Thank you! Don't forget to confirm subscription in your email.
The Kadam family leaves India for France where they open a restaurant directly across the road from Madame Mallory's Michelin-starred eatery.
Mansur: So I guess the cooking is now down to me. Papa: Yes, mister. Mansur: Oh, God! Papa: What do you mean, "Oh, God"?
Papa: She thinks she owns everybody in town. Do you hear me up there? I say no! Don't try to steal my children! Madame Mallory: I will report you, Mr. Kadam, for making too much noise. Papa: And I will report you for attempted child abduction! Madame Mallory: Have you even asked the boy what he wants? Papa: You deliberately seduced him! Madame Mallory: [Scoffs] Papa: You seduced his mind,with your awful, tasteless, empty sauces! With your pitiful little squashed bits of garlic! Madame Mallory: That is called subtlety of flavor. Papa: It's called meanness of spirit! If you have a spice, use it! Don't sprinkle it. Spoon it in! Madame Mallory: What you do not seem to understand is that there is such a thing as enough. Enough is enough, arrêtez! Papa: Yes, enough of you. Always up there like a queen or something. You tell him, it's "classical". What is "classical"? Madame Mallory: "Classical" comes from the word "class". And that is what he will learn in my kitchen. He will learn how to cook with class. Papa: Indian cannot become French, and the French cannot become Indian. Madame Mallory: Mr. Kadam, I think I have just spent the whole day washing those words off your wall.
Hassan: Marguerite! Thank you for the books ! Marguerite: [chuckling] What books ? Hassan: The books !
Madame Mallory: Oh. Vous m'étonnez. [Chuckles] Madame Mallory: You have it. Hmm. Your pigeon had it, too. Hassan: I know. I knew then, and I know now. Madame Mallory: Arrogance. Hassan: A chef must lead. Madame Mallory: Sharp and cool and hot in the mouth, all at the same time. Do you know how long it takes chefs to learn that? What will Papa say?
Hassan: [narrating] And my mother was my instructor. Mama: The sea urchins taste of life, don't you think ? Life has its own flavor. Hidden in that shell, raw, beautiful life. Hassan: [narrating] It was an education for all of the senses. Mama: But to cook, you must kill. You make ghosts. You cook to make ghosts. Spirits that live on in every ingredient. Hassan: [narrating] But mostly, I was taught. Hassan: [Slurping] How to taste. Mama: Can you taste them?