There is something about an Indian woman orally fucking a burger that seems wholly improper to me.  But Top Chef’s Padma Lakshmi, the one who was raised vegetarian, is the newest celeb to toss out her self-respect for a Carl’s Jr. ad campaign.

Especially enjoyable is the skirt hike at about :14 (is that Spanx?), coupled with, “It reminds me of being in high school,” and a close up of Padma licking her arm like it’s an over-sized phallus.  I guess we know who the most popular girl at Lakshmi’s school was.

Padma Lakshmi, perhaps best known on the Top Chef set as the resident herb enthusiast, is divorcing her much older husband, controversial author Salman Rushdie. A rep for Rushdie stated today that “Salman Rushdie has agreed to divorce his wife, Padma Lakshmi, because of her desire to end their marriage.”

The New York Post seemed to catch a whiff of trouble before the news officially broke. On June 29, they noted that “Lakshmi was spotted hanging out into the wee hours at the Rose Bar at the Gramercy Park Hotel with a well-known chef who was there without his spouse.” The kids at Gawker have decided this means Padma’s having an affair with Anthony Bourdain. All together now: Ew.

Here’s something funny: the permalink for this story on TMZ is the following:

http://www.tmz.com/2007/07/02/my-big-fatwah-divorce/

This is, of course, hilarious, but the story actually ran on the site with the headline: “Padma to Rushdie: Pack Your Knives and Go,” which is less hilarious. I wonder why they changed the original headline.

Padma’s not the only Top Chef host to be married to a much older man; Billy Joel’s child bride, Katie Joel, hosted the first season, and we’re been hearing murmurings of trouble in their marriage over the past few months. Is there a Top Chef curse? Or is there just, you know, a Marrying a Much, Much Older Man Until You’re Famous and Wealthy in Your Own Right curse?

According to sources on the set, Top Chef host Padma Lakshmi often indulged in a joint on the set every now and then — or, you know, “fairly regularly.” As the Best Week Ever folks point out, this explains a lot, like how she usually seems only marginally involved in whatever’s going on, how she speaks very slowly, and how she married Salman Rushdie.

It’s also disappointing, though, because we could have pushed this storyline much further. Pot brownies have been done — can we see someone attempt a duo of Mary Jane foie gras and sirloin? With pot potatoes on the side? Can Marcel make a foam out of it? Or mix it with xantham gum? I can’t believe no one thought to try that. It would have made for one hell of a judges table.