On the nose I detected a whiff of watermelon interspersed with strawberries and beach. Yeah, beach. Think northern California beach, early morning, breezy and cool. Just a whiff of *that.*
While I walked out of VSJ without joining the club, that was by the thinnest of margins and utilizing a willpower I didn’t know I had.
I didn’t think it was possible, but this show makes the great Alton Brown, a self-deprecating, incredibly gifted, and spontaneous, intelligent chef, look like a jerk. He’s become the Chuck Barris of the Foodie set.