MICHAEL: Let it rip, buddy.
FRANCIS: It's hard to hear it, so I just keep saying it.
I didn't cause it, I can't control it,
I can't cure it.
A lot of my life, I thought I was just a victim.
Because my husband drank so much, this would happen or that would happen.
(SIGHS)
The short term was always so awful.
I thought if I just could throw out his liquor,
hide whatever he was on, that would fix it.
You can't curb that kind of chaos until the thinking changes,
until the foundations change,
until the chemistry changes.
And it's difficult.
I know I played a part in his abuse.
And I'm really mad at myself for that.
But...
But if there's anything good that came out of it,
it's that it made me realize that the best thing for me to do
is just to try to keep my side of the street clean.
Instead of trying to fix everything, just remove myself from any situation
that is or could become toxic.
What is wrong with you fucking jagoffs?
We're down six sausage pepper, five Greeks and a ravioli! Let's go!
We are down that because you are not firing.
RICHIE: Are you out of your mind?
I'm firing like a fucking maniac.
Waiting on those peppers, Chef.
These guys have to pick up their orders!
- Chef, I need chits. - What chits?
Listen to the words coming out of my fucking mouth.
- Are you listening to me? - Chef, lower your voice, please.
Thank you. So sorry, guys. Thank you for your patience.
Corner. Who took my trays? Again, that's theft.
Nobody took them. I prepped them.
- They're in the oven, ready for you. - Behind.
- The ketchup is right there. - Waiting on those peppers, please.
Yo. Cisco, let's rock, baby. What do you want?
Can I get two dogs with everything?
Two dogs.
Stop shouting, please. Press the button.
Sydney, head in the game.
- Stop shouting. - Are you crazy?
- Learn how to use a fucking computer. - Chef, are you good?
- Yes, Chef. - Yes?
Yes, Chef.
- Thank you, Chef. - Thank you, Chef.
- Stop! - 5.25, sir.
- The chits. - Let's go!
- Not enough pepper. - Move it down.
Blossom, what am I getting today, mortadellas?
I have to cut more peppers. I don't have any more here.
(SIGHS)
(ALARM BEEPING)
- Hey. Good morning, chefs.
- Hello, Carmy. - Good morning, Chef.
Chef, what are you doing so early?
I could not sleep.
Oh!
Getting flashbacks.
MARCUS: I copied them out of your books.
If it's too much, I could take it down.
CARMY: No. Looks good.
The colors are wild. It gets me thinking.
- Hi. - Morning, Chef.
Yeah, totally.
You know it takes 12 people to prep that?
- MARCUS: Wow. - CARMY: Yeah. I plated that every night.
Hold on 17, Chef.
- There's four sets of plum in that. - What do you mean?
- There's plum wine. - Plum wine?
Yeah, it's a sweet wine from Japan,
and you take a ton of bottles of it, and you just boil it.
You just cook it, and you cook it until it becomes a syrup.
It takes hours.
Two shifts, two different people just watching that shit.
Yes, Chef.
And you have your plum consomme,
which is black plums cooked down with black vinegar,
salt, sugar.
Somebody's got to be stirring that forever so the sugar doesn't burn.
And then your compressed plums, which are these perfect fresh plums
cut into perfect four centimeter squares,
that you cover with the reduced plum wine,
you vacuum seal it.
Then you take your consomme, make gelee.
At this place, the chef wanted the gelee
to be like the consistency of Haribo gummy bears,
which we could never do.
So, thick and chewy?
Yeah, thick but also squishy.
Not too squishy.
No one could do it. It was always too soft,
it was too hard, or it would melt too quickly, or it was too gummy.
And then, one day, a sous chef, he just hit it.
He spent every minute of a year trying to figure it out.
So, how did he do it?
- Well... - Veal fat.
What?
Veal fat congeals when it's cold.
- So... - Yeah. No, that's right.
So fire.
Fuck, man. Mission accomplished. (CHUCKLES)
- Yeah. - Let me get that for you.
- No, I'm okay. - You sure?
Yes. Thanks.
Uh, Sydney, can I talk to you in my office?
- Yeah. - Thank you.
Um...
- So, last week was a nightmare. - Yes, I agree.
- We have to stop it, or it'll get worse. - I agree.
I think that... Actually, one sec. Sorry. Yo, Ebra!
Hey, any reason Michael wasn't ordering number tens of these?
English, Carmy.
CARMY: Okay, this is a 28-ounce can, right?
So why wasn't Michael buying number tens, which are 102 ounces?
They're cheaper.
The more I learn about Michael, the less I understand.
Rest in peace, young man.
Who cares? We don't use tomatoes anyway.
- Um, hat did you have in mind? Sorry. -(PHONE RINGING)
Old-school brigade. You run it.
- Respectfully, no. - You told me that's what you wanted.
No, I said I wanted more to do.
I didn't say I want to run
- a Russian gymnastics program. - No.
It's defining roles, right?
It's creating a better workflow. You're used to that.
- It doesn't mean I liked it. - It's a start.
- It's a mistake. - It'll help.
It'll create a toxic hierarchical shit show.
What is it now?
A shit show.
But with that type of system, I'd have even less of a voice.
- You'd have more of a headache... - No.
- Yeah. - We can do it differently, okay?
I cannot keep yelling at them every day.
We have to cut it out.
We have to change the chemistry, all right?
Yeah, but...
We want to change this restaurant, right?
Right.
I will dial business. You are everything else.
Let's try it.
Okay, yes. Okay, Chef.
Great. Let's go.
- Now? Now? - Yeah, now.
Okay, everybody, go ahead, grab one.
Nice shit, Carm. Nice shit.
- Hey, Carm, the phone's ringing. - Yep. I hear that. Thank you, Marcus.
Manny, Angel, go ahead. You grab one, too.
We're going to look like a team.
- Cool, boss. - Yes.
- Mine is better, Jeff. - Okay.
I'm gonna hand it over to Chef Sydney in just a second.
But first, uh...
Okay, look, I'm not trying to be an asshole
and change your guys' system, okay?
I don't want to fuck it up,
I don't want to meddle with it or whatever the fuck, all right?
I want to harness it.
Okay, seriously, I wanna organize it.
We can't keep operating like this. We got a "C."
Guys, "C" stands for chaos. That can't happen again.
And that's why we are going to start operating like a French kitchen.
That means there's going to be a chain of command.
Okay? This was developed by Escoffier, and I think...
Escoffi-gay?
Love that dude.
- What's going on? - We're implementing a French brigade.
Mmm. Got it. Cool.
Yeah. (IMITATES BUZZER)
- Fuck that. - That's bullshit.
- Okay. - EBRAHEIM: Carmen, no.
- I was in a brigade once. - TINA: What happened?
Many people died.
- See? - CARMY: Okay. This is...
It'll be different.
All right, look, this is...
This is what real kitchens do. Guys, this is what real teams do.
Everybody takes care of their station,
they keep their own side of the street clean.
(PHONE RINGING)
Yeah? Okay.
I am going to go get that phone. Um...
But you are in good hands.
Uh, take it away, Chef. Thank you, guys.
Okay. So, as you may have heard,
we are implementing a French brigade.
We all heard that. Right.
So, Carmy is the head chef guy.
He's the chef de cuisine, or the CDC.
Uh, I would be...
I am the sous.
Like hierarchied.
More just like a regular, chill archy.
It's more about dividing labor. Because I'm the sous, right,
I just follow orders,
even if it leads to tension and chaos and resentment,
and ultimately, doesn't work. But that's what I do.
Sorry. I'm the sous.
- Tina, you are the... - No ingles.
I know you speak English. I've heard you.
You spoke English five seconds ago. You're the garde manger.
- Ebra... - Meat prep.
Yes, which means you are now the chef de partie.
Chef de partie.
Yes.
I accept.
Hey, this The Beef. Sorry about that. How can I help you?
MAN: Michael around?
Hello?
Uh, no. He's not here this second.
Um, can I ask who's calling?
Tell him Nico called. He's got my info.
Okay, Nico.
Sorry... Hello?
Who was that?
Yo, Carmen, who was that?
Um...
Some dude asking for Michael.
Uh...
Who?
Nico.
All right. I'll hit him.
- What's that about? - He's some idiot.
I got it. Don't worry about it.
What's up? You blow a fuse or something?
No, I just... I felt like Michael was alive for a second.
No, thanks.
(OVERLAPPING VOICES WHISPERING)
Okay, Marcus, you'll be...
- Patissier? - Yes, exactly.
I really could start fucking shit up if we source the bread.
- Not a bad idea. - I could light up a chocolate cake.
- Five bucks a slice. - Six bucks with ice cream.
Okay.
- Do you have a recipe? - No, Chef, but I can learn.
Make us more oven space as well.
- Yeah. - Yeah. I like this brigade.
Okay, I will be saucier,
which means I'll do gravies, stocks, that sort of thing.
Richie is doing whatever the fuck Richie does.
Um, every day, we'll start with a pre-shift meeting,
then we'll do a front-of-house walk-through,
then an end-of-day review.
We just talk about things,
see what we can do better, more efficiently.
I know it seems like a lot and kind of annoying,
but I promise this type of structure will be super helpful.
It'll make things run smoother, calmer.
I gotta run an errand. Could you hold down the fort? Thank you, Chef.
Just like that.
Okay. So I'm gonna do checks in a second, so just, you know...
Okay. Looks good in here. We got this. So...
Corner.
Chef, you're supposed to be prepping vegetables.
- You're not my Jeff. - Okay, today, I am,
- so can you please just... - Relax. I'll do it.
Relax. Chill.
Behind. Hey, Chef, what's the family meal?
Chicken sugara, using as few oven pans as possible.
SYDNEY: Great. Thank you.
- Behind. - MARCUS: One of them
- was like some gummy bear shit. - Corner.
- MARCUS: Okay, so it tastes like... - Behind.
- Yeah. But different level. - Behind, Chef.
- Come on. - Relax.
Fuck!
- MARCUS: Sydney, you okay? - Yes, I'm all right.
- Whoa. You all right? - I'm fine.
Let me see.
- Nothing happened. - You sure?
I am fine. Please, let's just close the box cutter.
Thank you. And not fucking put it there.
- Excuse me. Behind. - Relax.
You two look like you joined a dumbass cult.
- Thank you. - Thank you.
Stupid fucking aprons.
Yo.
Nico, you're dropping shit, man.
Chef, Ebra, are we good?
EBRAHEIM: Chef de partie, Chef, coming.
Looking good. What you got?
- Family sugara. - Sugara.
Great. Chef, you got my sides?
- Yes, Chef. - With onions?
- That's it. - Si.
Yo! Shit.
Shit. Fuck.
- Sorry. Fuck. - The stock's boiling.
Too cloudy. The heat was too high.
You didn't skim it properly.
You know better than that.
- I put it lower earlier. - It's not low enough.
- Thanks. - Thank you, Richie.
- Fortify it. - Okay, well, at least it's a jus.
No.
You need to strain it, add more onions,
- add more veal stock, reduce. - Yes.
I know how to make a stock.
Okay. It'll take 30 minutes. Let's go.
Where are the onions? They prepped?
- Tina. - I'm on lemons.
Tina should be on onions.
- Yes, Chef. - I told her earlier...
Yes, Chef!
- Yes, Chef. - Thank you.
Behind.
(WHISTLING)
(ALARM BEEPING)
Chefs, walk-through.
Um, not good. So...
You betrayed me.
Are you serious, Chef?
Come on, clean your station, and also your nails. Thank you.
Guys. Can someone please clean these out? These are disgusting.
Seriously, please.
Okay, I'm gonna need bags and napkins already ready before service.
Manny and Angel are helping you with paper cups, plates,
but that's not really their duty.
Plus, love the wiping, love that energy.
Maybe we do it on the floors?
Because they are so dirty. I almost broke my neck.
I think I'm gonna pass out just looking at them.
Um, what's up?
- Yes, Chef. - Great. Okay.
It's fine.
Fine?
Did I piss you off?
No. If you are happy with this, then I am.
Guys, where's my onions?
Where are my onions?
Yeah, that's a really good one.
I don't know.
- Hey. - Hey.
We should outsource bread.
- Way ahead of you. - Okay.
All right.
- You didn't take my onions, did you? - No.
No. They did this to me last week. It's just part of paying your dues.
MARCUS: You are angry right now.
Damn. We got you. (LAUGHS)
They made me do it.
I swear it wasn't my idea. I swear.
- Fuck you. - Hey, come on, Sydney.
- Fuck off. - It was just...
- We was messing around. - Shut the fuck up.
- It wasn't my idea. - SYDNEY: Leave me alone.
Fucking fuck.
- Let me help you with that. - No. Don't.
- Are you sure? - I am fucking sure.
Do you ask Carmen if he's sure?
- It's just heavy. - No, you don't.
So you stick to your shit, okay? I'll stick to mine.
Yes, Chef.
Just keep going.
(SIGHS)
What the hell were you doing, Mike?
(DIALING)
AUTOMATED VOICE: The number you have reached is not in service.
EBRAHEIM: Family's up, chefs.
Fuck.
- Yo. - Yo.
- Family's up. - Thanks.
CARMY: Chef.
Thank you.
- It's good. - No, it looks good, right. Yeah.
Mind if I chill for a second?
- Sure. Yeah. - Yeah.
How's bookkeeping?
It's a mess.
- How's our brigade? - It's a mess.
What's going on with you?
Nothing.
Sydney.
Um...
Yeah, today was
really bad for me, Chef.
Okay.
Can you say more?
I don't know. Um...
Chef, you...
You kind of let everybody act like trash,
and really came at me a little, I guess.
- Uh... - I expect more from you.
Hold you to a higher standard.
Paying my dues.
Doing your job, which is to, at times, listen to your boss.
I think this place could be so different
from all the other places we've been at.
But in order for that to be true, we need to run things different.
When I said I didn't think that the brigade
was a good idea, you didn't listen.
And it's not that you told me that I had to.
That's fine. Whatever.
But you just didn't really listen.
And
if this is going to work the way that, I think, we both want it to work,
I think we should probably
try to listen to each other.
Yeah. You're right.
The reason I'm here and not working somewhere else
or for someone else
is 'cause I think I can stand out here.
I can make a difference here, we can share ideas.
I can implement things that make this place better.
And I don't want to be wasting my time working on another line
or tweezing herbs on a dish that I don't care about,
or running brunch, God forbid.
Yeah.
And then, you know,
you kind of left. You did.
Not even kind of, you just straight up left.
- Yeah. - And that's not really cool.
- No, it's not. - After dumping all this stuff on me.
I know. I know that. Um...
I went to an Al-Anon meeting. My brother, he was an addict.
Chef, that is a little too personal, I think.
Oh...
I'm sorry. I was just fucking with you.
I'm sorry.
I'm so sorry.
- That's all right. -(LAUGHING)
That's all right.
I just...
- I feel like I'm owed one. - Sure.
It's not an excuse. I know.
I know that.
But now I know that you know, so...
Good.
Fucking brunch.
- Fuck brunch. - Fuck brunch.
- We're gonna get rocked tonight. - Absolutely fucking destroyed, yeah.
SYDNEY: All right, two chickens, three beef.
One more sausage pepper, one mortadella.
Let's 86 the ravioli, please, chefs.
Two chicken.
Let me get ten beef all day, six hot, four sweet. Thank you.
SUGAR: Hey, it's me again.
Not sure why you're not calling me back,
but it's Michael's birthday,
and I'm thinking about you.