffee shop night? I don't know. But whatever I used to do, forget it. TV night is cheaper. And I'm less likely to contract herpes.

There was a lot going on tonight. Obama's speech on Healthcare, and America's Next Top Model premiere on at the same time. The premiere of my new favorite nerdness, Glee. And of course, Top Chef.

First, I had a difficult decision. Watch awkward messed up girls get glammed up, or watch awkward messed up men applaud on cue? Tyra won initially, cause shit, it's ANTM. It's an event. I mean, I read the blogs and the papers and the Move On letters, I know what the Healthcare reform bill basically is going to end up being, and I know what I would like it to be. But I don't know which bug eyed beauty will steal Tyra's heart by the end of the show.

This season though, Tyra left out water and her house turned into a gaggle of Gremlins. I have nothing against short girls. I am a short girl. But ANTM seems desperate to prove that short girls are crazier, more obnoxious, less mature, and straight up plain sadder than tall girls who actually have chances at being models. There was the token insane Christian girl. The melodramatic foster child who has a hole in her life nothing but Top Model can fill. The Louisiana trailer girl with the terrible accent and lead in her heels. The "I'm smarter and these girls just don't understand me" girl. And my personal favorite: Bambi, who will end up playing an elf on some SyFy movie at some point. There was lots of Tyra defense rants, about how shorter girls can rule, ect. That lasted till about the time they were judging the photos, and the judges openly pondered why everyone was so hoochie, to which Tyra pointed out that short girls don't think they can be models so they practice being sluts and video models. Oh, and she tried speaking in a French accent a lot. Which, as you will see later, was a theme.

So this is about where I decided that maybe this hadn't been the right decision, so I switched to the floor of the Senate, where Pelosi openly stared her comrades down from behind our Fearless Leader, until she had them standing to give ovations every ten seconds. It was very confusing and lackluster when Obama was just outlining specific items. Even he looked visibly confounded by some of it. "What, what did I say? Taxes? What?" But then he got all Super Speech Man, and brought out the deathbed letter wishes from Teddy, and cut open his heart with a steak knife, letting it flow into every dry and wrinkled crevice of the Medicare Council. There were a couple good jabs at the previous administration, and the anticipated Tossing of the Bone ceremony in which several Republicans actually moved, or stirred a little. I mean, I know he's good. I voted for him.

Glee was wonderful, especially the shot of Squirrel Woman crying in her car and singing loudly to the radio.

But let's talk Top Chef. We all know that's what I stayed home for.

So this was the dreaded Quickfire we all saw trailers for, where the loser gets eliminated! Because apparently, the judges got real tired real fast. They all had to make snail dishes. Kevin won because he made BACON JAM. Jesse got sent home. Yawn.

But then they pulled out the big guns. And by big guns, I mean the producers dug up the mummy of a squishy faced little man who invented French cooking, and is magical. Or as Ely put it, he wanted to meet Robuchon because he thought "he didn't actually exist and might be a unicorn." All the chefs were assigned classic French dishes to cook for the Magic Unicorn Council of France and All Things French. Except for Kevin, who got to join the Council, provided he could capture a kitten with silver eyes who makes the rain come when it sniffles. Or because he made BACON JAM.

You know, French cooking is sort of disgusting. It's all snails and frogs and old chickens and rancid milk sauces. It's like every really gross idea in the world, like cheese grown in caves and rotten fruit disintegrated in bottle for years, came from France.

But they're really good with bread. Probably cause yeast is super gross too.

So the magically glowing Puppet Master Robuchon sits at the table and conveys his evil judgments only in the sacred archaic language of the culinary arts. Everyone else blushes a lot and shuts the hell up when he talks. Except for Padma who seemed visibly fed up, and was practically suckling from the wine bottle to avoid rolling her eyes.

The frog legs by that Haitian guy and Robin were a disappointment. But it made me thankful to be an American, who doesn't have actual issues in her past, like days spent drinking urine in a boat and hating the French bastards who oppressed your country for centuries, only to have to swallow your bitterness and make their damn sauces for the Overlord of Darkness/Souffle.

Bryan and Mike I. made trout with deconstructed bernaise sauce, or rather Bryan got a sous chef for the day named Mike and told him how to do stuff.

The lobster by Ely and Laurine was a failure, but not quite bad enough.

Mattin the little Church Mouse decided to be a prick and speak at the table in French. Which was funny, cause after he left, the Grand Poobah noted that he spoke french well, obviously assuming he was from America because of the ton of bacon in his sauce.

Ash and Hector fucked up. I'll tell you right now. Hector went home. It is what it is. I think Mattin should have bit it, but it'll happen eventually.

Mike V. and Jennifer created a calming symphony of flavors in their artificial love bubble of a kitchen corner, summoned up by the amazing power of putting two people together who are really good at what they do. Jennifer actually looked like she was having fun today. So good for her. I adore her.

At judges table, despite Mike I.'s repulsive attempts to take credit for their entire dish, soft spoken Bryan won. And his prize? A job in the Kindly Wizard's kitchen for a week. Something which seemed to mean a lot to him, despite the fact he already has his OWN RESTAURANT.

I'd liked to sum up this completely unnecessary summary of tv shows you probably already watched by pointing out how much I hate the commercial below. Every time I see it, I feel creepy crawly, like there are fucking bacteria crawling all over every surface of the room.



Tiny little humans waving like broccoli is NOT COOL.