This webpage hopes to recapture the excitement that occurred during the epic culinary clash between Iron Chef Micronesia-Latvia and his challenger, Gustof Befuhlenscheide of the Grande Vienna hotel.

Kitchen Arena

Although the air of kitchen arena veritably cracked with anticipatory energy, the chefs seemed immune and the event began with professional bows and the japanese traditional 'presenting of the knives' ceremony.

Iron Chef left, Challenger right

Then, as is the custom of the challenger’s native Vienna, the two drank deeply of aptitude-enhancing hops tonic.

When the timer-starting shot was fired and the challenge ingredient revealed to be rice, the halcyon quietude was shattered as the two chefs exploded into activity.  Pans flew across the kitchen arena floor and frantic voices were heard to shout panicked scurrilities.

The Iron Chef, an honorable veteran of many kitchen competitions procured the selection of pans and spatulas, offering first choice of pans to his competitor.  After repeating the process with spatulas, and in a somewhat distracted state, he began to expound the assets and faults of certain spatulas, costing his side dear seconds of potential cooking time.

Recovered, (although not from his addled state, which would only worsen as the night progressed - undoubtedly due to the effects of the customary bottled palate cleanser of which he was such a strict adherent) he responded to the observation of the challenger, who had noticed that the stove burners were not arranged in an even manner and that only one large-sized burner was readily accessible.  The Iron Chef made a polite refusal of the coveted burner, insisting that his opponent take it and assuming that the request would be courteously returned.  Evidently the customs are different in Vienna and the Iron chef was, moments later, seen scratching his head and heard muttering something about rabbit season and duck season.

Instruments decided, the Iron Chef started immediately on frying rice while the challenger hurriedly set to chopping an onion.

Sensing a certain intangible crescendo of drama in the air, the challenger added his accent by procuring a lump of wrapped pork to the surprise and awe of everyone in the audience.  “My secret ingredient!” He declared, holding the ground pork aloft as if he were Moses returning with the word of god.  While his attention was rapt in arrogance, the Iron chef slid by unnoticed and snagged a pinch of chopped onion from the challenger’s cuttings.

As the challenger began to knead onions into his ball of pork, the Iron Chef produced a pack of bacon from the refrigerator.  Instantly the Challenger began to perspire – the very sight of such a powerful ingredient in the hands of the Iron Chef struck fear in his heart.  Heated words were exchanged through the hazy translation of Bavarian Beer and it became clear to the judges that a miscommunication had arisen.  But, with his hands helplessly absorbed in the pork, the challenger was unable to pursue his cause and the Iron Chef was left to do as he pleased with the prime porcine product.  Caught up in the overwhelming passion of his art, the Iron Chef exalted the choice slice of meat that he lay before him and, at the mercy of his vituperative tongue, unfortunate passerby were lashed soundly for their lack of appreciation.  In a sudden meditative silence the meat was sliced and deposited into the Iron Chef’s rice dish.

The challenger was facing his own crisis; he had been seduced by the pride of the pork and could not pull himself from the constant kneading of which he had, earlier, instigated – finally in a fit of superhuman will, he tore himself free and banished the pink meat to the searing heat of the Teflon pan.

In some occult ritual of genius, the Iron Chef began to vociferate loudly that he was “James Brown”.  An unfortunate camera man had the displeasure of crossing the Iron Chef’s attention and paid for his transgression with the receipt of many harsh words.

The Iron Chef was then occupied with peeling a garlic clove with his teeth before preaching at length his intentions for a theme of cheese.

A clever camera man was able to catch the challenger in a critical mistake as he unwittingly poured oil over his dish despite the fact that it was already simmering in a healthy viscous coating of pork grease.

The Iron Chef transitioned his cheese discourse into a solicitation regarding the dangers of eggshell while the challenger entered what is professionally known as “the zone” – a region of consciousness which only the strongest of chefs may ever hope of entering with any regard for personal sanity – cut off from the world, one becomes the dish.

Evidently, the Iron Chef was also in the zone, for when he came out of it, he was pouring fluid quantities of beer into his fried rice.  Overcome with self doubt, the Iron Chef tossed random ingredients in the direction of the challenger’s pan, instigating a minor fracas which was eventually quelled by the kitchen arena security staff.

His head cleared by the exertion, the challenger came to the shocking revelation that he had completely forgotten the frozen green beans that were to be his color compliment for the meal.  The Iron Chef smugly reflected on his own vegetable ingredients before realizing that his own dish was, in color, an unbecoming blend of “green and yellow”.

Iron Chef left, Challenger right

As the challenger began to smartly array leaves of romaine lettuce on his dishes, the Iron Chef lurched about within the refrigerator for a compliment to his own meal.  A trice folded flour tortilla stepped up to the task and a hasty spilling of “fried rice” accompanied it in occupying the judge’s dishes.

To the astonishment of all, the challenger opened a can of smoked oysters and with them garnished his dish.

The judges for the evening were: Famous Kabuki Actor Saturu Kuzookie, Japanese magnetic bullet train magnate Hirumo Uminhiri, and Conceptual International Aural Clairvoyant Kumi “Sporki” Suoriki.

First to be served was the Iron Chef’s course.

“It reminds me of my home town,” Saturu said thoughtfully, “in some ways it resembles the food we ate there.  The sparse presentation,” he continued, “reflects the humble root of this kind of dish.”  And, he agreed with Sporki Suoriki that he had never seen anything like it.

Hirumo left, Saturu right

“A strange, tangy, flavor,” Hirumo offered, “like a summer sun beating down on an orange orchard while I am breathing fragrant flowers.  Although, I must say the bite is somewhat offensive.”  Then he added whistfully, “I do like the egg.”

Sporki digs in

Next up for judgment was the Challenger’s course.

“As far as usability goes,” Saturu had to say, “I am a little confused.”  He went on, “An interesting dichotomy between salty and sweet.  I wonder what he was trying to tell me.”  He was interrupted by the ever jocular Sporki who, having just eaten an oyster, was making a mad dash in the direction of the sink where he gladly initiated the smoked sea creature’s seaward return.

Hiromo and Saturu taste the challenger's dish

Hirumo commented that perhaps, “Oysters were too bold of a move – this is not hamlet, we do not just throw oysters around.”

Then, in a surprise move by the Kitchen Arena authorities, a dessert round was declared.  The Iron Chef was immediately thrown into a rant concerning the length of blender cords and was heard to declare, “I’m a toaster, I want to move around the kitchen!”  The challenger coolly set about frying rice to a crisp and smartly cutting a bosc pear.

A brief foray into the ‘garden’ and the Iron Chef was, once again, dispensing indignantly self serving obscenities while spraying whipped cream onto his raspberry yogurt-rice concoction.

Sporki had this to say about the Iron Chef’s dessert, “Avocado? Prune Juice?” Before admitting that it tasted something like sugar cookies or breakfast bars.  Saturu was a little more decisive, “I find it hard to access the drink itself because of the cream on top.  Although when you do finally get to it it’s like you’ve gone through a journey and you feel like you deserve it.”

Next to be served was the challenger’s maple syrup, crispy rice pears.

“The syrup and the pear work well together like a bobsled team,” Hirumo mused, “Almost as if they’ve trained for this their entire life.”

“The crunchiness is an interesting contrast to the supple taste of the pear,” said Saturu.

Saturu and Hirumo became philosophical, perhaps intoxicated by the breathtaking art they had witnessed and combined to create these gems of eloquence,

“It’s like if the United Nations got together and covered themselves in syrup and played Twister… no Charades, or Musical Chairs, on my tongue.  This dessert is quite adventurous , it pushed the boundaries of the realms that I know dessert to be.  The other dessert was impetuous in its radical attack on the garden.  The leaf has been freshly picked and it’s dying even as it brings life to the meal.  That is very beautiful.”  But perhaps Saturu said it best when he reflected, “ I like to let my taste buds do the talking to me.”

Saturu, Hiromo and Sporki

The final ingredients lists (in order added)