Is it just me, or is Ramsay getting a bit soft? He barely popped a neck vein this week, and when he tossed dingleberry Mike, he merely made a little poem: "There once was a cook named Mike, who couldn't cook fish, or any other dish, so I told him to take a hike." That's positively adorable.
Again we the viewers are left wondering why he amassed this particular selection of future executive chefs. There are rumors that the entire show is just for TV, and that none of the winners ever actually end up as executive chefs in restaurants. Season 2 winner Heather West only became a Senior Chef at his Vegas joint. Same with Season 4 winner Christina Machamer. Other winners have accused the Ramsay machine of treating them like "line cooks," and winner Holli Ugalde went as far as to tell UK's Daily Mail that Ramsay "betrayed" her by not giving her the head chef position at his London Savoy restaurant. The only person who shows any promise this season is Jessica. But what do you expect when most chefs present "signature dishes" like chili mac and swordfish with mint sauce?
The Red Team is ahead now, composed of women who actually seem to get along with one another, sadly. The Blue Team is like 10 different incarnations of Fred Flintstone, and I can't tell one from the other. Watching them all huddled on the carpet, cleaning up 200,000 pennies ("Lost revenue!" screamed Gordon) was particularly humiliating. Meanwhile, the gals lazed by the pool in what has to be the gaudiest mansion in Los Angeles. Things don't start to heat up in this show until the cast is further whittled down.
For now, sit back and enjoy the D-list celebs from soap operas who show up as "VIP dinner guests" and hope someone screws up enough to get cussed out. That's entertainment.
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