I don’t remember how I was tipped off to the fact that the Top Chef finale would be filmed at New Orleans’ own Commander’s Palace restaurant. All I knew was that I had to go. I follow this show religiously, mostly because I’m a foodie who likes to indulge in what these chefs are cooking and (hopefully) live the best dishes vicariously, but also because, I must admit, the reality TV show aspect of it is addictive. I have never watched a single episode of Laguna Beach or The Hills and am bored by the likes of The Real World and Made, so I believe I have a carte blanche to choose and follow one such reality show in my life. Top Chef is my choice.
Jenna and I arrived at around 4:30 (this was a couple of Thursdays ago) and situated ourselves on a street corner to the view of Rocco DiSpirito, who was pacing on an upstairs balcony, talking on a cell phone and sporting a gallant suit.
Shortly after we arrived, a guy who worked at Commander’s came up and tried to bully us into leaving, as though his job depended on it. We agreed to cross the street to the opposite corner but informed him that the sidewalk was public property and we would not be forced off of it. Glaring, sighing, and angst ensued, but we settled ourselves across the street and looked ahead as Gail (she’s back!) and Toby came out respectively for their interviews. Sorry for the awful angles and obstructions; such is life when you’re relocated from prime seating to another patch of concrete ten feet away.
Soon after, I glimpsed something that truly made my heart sing: Fabio. (Spoiler!? I wish I knew…) Whether he made it to the finale or was just there with the rest of the cast (all of whom were at dinner at Restaurant August the night before), I don’t know, but I do know that it was him, in all his talented and badly-haircutted glory:
And, finally, Padma, the impervious wench (in the black bomber coat) who wouldn’t acknowledge our humble pleas (all we wanted was a glance!):
It quickly got dark, but we had made up our minds when it was daylight to stick around until we had to return home for dinner, so we did. Jenna’s stepdad was gracious enough to drop off some warm clothing. Although it did the job, keep in mind that it also belonged to Jenna’s stepdad, whose job as a carpenter necessitates odd cold-weather garb:
