TOP CHEF--- I KNEW IT !

Here's to the underdog. Marcel is obnoxious, but he's young and will learn as we all did, that people are the most important component of a kitchen. Still, I'm happy he made it to the finals. Maybe I saw myself in him, but oh God; I hope not! What irked me the most is he acts like a flaming queen, and I was certain there's an element of homohating in this. Most chefs I know are tolerant of other people's sexual preferences, but they tend to be out off by anyone who's woussy or weak.


This afternoon, I had an MRI after waiting an hour for my appointment. The previous patient kept moving to the music they stuck in his earphones, and they couldn't get a decent image. Who needs music in a place like that? They stuck these massive phones on my ears, supposedly to shut out the noise of the machine (didn't work), made me sweat bullets in that sci-fi shaft, and they didn't but could have stuck an air conditioner or blower in the billion dollar thing. I left the place, and walked west on 32nd street. I found myself in Little Korea, surrounded by lots of cute, slender trendily attired asians. There was not one storefront in sight that had all English signing.

The street reminded me of Chinatown, but I am familiar with Chinese food, and Korean is alien to me. After passing several 24 hour Korean buffets and food shops I turned into the one I was in front of, and found the buffet. I was stunned what I saw: everything appealed to the eye; there were intense colors: yellow, green, red, white, black, and all of it was begging me to taste. Hell, why not; my whole life of eating has been about beating a new path, and here was an opportunity.

Rows on rows of packaged delicacies, brightly lit, clean and fresh looking. Something for everyone. Glistening rolls of pork stuffed braised cabbage, seaweed rolls, chicken wings Korean Style, Korean sausages (awful to my taste), dozens of different dumplings, kimchee, fiery eggplant, deep red chicken grilled on skewers. There was so much, I had to try, but a cute looking guy explained the reddish ones were the "spicy" dishes. To a Korean, "little spicy is still too hot for my palate, so watch out.

Locating the styrofoam containers, I passed carefuilly along each one, and a gentle young man told me the "spicy"--meaning your mouth is on fire, were the ones with the red colors: chilis. Thus warned, I avoided being the virgin in the volcano on my first try.