By Damon Hodge

It's a question Rock Harper has become accustomed to since winning the third season of bad boy chef Gordon Ramsey's Hell's Kitchen reality cooking show: Is the hot-tempered, foul-mouthed Ramsay really that eviscerating?

"He can be, but he's not just mean for no reason," says Harper, 30, of the Scottish-born chef whose lacerating personality belies his tremendous culinary acclaim. "He knows what it's like to own a restaurant. You shouldn't open a restaurant with your heart. You should open one using your head. Have the business model in place, then put your heart into the cooking."

Using a mix of passion and, at times, cerebral detachment, Harper (whose real name is Rahman Brazen) outlasted eight other competitors to win the $250,000 and year-long contract as head chef at the Italian-themed Terre Verde restaurant at the Green Valley Ranch hotel-casino in Henderson, just minutes from the Las Vegas Strip.

As with his maturation from a young cook apprenticing in his mother and grandmother's kitchens, to graduating from the culinary school at Johnson & Wales University in Norfolk, Va., to stints in fine-dining establishments in Washington, D.C., Harper says his participation in the Hell's Kitchen competition was as much about winning as it was about the journey.

"I got my degree and figured that I'd get a fine dining job, no problem," says Harper, a married father of two. "No one called me. I worked in bagel bakeries and in quick-service eateries for little money and hardly any benefits. It humbled me. I worked at Planet Hollywood in D.C. It was tough. Everything was structured. The food was weighed and portioned. Your uniform had to be straight at all times; your sideburns cut to a certain length; you had to have the same kind of shoes as everyone else. It taught me order, consistency and precision. I was only making $7 an hour and staying at home with my mom. Looking back, I appreciated the journey and what it taught me."

Sitting inside Terre Verde, about an hour before guests will pile in and sup on wood-fired pizzas, homemade pastas and antipasto, Harper adeptly juggles the trappings of his newfound celebrity--posters of his face dot the casino floor--with the demands of running a kitchen. He chats up staff and passes out smiles as if they were hor d'oeuvres. When he says he wants to be the best Italian chef in Las Vegas, it comes off less as Ramsey-esqe braggadocio and more like an earnest attempt to push himself. That is, to embark on yet another journey.

Born in San Diego, Harper grew up on the other side of the country, in Tappahannock, Virginia. Third oldest of four siblings, he enjoyed helping his mother and grandmother prepare family feasts. In fact, he says, women taught him to appreciate food and its unifying power.

Mom and grandma prepared holiday feasts to remember. Chef Dedra Butts at Johnson & Wales helped him channel his passion for campus activism into cooking. During his stint at B. Smith's restaurants in Washington, D.C. (as a sous chef, assistant general manager and, later, executive chef), he gained the confidence to run front-of-the-house operations.

Meantime, men have played significant roles in his development, too. Harper credits the chef John Dorney at T.C. Williams High School in Alexandria, Va., with shaping his career aspirations. "He really opened up my mind to food preparation and culinary skill. He helped me grow up as a person and taught me about professionalism, punctuality."

At D.C.'s Bet on Jazz fine-dining restaurant--where chef Jacque Ford ruled with a critical eye--Harper says he worked with some of the best culinary talent in the country. "He [Ford] was very picky. If he saw a perfect plate, he would stop everything in the restaurant. Everything. Everybody would come to the kitchen and he would say, ?Now this is a perfect piece of culinary art.' I got recognized once. For the first time, I really felt like a chef."

Asked who are better cooks, men or women, the supremely confident Harper--who made it a point to keep his cool on Hell's Kitchen--equivocates at first.

"Women put more feeling and compassion into food," he says. "Women have tender, love and care built it. They cook with love. I tell guys they need to love every plate. Now that's challenging when you present 600 plates a night. On the other hand, men, know how to get stuff done. We can be tougher minded. We bring a certain amount of assertiveness and confidence to each plate. If directed in the right way, that confidence combined with the skills makes for great cooking."

Okay, so who's better? "A meld between the two is the best thing for any chef."

Okay, so who's better? "?...hmmm. You're putting me on the spot. Women. Because they know how to get men to do what they want. Hey, I know where my bread is buttered."

Opening time is near. Harper needs to change out of his skivvies and into his chef's uniform. Terre Verde will soon be buzzing with dinner business. And the journey will begin anew: his quest to make sure he can capture the nuances of Italian cooking in spite of his training in Cajun and American style cuisine. He appears up to the challenge. "I'm inspired by food," Harper said. "It's a work of art. It's about learning."