Bravo...the TV station that cares...

...about my mental health.
I was reading the blogs for Top Chef this week, and there was an apologetic blurb at the end from Bravo about the grammar and typo errors in the blogs; something about the program they're using loses characters and punctuation. I buy that for the characters, but not so much for the punctuation/syntax. Consider Tim Gunn, same channel, whose blog did have the character problem, but had reasonably clean syntax. A fragment is a fragment, and spelling a name wrong is still poor spelling, but I appreciate the gesture of apology. Evidently I'm not the only anal, eagle-eyed Bravo blog reader.
In other news, my back hurts, I have a lot of papers to grade, and I have to get groceries and do laundry. Nevertheless, I watched TV last night (while I was grading, of course). I put on my pretty new Vicky Secret babydoll nightie, with blue sky and cloud print, snuggled up with a blankie, and watched ANTM, bits of Lost and last week's Top Chef, the new Ghosthunters, and the new Top Chef. I did not watch The Evidence, because by that time I was so tired of channel flipping I needed to just settle.
ANTM was fairly normal; some drama, but I didn't grow to dislike or like anyone more. The photo shoots, one for a Sears and one editorial shoot, were interesting enough, not super exciting but just interesting.
Ghosthunters was spooky and delicious. Don't tell Paul.
Last week's Top Chef...I didn't watch that much of it, actually. This week's was exciting, and I decided that I'm on the outs with Harold, and am even more on the outs with Stephen than I was. Come on...you're cooking for humans with lives. It's nice to have people come to a restaurant, but if the only place you can cook is in that restaurant, or in what Tom Colicchio calls a controlled environment, you're not much of a chef. I like a versatile chef, not a specialist. (And Bravo, Tom, for bitching out the snobs last week.) Snubbing the microwave is a dangerous game indeed, and I love that Bravo showed that moment of one of the working-mother-judge's faces when Stephen was asking if they'd heard of plantains. Come on. These people have gone grocery shopping for 15-20 years. They have eyes. This lady rolled hers beautifully. Harold, boo to your microwave snobbery, but Bravo to finally embracing the challenge and opening up a bit. Stephen, you're 24, and already you have the snobbery of four people squirming around inside you. It's an amazing feat and I hope it gets you fired a lot. Sugar will catch more flies than your sourpuss (have you considered acting?)
And this is why I don't know if I could ever date or marry a chef. I like to cook, but if that person is going to turn his nose up at anything I make, my comfy squash casserole for instance, then I want no part of it. Chefs make me nervous. But, Abs, wouldn't you love it if that chef would cook for you all the time? No. Frankly, I'm not a fan of eating in restaurants that make me intimidated by the food, and I wouldn't want to eat that kind of stuff all the time. Squash casserole, with Campbell's cream of chicken, sour cream, and stuffing cubes, rules.
And can I just add that I'm sad Lee Anne and Tiffani got into it a couple of weeks ago? That was my dynamic duo. They both can be snotty, and I've lost respect for them both, but they're still my favorites.
If there's one thing I'm learning from this show, and wish the contestants would learn, it's that you absolutely have to respect and appreciate every single client that comes near you. You don't need to "work" them all, but you need to be nice, assess their needs fairly, and treat them empathetically. I think that's what I hate about the top chef system, actually. Certainly, the culinary world involves a lot of art, but it's art that has to be taken into the body and soul, that has to nourish, and if you can't be a nourishing person, then that art will never belong to you, nor you to it.