I love Top Chef, though I admit that it doesn't quite work as a reality TV show. It is impossible to touch, smell, or taste the food, making it difficult to judge the outcome myself (on Project Runway, I can just say, "ugly ... so ugly!"). It leaves me unfulfilled—store-bought TV snacks are no substitute for the winning mocha tart with peppercorn crumble and cumin-papaya coulis.

But there is one thing that I never miss the chance to try: the foam. Marcel's foam, to be exact. The 26-year old, who is a cross between a prententious prep-school WASP and the gayest kitchen queen ever, LOOOOVES foam. He puts it on everything: coffee foam, cherry foam, KC Masterpiece foam. I'm assuming this means shaking up some ingredients with egg whites, but Marcel squirts the stuff with such panache and ceremony that he might as well have whipped diamond dust into the mix. And everyone has let him get away with it.

Until now. Top Chef, like all great reality programs, can base an entire episode on what should be a three-second conflict, and the most recent installment centered entirely around the infamous foam and the dramatic arc therein. What's up with the froth, Marcel? Perhaps it disguises the fact that you are a shallow cook with no world experience! It creates an "I hocked a loogie" look on your pastry! And chef Ilan thinks you can "Take your foam and shove it!" Not since rabies was a threat has foam gotten so much shine.

Marcel got to stay, but he can no longer fall back on his favorite garnish. And I'm not quite sure what he'll do when he can't spritz tiny clouds of flavor over everything. Perhaps he'll pick a new poison ... blueberry-mutton sprinkles, anyone?—Rachel Syme

Links
• Make foam!
• What is it, anyway?