Hell's Kitchen · Season 2
[A red table has walked out after waiting two hours for wellingtons]
Missy.
Yes, chef.
Table has walked out. And the sad thing about it: you've given up so FUCKING easily because you don't give a SHIT! [kicks the bins] SHIT! (to the red team) Switch everything off, yeah?
Yes, chef.
[customers are leaving Hell's Kitchen]
Alright, well thank you.
Yeah, thanks for nothing.
Everyone, shut the kitchen down.
(to Garrett) There's not even an ounce of salt in there. Are you serious? We can't send any food, Garrett... GARRETT... Unless we've tasted anything. If you haven't tasted your own fucking food, what chance have you got!?
None.
I'd rather fuck off for a burger!
(on Maribel's potatoes) Maribel, what is that?
It's mashed potatoes, chef.
Tell me why is it gone like glue? Missy, I'd get some fresh ones if I was you.
(to her teammates) Do we have any more potatoes, guys?
Oh, dear. You know what? If that's the last thing in this country to eat, I'd fucking starve.
(to Tom) This order here is 7:35. Hello? Stop! Hey, lis--Stop! Come here, you... you idiot. Now I've FUCKING HAD ENOUGH! What I'm trying to tell you in your fucking eyeball, is that the quail in the spaghetti now, and you're putting the quail in.
No, I have the ones there.
THAT'S FOR-- THAT FUCKING ORDER THERE!!! [pounds the counter; the restaurant falls completely silent as the diners brought their attention, except for some ambience in the background] You're not bothered, are you? It doesn't hurt, does it? [stutters, points to his heart] There's nothing here.
No, it does. I can't yell. I can't cry. All I have to do is do it. [Tom's meat pan catches fire and Tom starts blowing it]
Oh, my God. [Gordon visibly gets even more stressed] THE DUCK'S BURNT!! YOU'RE COOKING IN A BURNT PAN, YOU FUCKING DICK!! [Tom keeps blowing the fire and it gets bigger] Oh, my God, leave it! Leave it! LEAVE IT!! JUST FUCKING LEAVE IT!! [places the pan off the burner and the fire goes out] You're going to blow fire in your face, you fucking DONKEY!!! Keith.
Yes, chef.
Get on the meat section, and stick next to him, and don't let him cook a FUCKING thing! And you (Tom), open those big eyes and watch what the fuck this guy's doing.
Yes, chef.
Shut it and watch!
Yes, chef.
SHUT IT!!!
I'm waiting on--
SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU!! YOU DONKEY!!!
Missy.
Yes, chef?
Why are you glazing it with butter and not egg wash?
It was egg wash, sir.
What's that in there?
That's egg.
Egg yolk or egg white?
Egg white?
Oh, no. Have they all been glazed all night with egg white?
Wrong thing evidently.
Oh, no. Why are wellingtons going in now?
We ran out, chef.
You ran out?
Yes.
Oh, fuck me... ladies, I personally don't want to do this anymore. (to Rachel) I'm fed up with your shit, (to Maribel) I'm fed up with your shit. (to Virginia) You've been a fucking letdown the minute you started cooking.
Yes, chef.
Then you LIED to me that the turbot's en route, when she (Sara) hasn't even got it out of the FUCKING fridge! Do you want to continue like this?
No, chef.
Fuck the lot of you, is that clear?
Yes, chef.
Fuck the lot of you!
Yes, chef.
[pounds the counter] You. Come here, you. (to Keith) Fat fuck. (to Tom) Hey, doughnut. Come here, you. Hey, ladies, come here. Let me tell you something, [takes off his apron and throws it at Tom] Here you go. [throws his towel at Tom] Here you go. I've had enough. I've had ENOUGH! I cannot believe you're actually attempting to fucking win a restaurant. Get back in your fucking dorms, and alone. By the time you get back in here, from the blue team, nominate someone that's going tonight. And from the red team, come back with someone that's leaving. NOW GET OUT! OUT! LEAVE THE STOVES!
I don't think we're getting dessert.
Chef Ramsey is giving the red team some polite words of encouragement.
(To the Red Team) PLEASE, please, PLEASE, please, PLEASE, please, PLEASE MOVE. YOUR ARSES.
[Gordon checks the quail brought up by Rachel]
Oh, no. No, no, no. Rachel!
Yes, chef?
Come here, you. Come here. No, fuck it. All of you, come here right now. [pounds the counter] And eat. Eat that. Eat it. I'm, I'm, I'm--I'm dying to understand what's going through your FUCKING MIND! Now, what do you think of the quail?
It's overcooked. Little too much production on the sauce chef and you can see bones.
What's your verdict?
It's dry and tastes a little burned.
Yeah, it's shit! A little burned?! Fuck me! Do you need some glasses? (to Jean-Philippe) Ask one of the customers for his fucking glasses. There, table seven, he's got them (to Rachel) And what's in it for you?
It's overcooked.
Pssss...fuck off will you?
All right, let's do it again guys, come on. [Jean-Philippe returns with a pair of glasses]
There they are. There's the gentleman's glasses. I'm serious now! Does anyone need a pair of glasses? Fuck off, Jean-Philippe. Did you really think I was going to go out there with the quail, burned to a cinder? (Rachel doesn't answer) Did you really think I was going to send that? I need to know in your mind. Did you actually think I was going to serve that? (still no answer) Come here, you, come here. [leads Rachel into the pantry] What the fuck are you doing? Do you want to go home?
Ahem.
No, no, tell me now!
I will not let you down tonight.
You already have! I want to pull it back!
I will get you through entrées.
I know damn well you can do it. I can see it in your eyes. I can identify with the hunger but right now, missy, there's just a blonde empty fucking head.
I won't let you down.
Get it together, communicate, open up and start talking to me. Now move!
Yes, chef.
This is your time now to step up and get your team together.
Yes, chef.
Those two, yeah? Are cooking like donkeys. Come on! Donkey's Kitchen, should we change the fucking logo? D.K.?
No, chef.
Come on please! The duck!
GARRETT!
Yes chef!
Where’s the cabbage? Come on, Garrett! Keith and Garrett! You just got all quiet! None of you are working as a team! Where's the lamb SAUCE?!
Come on, man!
I just need a--
WHERE'S THE LAMB SAUCE?!
Right here, chef.
Lamb sauce is coming up.
There's just nothing coming together!
Right here, chef.
Thank you very much.
Not a problem, chef.
Oh, fuck off, you fat useless sack of fucking yankee-danky-doodle shite. Fuck off, will you please, yeah?
[Gordon checks on wellingtons brought up by Rachel]
(to Maryann) How's it cooked?
It was cold.
Uhm, Rachel, come here.
Yes, chef?
Just touch that. What's the lamb?
It's well done.
It's requested pink. That's cooked to fuck! [pounds the counter] It's barely edible!! [sits down] Aw, for God's sake!
Rachel, this is pitiful. Rachel, you suck.
(to Rachel) Stop right there. I'm going to put you out of your misery. Switch it off. [crosses over to the blue kitchen] Just stop. Shut it down!
Yes, chef.
Although dinner service is finished, Chef Ramsay is not finished with one of the chefs.
(to Keith) You've got that spoiled brat syndrome. That huffy puffy, turn your eyes, fold your arms and you don't even look at me in the eyes.
I didn't mean that, chef.
Deep down inside, you've got a big amount of talent there, you know that. But my biggest problem is no one's noticed it properly. Has anyone ever told you how good you could be?
No, chef.
You can cook, big man, you know that. The first hour and a half of service, you were running it. Then you made one stupid mistake. The quicker you get rid of the attitude, you're going to shine.
Yes, chef.
(referring to herself, Keith and Garrett) We're going to be the final three.
[While unloading ice from a truck]
Heather is one tough bitch!
I'm the toughest bitch there is.
I was sweating like Tom today.
These quotes come from Wikiquote's Hell's Kitchen pages and are available under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License.
