The biggest laugh lately was the chef suing Gordon Ramsay because what was shown on his reality show wasn’t real. The second-biggest was the lede W buried in its feature on Gwyneth Paltrow: She’s going to be Molto’s co-host for a series on cooking in Spain. The proud spurner of jamon did name her daughter Apple, so she must have some food cred. But this is PBS, not the Food Network. Julia must be spinning. . . .
Every time I start to go all wobbly and think a ridiculously outsized ego should not be any reason to mock a guy, I read something like the item now up on the LATimes’ superb new food blog (yes, I will pimp my editors). Apparently this fall you will now be able to buy a Molto watch, for a price clearly targeted at Food Network groupies — to paraphrase the old New Yorker crack about the Michael Graves teapot: It costs $2,500 to $4,500, and it tells time. But I give the big guy points. He’s come a long way from licensing himself as a cheesy action figure. And I assume the limited-edition wristwear is guaranteed to hold up if you need to go rooting through wet garbage to make sure not an inch of carrot has been squandered by your wastrel cooks (my favorite detail from Bill Buford). Or maybe the carotene just won’t show.