When shooting for the final episode of “Queer Eye for the Straight Guy” wrapped in 2006, viewers wondered what the Fab Five had planned for an encore. Going solo, what could each “Eyer” do to parlay his unexpected fame beyond the proverbial 15 minutes?
Carson Kressley popped up in the Hilary Duff movie “The Perfect Man,” while the others have made TV cameos, landed endorsement deals and are busy developing various projects.
But one thing’s for certain: Food-and-wine guru Ted Allen isn’t starving.
With his refined yet likably unaffected demeanor, Allen has forged a follow-up career as a celebrity judge on cooking shows like the Food Network’s “Iron Chef America” and Bravo’s “Top Chef,” which launches its fourth season Wednesday.
It’s one more twist in the career of the Indiana native, who earned a psychology degree at Purdue and then headed for business school, before leaving to pursue journalism. He went to work for a community weekly in Chicago, which led to a job at Chicago magazine, where he started writing about food – and eventually caught the eyes of the “Queer” guys.
The Post sat down with Allen at Perilla, the Village eatery owned by “Top Chef” season one winner Harold Dieterle, to find out how he managed to became the best-fed man in show business.
Ted, you seem like a nice guy. How hard is it to give “Top Chef” contestants the ax?
My parents are Southern, and I was raised to believe that any time someone puts food in front of you, it’s good. So it’s difficult to be critical. But it’s not like you’re condemning somebody to death. Unlike some other reality show where they’re eating bugs or something, all of these guys are practicing their profession in front of millions of people. That’s a huge bonus.
Still, you’re usually pretty easy on the contestants. Are you the “Paula” of “Top Chef”?
It’s important to me not to be sarcastic or flippant about the work a chef does, because it’s difficult. “Top Chef” puts these people in a Petri dish and drives them insane. It’s more than about food; it’s also about personalities under pressure.
Your career began in journalism, writing food reviews.
Chicago magazine was one of the best jobs I’ve ever had. The dining coverage is excellent, it’s extensive. So I was sent off to seasonal menu tastings and to write profiles of new chefs.
“Queer Eye” came out of nowhere. Did you ever imagine that being your big break?
When the auditions happened, it was really just a lark. I had also begun writing for Esquire, so I was coming to New York fairly often to meet with my editors. I figured I’d come for the audition, have a couple nice dinners, crash on my friend’s sofa. Even after I got it, I thought, OK, we’ll shoot this crazy thing. I’ll get my $2,000 and a tape to show my friends, and that will be the end of it. Who ever thought a show with the word queer in the title would see the light of day?
When “Eye” ended, were you concerned about finding work?
Bravo had asked me to guest on “Top Chef” at a time when “Queer Eye” was hot as hell. They even helped promote my cookbook. As [Bravo president] Lauren [Zalaznick] says, she likes to have her kids play with each other.
What were your first thoughts as a celeb food judge?
Early on, the show was basically “Project Runway” for food. People said it wouldn’t work, that nobody would watch it because the viewer can’t taste the food. That’s why it’s important to talk about what we’re tasting. How the food’s described adds entertainment.
Do you want to pursue an acting career?
I’ve never had any need to be famous. Really, I just want to have fun, work in a creative, cool job and live in New York City. I’m very happy.
Your career has taken some unexpected turns. Can you even offer advice to someone who wants to follow in your footsteps?
If there’s any advice I’d offer from the experience of the hoax that passes as my career, it’s just remaining open to strange opportunities and not expecting your career to follow the kind of lockstep, gold-watch-at-65 pattern that our fathers’ careers followed. It just doesn’t work that way.
If you were stuck on a desert island with one thing to eat, what would it be?
Probably cyanide. The thing I love most about food is its variety, its range. Food is limitless.
mkane@nypost.com