Getting Real: Top Chef Edition

My name is Sarah and I'm a reality show addict. Well, not entirely. I draw the line at "The Bachelor," and I've never seen an episode of "American Idol." But if it's food related, I'm there, glued to the tube. I've seen them all: "Iron Chef"; "Chopped." I even slogged through "The Restaurant," the short-lived NBC series starring Rocco DiSpirito and his nemeses/banker Jeffrey Chodorow that ended in litigation.

Naturally, I'm watching the latest season of "Top Chef," which debuted last Wednesday on Bravo. This time we're in Vegas, because according to judge Tom Colicchio, Sin City is also the dining capital of the country, second only to New York (who knew). Last week we met the seventeen new contestants, including two brothers and a sous chef who worked for Eric Ripert at Le Bernardin. Although the theme for the elimination challenge was "my biggest vice," no one's really broken out of the pack. (In the end, Jen Z was sent home becaue her chile rellenos -- her sin was her temper-- didn't pack enough heat.)

We'll see what tonight's theme will be but I'm hoping Jesse from Maryland is next to go (she of the impressive body art and facial piercings). She may braise a mean chicken, but I can't look at those double lip studs for the next sixteen weeks.