Hell's Kitchen Review: Gordon Ramsay's Diary
31.07.11 - kitchen meat grinders
. It’s not worth it. You’re a ruggedly handsome, world-renowned, charming, accented, hugely successful-yet-down-to-earth Michelin star chef. Don’t give another restaurant to someone whose only culinary claim to fame is the ability to burn toast.” And yet, here we are. Back in L.A. to run another group of hopefuls through the meat grinder.
Over the past few weeks, the men’s team have absolutely taken the piss out of themselves, getting their asses handed to them by the ladies time and time again. Watching the Blue team in the kitchen is like seeing a clown car pull up and spill out with a horde of rabid chimps who proceed to destroy everything they touch and throw their shit at one another, but not before throwing it up to the pass for me to evaluate and serve to my customers. My God, Diary, it is bloody dismal. However, the drama with the ladies is worthy of an MMA bout. And while we’re on the subject, might I ask that they all just collect themselves, hop into some bikinis, and duke it out in a mud pit so we can please move the fuck on? Elise’s mouth runs so hot, so fast, that I’m shocked diarrhea hasn’t shot out of it yet. The attitude on the girl is absolutely relentless. Her most archest of nemeses, Carrie, was on the chopping block last week, but I kept her, not because she is a good cook, but because I owed a favor to the network to keep the drama unfolding. Why else would I have kept her around? Well guess what, Fox? It worked. I thought someone put an air raid siren in the dorms last night, but it was just the Red Team being as catty has humanly possible.
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