Recap: Top Chef: The Mia Monologues: Christmas Edition - 
by Flipit
When I was 19 years old, I participated in a year-long "performance" internship at the Burt Reynolds Dinner Theatre in Jupiter, Florida. I learned how to clean, build, tap dance (disaster) and fight at that Dinner Theatre. For Christmas and New Years, they pulled out the big guns and booked Robert Goulet. In the Dinner Theater world, that's like landing Madonna. I fought tooth and nail to be assigned as his personal assistant for the week, and I beat out Nathaniel, who was a fellow intern and a major shit head. The year's toilet scrubbing and tap dancing was all leading to this moment. Robert Goulet was gonna make me a star!
I only had to spend five minutes in his dressing room to see that dream die. He handed me a two page to do list and refused to speak as he walked around in his tightie whities (yikes) and hummed. I got the balls to hum along with him and he "playfully" (kiddin', kid) threw a slipper at my head. One night, he stared at himself in the already clean mirror I was windexing and said "I'm hungry," as if performing a mouth warm up. I silently brought him a can of Planter's Mixed Nuts from his list. He slammed them down on the sink. "These are salted! Change 'em!" Was this a test I had to pass for him to trust me and make me famous? I scrubbed those f***ers like they had cancer on them. By the time he got back from sound check, the unsalted nuts were waiting for him in a candy dish. They were still a little damp, but when he ate them he wasn't upset. He smiled sadistically at me, and I realized Robert Goulet just schooled me on what a piece of shit I am. To this day, I have never felt as worthless as I did the Christmas I was forced to wash Robert Goulet's nuts.
This week, Top Chef taught us that silence is deadly, more is more, and if you can't stand the nuts, go down bitchin'.
We start in silence. Without Frank, the loft is very, very quiet. Not a creature is stirring, not even a monkey. Wait...the monkey stirred. But Marcel woke up later than usual this morning, giving his loft mates, and us, an extra fifteen minutes of quiet time. For that, we should all thank Frank. You'd think that people would be happy to have some stillness for once, but the mood among the remaining Chefs is decidedly awkward.
It's kind of sad that no one had anything nice to say about Frank's absence. Most just chose mother's suggested path and said nothing at all. Sam complained that Frank "grabbed him" when he was eliminated and broke his knife bag. That emotional gorilla! Way to be sensitive, Sam. Let's not forget, Frank was a gentleman. Show him some respect.
Prosecution Exhibit A
I feel pity for the big lug when we find out today's challenge involves a table stacked with liquor. This was his dream challenge. The Guest Judge is Kristin Woodward from Oysters Restaurant in Cornona del Mar. She's a "mixologist" (re: bartender). Kristen smiles a big city-wide beauty pageant smile, but she looks like one of those girls who'll scratch your face if you even look at her boyfriend's hog. Kristin is a big girl with a tattoo on her shoulder and crazy hair, and because I am afraid of her, I love this Guest Judge. The challenge is to create a cocktail using Bailey's and other dessert liqueurs to go along with a tasty holiday morsel for party season. Kristin looks like she's sipped every trick in the book, and don't let her open mouthed grin fool you: behind almost every beauty pageant smile lies a calculating sneer. All I want for Christmas is a nasty Guest Judge, and I have a feeling Santa might deliver this year.
Miss Corona Del Mar, 1991
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