Hell’s Kitchen – Gordon Ramsay has an aneurysm

He’s baaaaack! My Gordon Ramsay. *sigh* Actually, he never really left, what with MasterChef and all, but on that show he is a kinder and gentler version. Hell’s Kitchen is the hard-core stuff baby, and don’t mainline it if you’re not ready. Once again, Gordon has 18 self-proclaimed chefs, and he ain’t scared to abuse them into submission. After all, he’s offering a hefty cash prize, and a restaurant of their own. You have to prove you can cut the mustard and make a decent f’ing risotto. I myself would love to talk to Gordon about this show and ask him if, this early on, he can already sense a winner considering he’s done this so many times now. And believe me, I’ve had opportunities through CliqueClack to be in phone conference with him and other writers. But something always comes up.  It’s like fate is keeping us apart. Sad really.

But as it’s 80 degrees in my office right now, I will move along before I am prostrate with grief and heat stroke. I loved the beginning of this season, when they picked up the contestants and whisked them away to the Orpheum Theatre, ran them in to hair and makeup, and positioned them behind a curtain to a roaring of the crowd that lay behind. Then, it turned out to be a huge yanker when it was only Gordon standing there clapping his hands slowly and smirkily putting them in their place. Quote: “Stars? My ass.” But when he says the word ass, it kinda sounds like music, because of the accent. Anyway, it was a great kick off.

And does my brain lack less cells than last season, or do I remember losing a “chef” to hospital on the first episode of season eight? Geez, Jason we barely knew ye! And he really looked bad too. Turns out, he just needed a bit of bed rest, and to get the hell out of Hell’s Kitchen. I must admit, I secretly thought no one would get kicked off tonight because he left. But my Gordon always surprises me and let Steven go. If you ask me, he was too fragile for the atmosphere anyway. It’d be like making me live with my Mother for a month. So, I was rather relieved for him.

As far as my headline goes, I say it because it seems each season Gordon totally loses it a lot quicker. Now it’s in the very first episode. If I was his wife … well, I’d do a lot of things. But the major thing I would insist on is a complete physical and several MRI’s before each undertaking. He’s not faking either. Or if he is, he’s studied with Lee Strasberg‘s ghost, and should change careers.

So, you saw the show presumably. Why would you be here otherwise? I don’t have to detail the “signature dishes” (of which Krupa’s pita with green crap was definitely the worst) or that the men won and got to hang with last year’s winner Nona, right? (Hey. Wear a bit more makeup sister.)

In a nutshell: I like Will as an early guess. Monterray spells his name stupidly, and can’t conceptualize garnishing, so he’s not long. Elise is going to be the trash talker, and Brendan is going to be the One We Love To Hate. Just see if I’m not right.

Whose on board with me? Huh? Who??

And by the by. Next time you’re really mad at someone, tell them “I wish you’d jump in an oven. That would make my life easier.” It kind of says it all.

Clacked by Tara Shrodes
on Jul 19, 2011 @ 00:40 EST5EDT