Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

You're being stupid.

- Didn't or couldn't? - What's the difference?

"Who?" The restaurant critic of the fucking Evening Standard.

Let me see, let me see, let me see.

It all has to be the same fucking size.

[Helene] Quick, quick!

There's not gonna be another empty table at this restaurant again, Ton.

[chuckles] We talked a lot about you.

licking yellow frogs, and women.

Michelin loves it when you celebrate French cuisine.

Isn't there a rule that analysts have

has to be exactly two millimeters thick.

"...whatever you want, chef, right away, chef,"

One, two, three.

[sniffs, clears throat]

Tony said to tell you that your knives are in the bag.

What happens if you fail?

you've always been a hero of mine.

that you self-medicated for years.

- Two hundred? Three hundred? - [inhales, stammers]

[speaking French] Is it okay?

[speaking Italian] But they sewed his nose back on.

[speaking French] You're a very lucky man.

Okay, give me some room.

- I said, how come we're not full yet? - There are some no-shows.

[sighs] Papa's knives.

There were drug dealers.

Excuse me one second. Was he drunk?

- I'll handle it. - Where's the order?

You just described most classic French peasant dishes.

[sniffs] Oh, you mean like you?

Doomed youth is romantic.

I booked under the name of O'Reilly.

The heat, the pressure, the violence, the fucking screaming.

- American? - Yeah.

Yeah, he's there.

- Where's that turbot? - Coming up, chef!

Handed off from one relative to the next.

I've been working more on the potato truffle veloute.

You're the ogre.

[David] He doesn't drink anymore.

We wouldn't even be talking.

[indistinct chatter]

And she wants a fucking birthday cake, okay?

- [exhales] - [door creaking closed]

He wants you to get your third star.

- I want that in 3O seconds, yeah? - [others] Yes, chef!

And remember, they're not just watching their own table!

- Like velvet, yeah? Like velvet. - Yes, chef. Yes, chef.

Listen, he really wants you back.

Please don't think that's on the house. You pay your way like everyone else.

All we want to do...

It was better yesterday.

[speaking French] Okay, pal.

Oh, crack cocaine and Louisiana.

You have to trust us. Okay?

[spits, coughs] I'm okay.

And I used a little bit of your beef sauce.

How much would you pay me to work for me?

I told you, I don't want to work for you.