Stop The Presses!

Actually, you cannot say that about something that did appear in the newspaper, but Raymond Sokolov checked out Paula Deen's nominal restaurant flagship, and  just hated it.
One takeaway: 

Our main course of stringy crab molded into an uncrisp cake reminded us of what we'd known all along: There's no business like show business. What you see on the Food Network isn't always what you get. The Paula Deen on the tube is a superior product to the Paula Deen whose actual food you eat in Savannah.

Not such a huge surprise, but it does actually point out that Mario may have had a point when he asserted that his cooking was too fancy for Food Network, circa 2007. As Sokolov observes, "Paula, as her myriad fans know her, is the Food Network's poster grandma, the irrepressibly happy face of a brand-new show and is seen 16 times a week by a total of seven million viewers. She's at the vanguard of a big shift in food television toward stars who haven't actually made any major culinary mark."* (Paula Deen also continues to shill for a criminal enterprise, but we will leave that alone for now.) The upshot would appear to me that the lowest common denominator continues to plunge like Giadia's neckline.
*A sad and unfortunate aspect of this business is that the original legit chefs happened all to be male, and their dumbed down heirs happen to be female, and with the exception of Deen, are all  "my bewbs: let me show you them" (the tops of them, anyway). Is it to late to hope that the FN will unleash the Prune Power Hour with Gabrielle Hamilton, or maybe have a Judy Rodgers Christmas special?