Who: Sacha Baron Cohen
Age: 35
Know him as: Comedian, actor and star of "Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan"
Sacha Baron Cohen is an exhibitionist, and we're not talking about the various ways he's always showing off his ass, whether in his neon green thong-spenders or epic naked wrestling match in "Borat," or his artful moon in the opening credits of "Da Ali G. Show." In his comedy, we get a full-frontal eyeful of pure id. You sense that he's so fully engaged in the joke that there's no premeditation involved -- even in his most rigged gags -- at all, just his own lewd subconscious. It's impossible to believe, as whiny killjoys on the left and right claim, that he's calibrating his humor to humiliate foreigners or to pander to lefty culture warriors; and it also seems unlikely that he's really a swashbuckling advocate of social justice, challenging stereotypes and exposing truth. It seems a lot more likely that Baron Cohen is acting out his own unique issues -- concerns with his Jewish identity, that naughty British schoolboy obsession with showing his bum, a dash of giggly straight-guy angst about gays, which he explored to delirious lengths as the scene-stealing Jean Girard in "Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby." But it's that emotional honesty that gives his docu-sketch comedy the ring of truth, and such an explosive energy. Sure, as his dutiful fans will argue (as Baron Cohen does) he exposes the ugly truth in many of the people he sabotages. But he's also exposing all the taboo thoughts going on inside his own head, and lord knows there's not much hotter than that.
And, OK, yes: He's got a great ass.
-- Salon staff
Who: Alton Brown
Age: 44
Know him as: Chef, star of "Good Eats" (Food Network)
For a lot of us, the sight of a spatula in a guy's hand has the same libido-loosening effect as roughly two margaritas and a Barry White album. There's just something irresistible about a man who cooks. But Alton Brown doesn't simply prepare food. He doesn't merely enjoy food. No, Alton Brown understands food.
On his Food Network show "Good Eats" and his wildly successful "I'm Just Here for the Food" cookbooks, he delves deeply into the mysterious alchemy of cooking, explaining why things brown or separate or emulsify or caramelize with a passion that's infectious. He may dole out wisdom in friendly, funny nuggets, but when he explains in serious, caressing detail the differences between a chewy cookie and crunchy one, it's downright hypnotic. And when he strides around kitchen stadium as commentator of "Iron Chef America," he's a reassuring authority, an eager fan, and a conspiratorial insider letting you in on the secrets of taming fire itself. He's the ultimate caveman and the uptight professor, and if that's not a twofer fantasy figure right there, I don't know what is.
The landscape of celebrity chefdom doesn't lack for eye candy, and the more chiseled forms of Tyler Florence or Rocco DiSpirito may hold an allure for others. Brown lacks the jaw line of Anthony Bourdain and the lady-killer swagger of Bobby Flay or even Mario Batali. What he has, on first inspection, is a thinning hairline, glasses and unfortunate taste in shirts. It doesn't matter. He also happens to be as well put together as great lasagna, with an easy, crinkly smile, broad shoulders and possibly the most beautiful pair of hands ever to touch a stockpot. Brown is not the guy you fall for in spite of his looks. He's the rare man so comfortable being goofy, so confident briskly whisking roux, so intense when he gets going about oven temperature, you might be forgiven for overlooking that he's also incredibly attractive. Then you remember, he also knows how to make his own bacon. And you fall in love all over.
-- Mary Elizabeth Williams
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