Previously on Top Chef: Boston:
And that’s all you really need to know.
JK, a bunch of stuff happened actually. During an sudden death quickfire, Katie got ousted by George (who had previously been sent home in the first sudden death quickfire, so, karma, I guess?), and now he’s back in the competition. For the elimination challenge, the chefs cooked for Top Chef “superfans” and I wept silently.
Also, Adam went home. Anyway, this week, the chefs bring their coffee up onto some kind of awesome looking roof deck with a pool. They reflect upon their Top Chef journey and their lives. Katsuji gets a backstory montage, so probably he’s going home or maybe he’s going to win this week. Hard to say.
The chefs roll up to the kitchen and there stands Rob Gronkowski in all his doofy glory. He and Padma flirt, but you know what? I’m not even that mad about it. I am secure enough in myself and the fact that Gronk is a total meathead to not get jealous. I’m FINE.
Gronk has a hankering for some big ole sausages and apparently Padma does, too. So awkward, so sexual. Let’s get weird, guys! I love it! Anyway, the chefs have an hour to make sausage from scratch. And, wow, it is just rapidfire penis puns during the quickfire today. I’d joke about them or make some of my own, but I AM A LADY, GODDAMNIT. Melissa remarks that it’s a sausage party. Mmmhmm, I see you, girl.
George, seemingly, has no fucking idea what he’s doing. Go home, George! I’m over you and your pronunciation of kalamata (#neverforget). To be fair, a lot of people have trouble, and there are many a tiny and/or uncased sausage about the kitchen (lulz tiny, uncased sausages—OK, fine, I’m not a lady). Gronk actually sounds more like Groot than a human person as he daintily picks up some garnish off Melissa’s plate.
George, you’re such a dummy. First of all, he didn’t properly wrap his sausage up tight (always wrap your sausages, bros!). Secondly, he awkwardly tells Rob Gronkowski that he’s a football fan, but not a fan of the Gronk. ::facepalm:: That man could murder you with one hand, George. Plus, your football team (the Washington one) has a racist name and, also, is not very good at football.
Melissa is on the bottom, because her sausage was too small. Size doesn’t matter, Gronk! Gregory is also on the bottom. I wouldn’t feel too bad, though, guys. Something tells me Gronk’s preferences are not the pinnacle of culinary excellence. Doug and George are on top, and, somehow, George fucking wins. Ugh. GO HOME GEORGE. (Except that he won’t go home this week because he just won immunity. GDI.)