In continued Top Chef commentary, let us come next to my latest Cooking Crush.

You know what it doesn’t take to be a White House Chef? It doesn’t take being a really nice guy.

Sam has that, “I’m not that nice of a guy, because, fuck you, I’m a chef at the White House and I’m super pissed about the horrible shit we feed children, and you’re not Obama’s chef, and children hate you,” kind of way about him. It’s super hot.

Look how annoyed at you he looks!

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So this morning I get a (very thoughtful) email in my inbox from Tony of sinosoul.

The title, like the title of some of my pervier posts, is Chef Crush. In the email is a link to a picture of Chef Erling Wu-Bower, the sous-chef at popular Chicago gastropub, Publican.

“I think that’s your type?” Tony ventured to guess.

Considering I have done Chef Crushes on gay men, married men, old men, and hideous men, I was pret-ty astonished at how right on he was. But how did he know? What is my type?

Perhaps some magical mixture of the following?

a little Don Johnson (pre-Miami Vice):

a little 90s Parisian thug, ala La Haine:

a little ethnic:

a touch ambitious:

I’ve always liked talent:

Oh and I sure do like an accent:

someone who is both essentially and effortlessly cool:

wouldn’t mind if he could carry a tune:

old fashioned:

well-dressed:

real dreamy:

and perhaps most importantly, hilarious:

I could go on, I really could. But that oughtta be a good start for anyone else that wants to send a crush my way. Tony got it right on the first try but not everyone is always so lucky.

As my next cooking crush may I present the one and only Akhtar Nawab, of the former Elattaria restaurant.

Oops. maybe not the one and only.

Should we? Maybe take a? A bath in exotic spices?

Even if sometimes you’re a little fobby?

Yeah. I think we should.

I just read No Reservations and realized that, despite my first impression, I think Anthony Bourdain is actually hilarious and rad and, sort of justifiably obnoxious. Good writer, great storyteller, unabashed and unapologetic beast of a chef. I used to see him on TV and think, who the fuck does this guy think he is?? But after reading the book I feel like, Oh, I get it, he earned his stripes, he’s allowed to behave like that.

And I like that he dresses like this. Still.

And cooks like this. Or at least did.

I almost filed this under cooking crush but I can’t bring myself to be attracted to this in any way, shape or form.

Besides, not only is he married but I could never bring a guy like this home to my dad.

Unless…

Iron Chef Masaharu Morimoto. Odd choice, maybe.

But I bet he’s a real tiger.

Sweet baby Jesus.

Chef Marcus Samuelsson, Ladies and Gentleman.

What are you doing to me? With your little sauce brush?

And who, while we’re at it, was in charge of this awkward cooking utensil prop photo shoot?

You’re athletic, too?

Cause it sure looks like you’ve been workin’ out:

What’s your type, boo???

OH.

Yeah, I’m not really feeling you either. But we could be friends. Dinner in Lil’ Ethiopia? No? K.

Chef Govind Armstrong. Costa Rican Rasta Dreadlock.

Should we throw on all white linen and take a beach stroll?

Should we slow dance to some Kellz?

Or should we nap in the hammock but accidentally sleep through the night?

Collect seashells? Jump off waterfalls? Make ceviche?

What??? You were asking for it when you named your book this and you know it:

Call me?

Ok, I’ve debated about this one quite a bit. Frankly, I’m not usually attracted the ol’ pale skin/reddish hair color combo, but every time I do a Cooking Crush post, Bobby Flay comes to mind. And each time, I try to push him to the side, but the truth is, questionable thinning hair patterns aside, he deserves more than the back burner. I mean, he is crazy busy (so hot!) with all his majorly successful projects and TV shows, an incredible chef, and he likes it spicy. Me too, Bobby, me too.

Plus he’s an iron chef. And if you were gonna make out with a red-headed iron chef wouldn’t you prefer him

over him?

I know the truth hurts but success is sexy.

Just look how much fun hard work is.

Cleans up nicely:

Sighhhhh. If you weren’t so busy and so married, I’d throwdown with you. And I’d win.