Hell's Kitchen Season 3 quotes

Who's coo... Who?...

I did the scallops, chef. What's wrong?

What's wrong?

Are they raw?

Oh, come on! Fucking hell! You just asked me are they raw. Why don't you tell me what the fuck they are?

They're raw, chef.

[throws a scallop in the bin, disgusted] Fuck off!

[smelling the crab] Hey, missy (Joanna), is that crab high to you? Anyone else smell that? Where's the crab? [picks up the container and smells it] Ugh! Maryann, smell that-- [seeing Joanna trying to leave] hey you, don't you fucking dare! Come here you! Hello!

[smelling the crab] Oh god.

Can you not smell that? The crab is off. It's fucking rancid! How can you do that?

I did not smell the crab chef.

(interview) I can't believe Joanna had been using that. I mean, it just made you sit up and go "Whoa!"

Have you sent one out already?

No, chef, we haven't.

Thank God for that! YOU'LL KILL SOMEONE! [throws the crab in the bin] Hey, get off! Get off! Julia, take over.

Yes, chef.

Should I recommend something else?

Oh, you fuck recommend. Yeah, recommend a new restaurant.

Hey, hello! Come here, donkeys! Here we go. We started. Come here! What is that?

It's a raw egg.

What is that? [shows the egg to Josh] What-what is that? What is that? [slams the raw egg in Vinnie's whites] Fuck off, will you? Fuck off! Okay?

(interview) He slammed that shit right in Vinnie's... chest and Vinnie tensed up and he was about to bust and all I could think was, "Oh, my God. Do not lose your head."

Fuck off! Hey, why did you let it go when you know it's not fucking ready?

I screwed up again chef.

Hey, look at me now. You've now just confirmed to my mind you're not trustworthy! So fuck you!

(interview) It's tough to bite your tongue. I just figured take it, it's the only way to win and you'll be alright.

Start the fucking table again.

Julia, what you got in here is enough for two orders.

Okay.

I'm going to toss all this (spaghetti) out. [dumps it in the garbage]

Away next, scallop, risotto, spaghetti yes?

Ladies, spaghetti!

You need more spaghetti Julia? Oh, I fucking just tossed it! Let me just get it. I'll get it. I'll get it. (interview) We had an order for spaghetti and I threw out what we had and I just decided to retrieve the spaghetti from the top of the garbage and washed it. 212 (degrees) kills the bacteria and I decided to serve it.

Where did you get it from?

The garbage on top.

Oh no, no, no. No way. (interview) Who in the world picks food out of the trash? You can't just do anything in the heat of the moment.

(not having seen what Jen did) How long Julia?

Six minutes chef.

Oh dear.

Julia's quality control kept garbage from being served and Jen should consider herself lucky Chef Ramsay didn't witnessed her mistake. Meanwhile in the blue kitchen, the pressure is on Josh and Brad to get out some entrées.

Let's do two wellingtons, one turbot. Lets go.

Josh, did you hear that? I'm going on two wellingtons. Can you, I need you guys to go.

That's not a problem. How long on the wellingtons?

I can go right now.

No, I can't.

You can't? I need to pull this out then.

Hey, JOSH!

Yes, chef.

Fucking little bastard. Hey, are you just trying to sabotage them?

No way, chef.

So that it makes you look good?

No way, chef.

Who's the first person you should be telling?

I should talk to him (Brad), chef. I should talk to meat station. It was my fault, chef. (defensively) No sabotage. (interview) I wasn't trying to sabotage. Are you crazy?

You deserve a kick in the nuts.

Yes, chef.

Hey, start the fucking table again.

Brad, two minutes.

Yes, no go in two minutes 45 seconds.

Hold on, there's someone being dishonest. Lift the bottom of the wellington over. [Brad does so] Oh come on. You give me them anaemic bits of shit, I'll fucking throw them up your arse sideways. [kicks a bin] Where's your fucking brains? I just cannot believe this! Can we have the two main courses TOGETHER? [kicks the bins] SHIT!

Where's the wellington? How long?

[comes up to Gordon] My wellingtons are going to be overdone.

Oh, for fuck's sake! Oh, come on!!

I'm not waiting another minute for my main course.

Seventeen (wellingtons) on order and you've got three to send. We're fourteen short!

(to a female diner) You don't want to stay a bit longer?

Uhm, no.

Chef, they are all walking out. To the left and 12, 14, from both sides, chef.

(to the red team) Stop. (calls the blue team) Come here. Hey, hello, chef (Josh), sabotage. Your tables are now getting up and leaving. Fuck off, will you, yeah? [gets the tickets from the pass, crumples them and throws them away] Get out. GET OUT!

Not only did Joanna serve rancid crab that could've seriously made a customer ill, she completely gave up, screwed her team, and if you can't handle one individual section, you got no chance of running a business.

Your palates are shit, so taste everything on this platter.

Melissa. You're running the appetisers, yes?

Yes.

You're running ahead, and no-one's with you. You're not a team player. Right now, I need some team fucking spirit!

Yes, chef!

Or I'll kick you out, and I'll do the fucking section myself!

Yes, chef!

I know what your game is. You just want to get all the appetisers out.

No chef, I swear to God that's not true.

Look good, [pretends to put makeup on] Oh, fuck me. [pretends to adjust his boobs] Oh, fuck me! Fuck off. Piss off. Fucking bimbo.

We're waiting on you Bonnie! Is that just sliced in half there and put back in the pan?

[points at chicken on the cutting board] This chef?

Oh no, Bonnie, not that. You're fucking here, you stupid cat. D'you know what? Every time I've asked you a sensible question, you give me a dumb blonde answer.

Sorry chef.

Right, let's go back to the beginning shall we?

Yes, chef.

Have you just sliced the chicken in half and stuck it back in the oven?

Yes, chef.

Is it dry?

It doesn't feel dry but I'll start over.

It's fucking lost its texture. Right now, you're all screwing your fucking selves. Is the chicken in for the langoustine?

[points to the same chicken] Yes, chef. Right here.

Fuck me. No that's the main course one.

It's right here.

Listen, Hey, listen, it's not in.

It's not in but I'm putting it in now.

Right so - here we go again - When are you going to fucking shut up? I'VE HAD ENOUGH NOW! Stop lying to me! You're saying yes all the fucking time, yet nothing's DONE! WORK TOGETHER!

Yes, chef!

Jean-Philippe, what table is the lady from, please? So we can find out where food is, please?

23 chef.

23, blue, yes?

Yes, chef.

Take the giraffe back to her table please. Service please, let's go.

Excuse me?! I'm asking for service and he's being rude.

Let's go. (to the tall lady) Fuck off, will you? Move your fucking ass, will you?

What did he do to them?

He was flashing them in the oven after they were cooked.

(comes back to the workstation) Okay guys. Just stop, stop, stop, stop, STOP!!!! Blue donkeys, come here! Touch that, touch that. IT'S RARE!! You (Vinnie), look at me. You don't care anymore, you know that?

(checking Vinnie's wellingtons) Vinnie!

Yes, chef?

Vinnie, come on chef. Look, raw pastry's trimmed off the bottom. That's the shit you don't send to the customers. It's still left on. Tell him to trim them please?

Trim them real quick.

Chef Vinnie!

Yes, chef!

Look at me. Can you trim it properly?

Yes, chef.

And bring it to the hotplate and cut the pastry with a straighted knife. Donkey! Is it every other one is right? Or is it one in three is right?

No, chef. This one's perfect.

This one's perfect. What have you overcooked? How much have you binned?

I fucked a lot up but I'm on it now.

[seeing Vinnie's wasted meat] Oh, no!

(interview) I kept my own private garbage bin on my station and I had six wellington orders and one chicken in my bin.

Hey, a restaurant wouldn't even open with that. You'd close it before you got anywhere. [slams the tray on Vinnie's station]

(interview) It was a mistake. It's an expensive mistake.

Oh! Fuck me senseless!

Table 20, spaghetti undercooked chef.

Blue, yes?

Oui chef.

Where's fucking pretty-boy sushi man (Josh), where is he?

Right here, chef.

Complaint: raw spaghetti. No don't fucki-- [grunts] The fuck you call that? What do you think you are? WWF... Wrestling? Dick. Taste it!

Let me just tell you something: The customers are deciding which team is winning this evening. Your fate is in their hands, yet you still send crap! One more dish back, and I'm going to fucking shut it down. Now get a grip!