‘Top Chef’ & Sexism: How The Reality Show Has Damned — And Redeemed — Female Chefs

Top Chef is the best food show on television. There’s no argument. As culinary competitions go, it’s perfect. The show itself is a technical marvel — a perfectly paced and expertly edited feast.The challenges are full of technical demands, emotional drama, and bigger celebrity guest judges than on any other program can boast. And the contestants don’t just know how to vamp for the confessional cam; They’re legit rising stars in their industry. Top Chef is as much a place to get the drop on the next big culinary master as it is to get a heaping dose of entertainment. Again, it’s perfect. And yet, even the best can do better.
Top Chef‘s relationship with its female chefs has sometimes, well, sucked. I originally thought I would be tactful about this and politely say that when it debuted in 2006, Top Chef dealt with the inherent misogyny in the culinary world “very poorly.” But I recently rewatched all of Season One and the proper word is “yikes.” The first season doesn’t simply fail its female chefs. It damns them. With one notable exception — Lee Anne Wong — the women of Season One were cast as heels, hotties, and/or totally inept. Episode Three kicks off with a particularly galling scene: The show quick cuts from one chef, Brian Hill, saying in confessional: “I was in the top three in the sexy dessert challenge, but I was disappointed that Andrea was eliminated,” to him telling another chef, “Andrea really — her body’s so hot but her display of food was so whack. Woof. Her ass was bananas.” The next thing we see him say, captioned is “There’s some more ass left, though.” And then the show cuts to Candice Kumai, the youngest chef in the competition and a former model. She is written off by essentially everyone in the house. Her casting on the show seems to be to provide eye candy.

The messaging is awful. The show knows Brian is being awful. The producers know it’s awful! So much so that they splice in an interview with Dave Martin politely saying he’s not a fan of Brian’s in between these comments. But because of the editing, the show is purposely not pushing the point. His comments are also matched with b-roll footage of Andrea Beaman, a very zen character who is more interested in promoting nutrition than cutting throats, doing sun salutations on the roof. Now over the years, other chefs have been fawned over. Season Two’s Sam Talbot always seems to inspire giggles and blushes when he returns, but Sam is still respected as a chef, by the show and the contestants. Brian can literally only find value in his female competitors according to their body type and the show’s editing helps him do this.
And then there was how the show treated its first ferocious female chef, Tiffani Faison. From the start of the series, it’s clear that Tiffani, Lee Anne, and Harold Dieterle are probably the three strongest chefs. Meaning, they had obvious talent, classical training, and industry buzz under their belts. About halfway through Season One, Tiffani Faison was singled out as the show’s “snake,” even though…she didn’t really do anything wrong? I’m serious! You might remember Dave Martin’s “I’m not your bitch, bitch!” line or Miguel Morales hissing at her after she criticizes him at judges’ table, but after rewatching the season, nothing Tiffani has done is worth this vitriol. If anything, she’s punished for her focus and confidence. Later, Jennifer Carroll got a similar edit. What’s weird is that in Season Three, the show’s main heel, Hung Huynh, gets to win the whole thing. Men can be difficult, cruel, and cocky in the kitchen. Women who do the same get cut down before they can win the whole thing. Ahead of the finale, we see Harold and Dave ostracize her, and there’s an interesting choice of shots: the boys hanging out in their room, joking as comrades, and Tiffani putting her lonely teddy bear to bed. Again, these are shots the producers chose to highlight to tell the story they wanted to tell.

By the numbers, things are bad, too. In 14 seasons, only 4 women have actually won the title of Top Chef, and it wasn’t until Season Four that a female chef won. (Admittedly, the numbers are even worse for black and Hispanic chefs, but that would be another essay.) But Top Chef has gotten better over the years. In fact, you can almost look at the show’s celebrated All-Star Season as a turning point. So much so, that half the winners since Season Eight have been women, and two finales have been a showdown between two women. As uncomfortable as the casual sexism on display in early seasons of Top Chef is, recent seasons have come light years ahead. It’s unclear whether this a positive reflection of a shift happening in culinary culture, or if the producers have done a better job finding strong female chefs — and treating them as equal competitors — but the shift is there. Top Chef once damned its female chefs, and now it has redeemed them.

If you want the clearest evidence of how far the show has come since it started, just compare how the female chefs are treated in Season One versus Season Fourteen. Last season’s finale was an incredible display of feminism. It wasn’t just that the finalists were both talented female chefs. That had happened before. But Shirley Chung and Brooke Williamson’s final showdown is treated as a truly competitive battle between two vibrant women who respect each other, and yet who both eagerly want to win. Neither’s confidence is considered a ding against them. It’s the force that drives them forward. There’s even a moment where Shirley has to decide whether or not to share some protein with Brooke. Shirley is allowed to gripe a little about the situation. Brooke wants her back up protein as a first choice, and Shirley, ever in competition mode, knows that it’s her prerogative to screw Brooke over. She doesn’t, but she’s not a martyr about it either. She explains with a gleeful grin that if she wins Top Chef, she wants to be able to say she beat Brooke at her best. It’s subtle shade, but it’s appropriate for two chefs who also are vocal about respecting one another.
Of course, the real moment that stands out is when Shirley and Brooke get to see their loved ones ahead of the final showdown. Both women are shown with supportive partners, and Shirley gets to see Brooke interact with her young son. For many professional women, there’s still an avalanche of naysayers who say that you have to choose career over family, or even a partner. Shirley admits in her confessional that she never thought she would be able to juggle being a mother with being a chef, but that Brooke has inspired her to consider having a family. Not all women are meant to be wives and mothers, but in this moment Top Chef is showing that a woman doesn’t have to feel forced out of a family life to be good at her job. She can have it all.

Top Chef is still not wholly perfect when it comes to inclusion. Some of that must be a reflection of a world that’s still incredibly imperfect. But it has come a long way in how it treats the hopes, dreams, and aspirations of its female competitors.
Top Chef Season 15 debuts tomorrow, December 7 at 10/9 C on Bravo.

Where to Stream Top Chef