I woke up yesterday morning to find the following text message on my phone sent from three different people: "The Elves are coming to Boston tomorrow!" The wheels started turning as I began waking up, and I realized that the texts were referring to the casting call for season seven of "Top Chef" by Magical Elves production company in Boston today. After a few more minutes passed and I became fully conscious, frustration began to settle in as I remembered how miserable I've been while watching the show recently.
I am completely fed up with "Top Chef."
If you would have told me when the show premiered in 2006 that I would come to loathe "Top Chef," you might as well have tried telling me that Cocoa Krispies can boost your immune system. Who would have thought you would be right on both accounts! (In case you haven't strolled down the cereal aisle lately, Kellogg's has added a lovely banner to Cocoa Krispies boxes that claims the cereal "Now Helps Support Your Child's Immunity.")
My love for "Top Chef" steadily grew during its first three seasons. The show was completely innovative, combining wild challenges with competent up-and-coming chefs and credible guest judges. (Don't even get me started on the athletes and actors who are judges on "Iron Chef" — some of them don't know the difference between a chicken and a turkey.) The earlier challenges emphasized the characteristics of a top chef; it makes sense for the "cheftestants," as they're known, to cook a meal with calorie restrictions or to cater an exclusive party for 60 people. It was a particular thrill to see icons like Eric Ripert and Wylie Dufresne taste and critic the food of younger chefs. "Top Chef" was entertaining and educational at the same time.
Then season four hit and "Top Chef" became more like a reality show that involved food rather than a food show that happened to be a competition. I found myself tuning in to see what antics Spike and Andrew were up to rather than what food they were cooking. It also became extremely predictable — you knew that Richard and Stephanie were going to make it to the finals after the first two episodes aired. Season five was completely uninspiring: None of the chefs were particularly talented, and the challenges were either too mundane or too over-the-top to be realistic. The only person who was fun to watch was Fabio. I used to stop everything I was doing to watch seasons one through three, but by season five I didn't care if I missed an episode. When I did watch, I was incredibly bored and could predict who was going to be eliminated within the first five minutes of an episode.
I was extremely hopeful for season six. The cheftestants had such impressive résumés — some chefs had been nominated for James Beard awards and had worked at Michelin-starred restaurants — but for some of them (read: Michael Voltaggio) this has led to so much snobbery I can't stand to watch them. The Vegas-themed challenges come off as extremely kitschy; was it really necessary to randomly have showgirls parade through the kitchen on the first challenge?
I think I have become completely disillusioned with the show because it's been too much, too soon. There have been six seasons in three years, and season seven will probably air over the summer. Unless the producers find a way to mix things up — and I don't mean just move locations again — I'm honestly not sure if I'm going to tune in. I've gotten to the point where I am voluntarily going to pack my knives and go.
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Caryn Horowitz is a senior majoring in history. She can be reached at Caryn.Horowitz@tufts.edu.
