Burnt Page #2

you have to be...

...whoever Alec Guinness was.

But if you manage to get three...

...you're Yoda.

Well, what if he's Darth Vader?

Sara, I went crazy

on summer vegetables

on a bed of ricotta for you.

And for your carnivore boyfriend,

tea-smoked mackerel

with duck egg.

And then we have bouillabaisse,

followed by escargot with garlic

and parsley butter.

What?

David says escargot

is old-fashioned.

Keep eating.

- Is this a joke?

- Is what a joke?

You leaving me a note

to meet you at a Burger King.

Hmm. No joke.

No, this place is easy, accessible,

and cheap. It's easy to find.

They don't kick you out

if you talk to yourself,

which, for me, is crucial. Sit down.

Mmm. You want some lunch?

No, not here, no.

Why not?

I prefer to eat food cooked

by a proper chef.

You don't like people on minimum wage?

Mr. Jones, I'm a sous chef.

I'm a person on minimum wage.

You know why people like you

don't like fast food?

Sorry. "People like me"?

Because it's food

for the working class.

- Excuse me?

- Justify why it costs $500 more

to eat at a place where we work

than it does at a place like this.

- No.

- 'Cause you can't.

Because the food here

is made with too much fat

and too much salt and too many

cheap cuts of meat.

You just described most

classic French peasant dishes.

Burger King is peasants

doing what peasants do,

giving a cheap cut

of meat a little style.

Goulash, bourguignon, cassoulet.

Shall I go on?

- I really have to go.

- What you should have said

is that the problem with this

place is it's too consistent.

And consistency is death.

Consistency is what

every great chef strives for.

No, a chef should strive

to be consistent in experience,

but not consistent in taste.

It's like sex.

It's like, you're always headed

to the same place,

but you got to find new

and dangerous way of getting there.

I wish I could say it was

nice seeing you again, Mr. Jones,

but I'm happy where I am.

Good luck.

Adam Jones. My God.

One hoped you were dead.

Closed down any, uh,

good restaurants lately?

I don't close good restaurants.

My reviews close bad ones.

I need you to help me kick

this arrogant city's ass.

I'm back, and I'm gonna cook

like we did in the old days,

before we started warming up

fish in little plastic bags.

You know, when I lie awake at night

and list my regrets...

...you're one of them.

I say to myself,

"Simone, you're a lesbian.

Why did you sleep

with Adam Jones?"

- Simone Forth is here.

- Sorry, who?

"Who?" The restaurant critic

of the f***ing Evening Standard.

It's dry! The grouse is dry

and the sauce tastes like...

Everything is f***ed!

We're finished!

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes