Wednesday, March 12


I watched the first episode of Top Chef: Chicago, and was struck by the amount of profanity the participants used. Don't get me wrong: I don't expect a bunch of adults - competing adults at that - to be all dainty and proper. And I should disclose the fact that I have a mouth like a sailor on shore leave. (Insert gay sailor, and/or seamen joke here... see? I'm a true dirty birdie.) But I was blown away by how vulgar (and unintelligent) this new crop of chefs sounded.

I've always enjoyed Bravo's programming: smart, slightly higher concept and sassy, they appeal to both the stuffy intellectual and naughty sides of my personality. But there's a fine line between avant garde, and just plain odd; a distinction between prurient and pure trash; a time and a place for brass, sass and true grit... and no place for common, vulgar language on "arts" television.

I know I said, after Hung won last season (robbing the much more deserving Dale) I wouldn't watch Top Chef again, but I love the show format and general concept. But tonight's premiere was a real let-down.

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