Don't Go Breakin' Moi's Heart

I've been barking up the wrong tree, y'all. I should have been rooting for Top Chef's Stefan all along. Sorry. I forgot that, oftentimes, there's a valid reason for arrogance. Like oh, I dunno, competence.

Okay, so his dish last night was grody to the max, but you know what, out of the three men who stood in front of the judges for their own failures, he was the only one who didn't yak on and on about it. All he said was, "I apologize." No fancy excuses, no cry baby tactics.

Unlike my former boyfriend,


who completely fell apart and got himself booted off the show.
Darn it.

Stefan, on the other hand, remained silent and kept his gaze on his shoes. Which just goes to underscore the validity of Moi's Tenet #349 Defining a Mighty Fine Man: The ability to shut the hell up. And, when he does speak? He does it with an accent so we can barely understand what he's saying.

Don't screw this up, Stefan. You do, and I'll be forced to switch my allegiance to Carla the Kooky Love Child. And y'all know how I feel about hippies.

Still, last night, this bundle of sunshine wrapped in neurosis managed to make a rockin' crawfish dish in 20 minutes flat, effectively smokin' your and everyone else's ass. She is not, it turns out, to be underestimated. You have been warned.