On the plus side, Celebrity Cooking Showdown is fairly engaging. I found myself drawn into the event, despite fake audience enthusiasm and the silly contrivances the producers threw in (such as "missing ingredients"). On the downside, Alan Thicke's banal commentary was more distracting than helpful. It was clearly all added in post-production -- we could tell by the way he lilted his voice at the end of every comment as if he were reading a list of lines. His entire play-by-play effort had the disengaged, generic sound of Al Michaels on Madden 2006. There was no sense of urgency or spontaneity, let alone any traces of educational factoids. Then there were the judges. I enjoyed Gael Greene's crotchety remarks, mostly because she sounded like the sort of woman who spends all her free time browsing through Zabar's. But Colin Cowie -- this guy just has to go. It's bad enough that he coordinated Rob and Amber's wedding, but must we hear his take on Tony Gonzales' penne à la vodka too?

For those of you uninitiated to the ways of Celebrity Cooking Showdown, here's how it works. Three celebrities are paired with a professional chef each night. They must create a gourmet three-course meal for two judges in fifty minutes or less. Each judge will grade each meal for taste and presentation. There are three nights of competition (nine celebs total), and the chef with the highest score each night will move onto a finals round. There, they will cook again, and then the audience at home will vote on their favorite chef -- which doesn't really make sense since we can't taste the food. Anyway, on the fifth night, a champion is anointed, and on day six, the entire bonanza is cancelled. Anyway, let's take a look back at all the boobs, burns, and blunders of the competition.

Thicke and Mandel? FINALLY!

Off the bat, I'm incredibly concerned. The hour begins with Alan Thicke appearing on Deal or No Deal in an effort to drag the audience over to Celebrity Cooking Showdown. I've always felt strongly that these two men should never be in the same room together, and my fears are soon realized when they engage in some mind-numbingly awful badinage.

"Your show's cookin'!" Alan Thicke says, praising the game show.

"No, YOUR show's cooking!" Howie replies. Get it? Because it's a cooking show.

"Well, that's nice of you to say." Alan responds, as if we really believe that he's too dense to get the joke.