Ratatouille – wikiquote electricity 101 powerpoint

• [drunk from all the wine Skinner has offered him] Ratatouille! It’s like stew, right? Why do they call it that? If you want to name a food, you should give a name that sounds delicious. Ratatouille doesn’t sound delicious. It sounds like "rat" and "patootie". Rat patootie! Which does not sound delicious.

• [showing the kitchen crew his partnership with Remy] I know this sounds insane, but, well, the truth sounds insane sometimes. But that doesn’t mean it’s not the…the truth. And the truth is, I have no talent at all. But this rat, he’s the one behind these recipes. He’s the cook. The real cook. He’s been hiding under my toque. He’s been controlling my actions. He’s the reason I can cook the food that’s exciting everyone. The reason Ego is outside that door. You’ve been giving me credit for his gift. I know it’s a hard thing to believe, but, hey, you believed I could cook, right? Look, this works. It’s crazy, but it works. We can be the greatest restaurant in Paris, and this rat, this brilliant little chef, can lead us there. What do you say? You with me? [everyone walks out]

• [voice over, reviewing Gusteau’s] 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.

Dialogue [ edit ] Gusteau: [as a book illustration] If you are hungry, go up and look around, Rémy. Why do you wait and mope? Remy: Well, I just lost my family…all my friends. Probably forever. Gusteau: How do you know? Remy: I, uh… You are an illustration. Why am I talking to you? Gusteau: Oh, you just lost your family, all your friends. You are lonely. Remy: Yeah… well, you’re dead. Gusteau: Ah, but that is no match for wishful thinking! If you focus on what you left behind, you will never be able to see what lies ahead. Now go up and look around!

[Remy’s about to eat a bread crumb in someone’s house when Gusteau appears before him.] Gusteau: What are you doing?! Remy: I’m hungry! I don’t know where I am, I don’t know when I’ll find food again! Gusteau: Remy, you are better than that. You are a cook! A cook makes. A thief takes. You’re not a thief. Remy: But I am hungry. Gusteau: Remy, food will come. Food always comes to those who love to cook.

[Remy and Gusteau are talking about Linguini] Gusteau: How did you know! What do I always say, Remy? Anyone can cook. Remy: Well yeah, anyone can. That doesn’t mean that anyone should. Gusteau: Well, that is not stopping him. See? [Linguini has accidentally spilled a pot of soup and is attempting to cover up his mistake by throwing random ingredients into it.] Remy: What, what is he doing…?! No… no! No, this is terrible! He’s ruining the soup… and nobody’s noticing?! It’s your restaurant! Do something! Gusteau: What can I do? I am a figment of your imagination. Remy: But he’s ruining the soup!! We gotta tell someon– [slips and falls]

Anton Ego: What is it Ambrister? Ambrister: Gusteau’s… Anton: Finally closing, is it? Ambrister: No. Anton: More financial troubles? Ambrister: No, it’s… it’s… Anton: Announced a new line of microwave egg-rolls. What, what?! Spit it out! Ambrister: It’s come back, it’s… popular. Anton: [partly spits out a mouthful of wine, before checking the label, then roughly swallowing the rest of the wine] I haven’t reviewed Gusteau’s in years. Ambrister: No, sir. Anton: My last review condemned it to the tourist trade. Ambrister: Yes, sir. Anton: I said, "Gusteau has finally found his rightfully place in history, right along side another equally famous chef, Monsieur Boyardee". Ambrister: Touché. Anton: That is were it left it, that was my last word. The… last… word. Ambrister: [cowering] Yes. Anton: Then tell me Ambrister; how could it be popular?

Mustafa: [taking Ego’s order] Do you know what you’d like this evening, sir? Anton: Yes, I think I do. After reading a lot of overheated puffery about your new cook, you know what I’m craving? A little perspective. That’s it. I’d like some fresh, clear, well seasoned perspective. Can you suggest a good wine to go with that? Mustafa: With what, sir? Anton: Perspective. Fresh out, I take it? Mustafa: I am, uh… Anton: Very well. Since you’re all out of perspective and no one else seems to have it in this BLOODY TOWN, I’ll make you a deal. You provide the food, I’ll provide the perspective, which would go nicely with a bottle of Cheval Blanc 1947. Mustafa: I’m afraid… your dinner selection? Anton: [stands up angrily] Tell your chef, Linguini, that I want whatever he dares to serve me. Tell him to hit me with his best shot. Skinner: [Sitting nearby, to a waiter] I will have whatever he is having.

Remy: [after Ego’s positive review is read] It was a great night. The happiest of my life. But the only thing predictable about life… [Gusteau’s is condemned and shut down] …is it’s unpredictability. Well, we had to let Skinner and the health inspector loose! And of course, they "ratted" us out. The food didn’t matter. Once it got out there were rats in the kitchen, oh, man, the restaurant was closed and Ego lost his job and his credibility. [Remy is telling his story to the other rats] But don’t feel too bad for him. He’s doing very well as a small business investor. He seems very happy. Female rat: How do you know? Django: Yeah.

• I think our goal is to get the impression of something rather than perfect photographic reality. It’s to get the feeling of something so I think that our challenge was the computer basically wants to do things that are clean and perfect and don’t have any history to them. If you want to do something that’s different than that you have to put that information in there and the computer kind of fights you. It really doesn’t want to do that and Paris is a very rich city that has a lot of history to it and it’s lived in. Everything’s beautiful but it’s lived in. It has history to it, so it has imperfections and it’s part of why it’s beautiful is you can feel the history in every little nook and cranny. For us every single bit of that has to be put in there. We can’t go somewhere and film something. If there’s a crack in there, we have to design the crack and if you noticed the tiles on the floor of the restaurant, they’re not perfectly flat, they’re like slightly angled differently, and they catch light differently. Somebody has to sit there and angle them all separately so we had to focus on that a lot. And it was a movie about good food and the food had to look delicious and its data. How do you define what makes food look good. It’s actually a bunch of really subtle little complicated things and everybody worked really hard on it.