Chef Skinner: I see the theatricality of it! A rat appears on the boy's first night, I order him to kill it, and now he wants me to see it everywhere! Ooooh! It's here! No it isn't, it's here! Am I seeing things? Am I crazy? Is there a phantom rat or is there not? But oh, no! I refuse to be sucked into his little game... of...
Django: This is the way things are. You can't change nature.
Remy: Change is nature, Dad, the part that we can influence. And it starts when we decide. (walks away)
Django: Where are you going?
Remy: With luck, forward.
Remy: Change is nature, Dad, the part that we can influence. And it starts when we decide. (walks away)
Django: Where are you going?
Remy: With luck, forward.
Colette: What are you doing?
Linguini: (stammering) Uh, I'm cutting vegetables. I'm cutting the... vegetables?
Colette: No! You waste energy and time! You think cooking is a cute job, eh? Like Mommy in the kitchen? Well, Mommy never had to face the dinner rush when the orders come flooding in and every dish is different and none are simple, and all of them have different cooking times but must arrive at the customer's table at exactly the same time, hot and perfect! Every second counts and you CANNOT BE MOMMY!
Linguini: (stammering) Uh, I'm cutting vegetables. I'm cutting the... vegetables?
Colette: No! You waste energy and time! You think cooking is a cute job, eh? Like Mommy in the kitchen? Well, Mommy never had to face the dinner rush when the orders come flooding in and every dish is different and none are simple, and all of them have different cooking times but must arrive at the customer's table at exactly the same time, hot and perfect! Every second counts and you CANNOT BE MOMMY!
Colette: (reacting to Linguini making a huge mess) What is this? Keep! Your station! Clear! When the meal rush comes, what will happen? Messy stations slow things down. Food doesn't go! Orders pile up! Disaster! I'll make this easy to remember: Keep your station clear, or I WILL KILL YOU!
Linguini: Ratatouille. It's kind of a stew, right? But it sounds like "rat" and "patootie." Rat patootie. That does not sound delicious.
Anton Ego: You're slow for someone in the fast lane.
Linguini: A-and you're thin, for someone who likes food.
Anton Ego: I don't like food, I love it. If I don't love it, I. Don't. Swallow.
Linguini: A-and you're thin, for someone who likes food.
Anton Ego: I don't like food, I love it. If I don't love it, I. Don't. Swallow.
Anton Ego: In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the *new*. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations. The new needs friends. Last night, I experienced something new: an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto, "Anyone can cook." But I realize, only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist; but a great artist *can* come from *anywhere*. It is difficult to imagine more humble origins than those of the genius now cooking at Gusteau's, who is, in this critic's opinion, nothing less than the finest chef in France. I will be returning to Gusteau's soon, hungry for more.
