Top Chef Canada Episode 8 Recap: Skin me a peach, leave the fuzz for my pillow.

The REAL Jimmy Stewart sporting glasses that are so cool present day
Chef Jimmy Stewart could never hope to pull them off.

So...this $100,000 prize courtesy of SPONGE TOWELS? Is it $100,000 worth of SPONGE TOWELS? Cause, if I'm being honest, that would be kind of awesome. (P.S. SPONGE TOWELS!!!)

The hate that I'm filled with during the opening credits only grows with every passing week.  Now half of these people throwing gang signs and kicking lemons are losers!

The only French man in Calgary is only 30?  He seems more mature than that somehow.

Oh, Jimmy's talking about how he let his immaturity get the best of him last week again.  Shut up, Jimmy Stewart. There's four words I never thought I'd say until the dawn of Season 2 of Top Chef Canada.

OK, that was a completely terrifying shot of Carl sharpening knives talking about how much he misses his girlfriend.  And Carl's not even one of the creepy ones!  I fully expected him to yell "AT LAST! MY ARM IS COMPLETE AGAIN!" at the end of that shot. That one was the musical theatre geeks. I know you're out there. You know I know you're out there.

Time for the QUICKFIRE! It's the chef's skills competition. The first order of business is to finely dice as many shallots as they can in three minutes. There are bowls of shallots on the counter that look so pretty I'm actually considering using a bowl of shallots as a centrepiece. That's weird, I realize, but not as weird as, say, half the contestants on this show.

One of these days, Not-Padma is going to get knocked over by one of these maniacs who choose to jump over a table instead of walk around it.

"I started to shake and now I'm just praying there's no blood in the bowl" says David. This is such an awful visual...I just...ugh. *think of kittens* *think of kittens* *think of kittens* AND Jimmy Stewart is bleeding all over his board. This is like when they couldn't identify chicken while wearing a blindfold. Stop making this so complicated. Cut some damn shallots.

Also? "My knuckle's bleedin' BERT!"

The only French man in Calgary has done a lovely job with his shallots. Headband's look perfect, but he's not moving onto the next technique round because he didn't have enough volume. Neither is Trista, who is inexplicably still in this competition. She should give seminars in staying under the radar when this whole thing is over.

We're frenching lamb racks. Which sounds really, really dirty now that I think about it. And then McEwan says, "OK Carl, let's take a look at your rack" and I'm thinking maybe Not-Padma is feeling a little left out. Just a hunch. And then Trevor proffers, "I know how to handle a piece of meat" and I'm suddenly understanding why viewer discretion is advised.

Hey Dave Frishberg fans, now we're peeling grapes. The only French man in Calgary is the only one who looks like he's confident with what he's doing. He and Carl are the top two and now they have to cook something with all of the prepped ingredients. Both of their dishes look pretty lovely, but golden boy Carl takes it, winning not-immunity (those days are over), but instead winning $1000 worth of knives. Perhaps that creepy knife sharpening shot was foreshadowing?

ELIMINATION CHALLENGE!

Cook an on set meal for the cast and crew of "Lost Girl" which looks like every other shitty sci fi syndicated TV series shot in Toronto. Not-Padma explains that the crew want to eat something hearty, the cast want something light (actors! eye roll!) and there are other dietary restrictions they'll need to work with.

Michael Blackie from the NAC is the guest judge. That's more like it. This guy knows how to cook for performers.

So they're working together as a team on a Mediterranean Buffet.

Basically, opening the Drake made David crazy. That's what did it. Good to know. Good to know.

Cute alert: Headband's unpacking his knives, "you're gonna have some fun", "you're gonna have a good time!"

"If I don't exercise, I'll get so fat it's not even funny" - Trevor

It really looks like they have a good variety of yummy stuff. It also looks like catering is HARD.

David is not OK. The other chefs seem to think it's fun watching him be all jacked up.

Anna Silk, Richard Howland and K.C. Collins are joining Michael Blackie as guest judges. They're lucky enough to be working actors and unlucky enough to be on something called "Lost Girl". Seriously. Are these shows ever not awful? Am I wrong about that? Cause I WILL stand corrected if I'm wrong.

Trista's seafood salad fails. Surprised? No. Trevor's quinoa salad and his caprese are both big hits. They look simple and yummy and like ideas I might actually be stealing and adapting. THAT is a first in this competition for me. Jimmy Stewart made boring green salad and vegan soup that Not-Padma says doesn't even taste like soup! What does it taste like? David's grilled polenta with veggies is a hit. Unhinged works for him, I guess.

Headband's pulled pork lettuce wrap should really be in my mouth. Golden boy Carl's chicken dish is nice but Ryan's grilled fish is underwhelming.

Trista's yogurt panna cotta words, The only French man in Calgary did not knock it out of the park with poached peaches or his last minute chocolate mousse. Aaaaw, poor French man.

BLUE ROOM OF DEATH!

Half of the contestants get called in: Headband, Trevor, Crazy David and Golden Boy Carl. Not-Padma's boobs tell them that they are the top four. I'm not even going to talk about Not-Padma's "breast or thigh" joke. Stop it, Not-Padma. Anyway, Headband wins! Yay, Headband!

Now it's the four losers who must evacuate the beer locker of self pity and face down the angry faces of the judges. Not-Padma's angry face is getting angrier and angrier every week. Do you think the judges ever corpse when they're trying to mean? I'd be all Anderson Cooper style giggly, I think. I'm thinking Jimmy Stewart or Trista might go home. But I just don't know. Here's the difference: Trista seems to know when she sucks, Jimmy Stewart "stands by his food". Whatever, dude.

So they're all losers, but Jimmy Stewart is OUTTA HEEEEEEEEERE! Go be a slimy 23 year old elsewhere, buddy boy. Not-Padma's restraining order should be coming into effect in three...two...

Next week, these poor bastards have to go camping. Oh, dear.