…is, er, ah, uh, I mean was on display daily at Alinea in Chicago. First, go back and read one of my early posts about this egomaniac chef who’s passing chemistry experiments off as sustenance, and charging $500 a seat for it!

Want more evidence? OK, then go watch the season two opener of the Netflix series Chef’s Table. Right?! While this culinary “magician” – and I use that term loosely – attempts to stake his claim on levels of inventiveness never before seen in this country, I fail to see why he’s got to drag chef Charlie Trotter’s reputation through the dirt, so-to-speak, to make himself feel better about extracting ridiculous sums of money for his nightly rendition of a “curated dining experience” in the Windy City.

I mean, c’mon, for Christ’s sake, really? After all, Charlie is f*cking dead…

Like I said over a year ago, I’ll take a ‘dog off the cart in front of the Art Institute of Chicago, (and my significantly greater chances of contracting botulism), before I’ll ever step foot in this apparent carnival of gastronomic delights. Oh yeah, I almost forgot, the food critic featured in this episode, Francis Lam, is as bombastic as the chef he’s fawning over, (it figures). Appeal? Zip. Nada. None. Zero. Hmmm, wonder why…

…whiteboarding a meal? Ugh, visions of Peter Thiel.

…exploring time? Wow, I had no idea this clown was operating at Einstein’s level in the kitchen.

…oooh, bored with your own menu after three months? Too bad, mebbe chefin’ ain’t for you after all.

But then again, it is all about you, isn’t it?

Nope. Sorry. …not even close.

If you’re going to charge me half a grand for the privilege and insist on wasting several hours of my life in the process, then it really should be all about me, don’t you think?

Sh*t, the dude is diagnosed with cancer. That sucks. Ironic, yes, but it still sucks. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, even this arrogant bastard.

Ah, but Grant survived – doubt Netflix would’ve devoted an hour to his egotistic endeavours if he ended up taking a dirt nap – and no, you won’t find my name on the reservation list at the ‘re-imagined’ restaurant anytime soon either…

…uh, make that ever.