Why do I love Hell's Kitchen? Easy. The only way to win the contest is to successfully perform on the line in a working restaurant kitchen. Sure, there's lots of reality show rigamarole and goofiness, especially since the show is on Fox, but fundamentally, you just have to cook.

My fears for this season of Hell's Kitchen? Last year, none of the contestants were worth a damn in the kitchen. Unlike the first season, there wasn't a single person who deserved to win. (Although what they actually will win is up for debate – thanks, Leilani). Let's hope the talent level is higher this year.

30 minutes in: The giant Asian cowboy (Aaron) has cried, the women can't work together, and the editors have already laid the foundation for a pretend flirtation between the sex bomb (Melissa) and Ramsay, blonde (Bonnie) almost cries.

45 minutes in: The women are unable to recognize that a short order (Julia) cook might be the person to call on to help with fried eggs, Julia proceeds to cry – then cooks some damn fine eggs, Aaron breaks down and walks out – Ramsay consoles, men run out of everything, Bonnie almost cries again.

1 hour in: Ramsay closes the kitchen, Melissa wins (deservedly) and has to choose two people from her team for possible elimination, Joanna and Tiffany lobby for Julia's early demise (both of them should be the ones going – Julia cooked some damn eggs, bitches!), Melissa cries (because of tough choices, not Ramsay), Melissa picks Joanna and Tiffany, bye bye Tiffany.

It was the correct choice. Anyone who can't fry up a few quail eggs shouldn't be there. Even better, she threw Julia under the bus just because "she works at the freaking waffle shop!"

Now, the Eat My Florida official odds of who will make it to the final two: