MargotI said, "I don't like your food," and I would like to send it back.
Chef SlowikI'm sorry to hear that. What about my food is not to your liking?
MargotFor starters, you've taken the joy out of eating. Every dish you served tonight has been some intellectual exercise rather than something you want to sit and enjoy. When I eat your food, it tastes like it was made with no love.
Chef SlowikOh, this is ridiculous. We always cook with love. Everyone knows love is the most important ingredient.
MargotThen you're kidding yourself. Come on, Chef. I thought tonight was a night of hard home truths. This is one of them. You cook with obsession, not love. Even your hot dishes are cold. You're a chef. Your single purpose on this Earth is to serve people food that they might actually like, and you have failed. You've failed. And you've bored me. And the worst part is I'm still fucking hungry.
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Chef SlowikIt wasn't cod, you donkey. It was halibut.
Chef SlowikSo once again, thank you for dining with us tonight. You represent the ruin of my art and my life, and now you get to be a part of it. Part of what I hope is my... masterpiece. And now our final dessert course is a playful twist on a comfort food classic: The s'more. The most offensive assault on the human palate ever contrived. Unethically sourced chocolate and gelatinized sugar water imprisoned by industrial-grade graham cracker. It's everything wrong with us, and yet we associate it with innocence. With childhood. Mom and dad. But what transforms this fucking monstrosity is fire. The purifying flame. It nourishes us, warms us, reinvents us, forges and destroys us. We must embrace the flame. We must be cleansed. Made clean. Like martyrs or heretics, we can be subsumed... and made anew.
Chef SlowikAsk yourselves, this entire evening, why didn't you all try harder to fight back? To get out of here? Honestly, you probably could have. Something to think about.
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Chef SlowikOver the next few hours you will ingest fat, salt, sugar, protein, bacteria, fungi, various plants and animals, and, at times, entire ecosystems. But I have to beg of you one thing. It's just one. Do not eat. Taste. Savor. Relish. Consider every morsel that you place inside your mouth. Be mindful. But do not eat. Our menu is too precious for that. And look around you. Here we are on this island. Accept. Accept all of it. And forgive. And on that note... food!
Chef SlowikOne moment, please. One cheeseburger to go. And a gift bag. Thank you for dining at Hawthorn.
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Chef SlowikAs Dr. King said: "We know through painful experience that freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor. It must be demanded by the oppressed."
Chef SlowikShallots for the great foodie, the phenomenal Mr. Food himself. Everybody gather round. You must learn from Tyler. This is a new uh, new dicing method of which we have been woefully ignorant. What next?
Chef SlowikEveryone would die. You had a date. I seem to remember you had a date. Not the young woman here tonight, so what happened to her? Your date?
Chef SlowikOur next course will be presented by sous-chef, Katherine Keller.
KatherineGood evening, everyone. Three years ago, Julian Slowik tried to fuck me. I refused his advances. A week later, he tried again. And again, I refused. But he didn't fire me. No. He kept me in his kitchen, and refused to look me in the eye or speak directly to me for eight months. He can do that. Because he's the star. He's the man. Our next course is called Man's Folly.
Chef SlowikEleven. Eleven times. Most people consider themselves blessed if they eat here only once. Mr. Leibrandt, kindly name one dish you ate the last time you were here. Eleven times you take the boat out here where we introduce every dish every single time. We tell you exactly what we're feeding you. Please tell me one dish you ate the last time you were here. Or the time before. One. Please.
Chef SlowikIt matters to the halibut, Mrs. Leibrandt. And to the artist whose work turns to shit inside your gut. I've allowed my work to reach the price point where only the class of people in this room can access it. And I've been fooled into trying to satisfy people who could never be satisfied. Starting with her. But that's our culture, isn't it? And my restaurant is part of the problem.
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Chef SlowikLadies and gentlemen, please meet sous-chef Jeremy Louden. Jeremy created the next dish. It's called The Mess. Originally from Sparks, Nevada, Jeremy studied at the Culinary Institute in Hyde Park. Jeremy's goal, as he wrote in a heartfelt letter, was to work for me here at Hawthorn. Isn't that right, Jeremy?
JeremyYes, Chef.
Chef SlowikJeremy is talented. He's good. He's very good. But he's not great. He'll never be great. He desperately wants my prestige, my job, my talent. He aspires to greatness, but he'll never achieve it. Correct, Jeremy?
JeremyYes, Chef.
Chef SlowikLike me at his age, Jeremy has forsaken everything to achieve his goals. Like mine, his life is pressure. Pressure to put out the best food in the world. And even when all goes right, and the food is perfect, and the customers are happy, and the critics are, too, there is no way to avoid the mess. The mess you make of your life, of your body, of your sanity, by giving everything you have to pleasing people you will never know. Jeremy... do you like this life? This life that you dreamed about?
JeremyNo, Chef.
Chef SlowikMmm-hmm. And do you want my life? Not my position, nor my talent. My life.
JeremyNo, Chef.
Chef SlowikLadies and gentlemen, your fourth course, sous-chef Jeremy's The Mess.
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Chef SlowikI want you to understand something, Margot. I am a monster. No, was a monster. And a whore. But tonight, everything I'm doing is pure. Egoless. And at last, the pain is almost gone. Chef's hands. Asbestos hands. I can carry a cast-iron from a hot oven to your table with no protection. I can no longer be hurt, Margot. As Dr. King said, 'We know through painful experience that freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor. It must be demanded by the oppressed.'
Chef SlowikIt was a Sunday. My one day off in months. The most precious day. The day where I was allowed to live. And I saw the film Calling Doctor Sunshine alone in the cinema.
Movie StarBut look, I, I, I didn't direct it. I just acted in it.
Chef SlowikThe memory of your face in that film, and seeing you again now haunts me. Drives me. What happens to an artist when he loses his purpose? It's pitiful.
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BryceHe kept you open through COVID you prick, he did that!
Chef SlowikYes, he did and he questioned my menu. He would even request substitutions despite the fact that there are no substitutions at Hawthorn! Fallen angel please.
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Chef SlowikBread has existed in some form for over 12,000 years, especially amongst the poor. Flour and water. What could be simpler? Even today, grain represents 65% of all agriculture. Fruits and vegetables only 6%. Ancient Greek peasants dipped their stale, measly bread in wine for breakfast. And how did Jesus teach us to pray if not to beg for our daily bread?
Chef SlowikIt is, and has always been, the food of the common man. But you, my dear guests, are not the common man. And so tonight... you get no bread.
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Chef SlowikAnd please enjoy your gift bags. Um... Some goodies in there. A booklet of our local suppliers, some house-made granola, one of Doug Verrick's fingers, and a copy of tonight's menu.
Sous-Chefs and Remaining Dinner Guests[in unison] WE LOVE YOU, CHEF!
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Chef SlowikThe next course is called Memory. And that is what it's meant to evoke. A memory. So, let me tell you a memory of mine. When I was growing up, a child in Waterloo, Iowa, Tuesday was taco night.
Chef SlowikAnd this, here, this lady here. This is my mother. As you can see, she's rather drunk. This is not unusual. When I was seven years old, one Tuesday, my father came home quite drunk. Really drunk. Also, not unusual. My mother grew angry and screamed at him, at which point, he proceeded to wrap a telephone cord around her neck and pull it tight. I wept. I screamed, I begged him to stop. To make him stop, I finally had to stab him in the thigh with kitchen scissors. You remember that, Mother, don't you? Now, I suppose I should've stabbed him in the throat that evening. But we're not so smart when we're young. It was, as you can imagine, as a very memorable taco night.
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Chef SlowikI guess I'm gonna have to make your decision for you. You belong here with your own breed.
Chef SlowikWith the shit shovelers. You thought I couldn't tell? Oh, I know a fellow service industry worker when I see one. Mr. Leibrandt. How do you know him? You've been eyeing him all evening.
Chef SlowikNo, I don't. So, he paid for an experience. And I can tell, as one provider of experiences to another, that you don't rattle easily. So, how did he rattle you?
MargotNot really. Pretty unoriginal. What rattled me is that he told me to tell him that he was a good man, and that I was his daughter, and that he loved me, and I loved him and...
MargotSo, um, lots more food to come. Don't wanna fill up.
Chef SlowikThat would not be possible. I've precisely designed the portions to account for that. So, you won't fill up. Please eat. The menu only makes sense if you eat.
Chef SlowikIt matters because this menu, this guest list, this entire evening has been painstakingly planned. And you were not a part of that plan. And it's spoiling everything. In order to proceed, I have to know where to seat you. With us, or with them? It's really... It's very important.
Chef SlowikNo, it's not arbitrary. Nothing in this kitchen is arbitrary. Please pick. These decisions are important, and, uh, our menu is strictly timed. In 15 minutes, I'll take a break between courses, and that is how long you have to decide. It's our side or theirs. In the meantime, please return to your seat. The next dish is exquisite.
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TylerOh, my God. I mean, it's next-level badassery. The way he weaves in historical allegories. I mean, the game is trying to guess what the overarching theme of the entire meal is gonna be. You won't know until the end.
TylerTrust me. He's telling a story. That's what makes his food so exciting. He's not just a chef. He's a storyteller. And he doesn't give a fuck about the rules.
MargotCall me the girl next door, but maybe there are some rules that you should give a fuck about, like, I don't know, giving food to people at a restaurant.
TylerDearest, no one would ever call you the girl next door.
JeremyOh, we like to know everyone who dines with us.
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SommelierThat's a 2013 Pinot Noir from Ross Cobb. We hyper-decanted it with an immersion blender to awaken it from its slumber. Slavonian oak, rich cherry and tobacco notes, and a faint sense of longing and regret. Enjoy.
TylerYou do not send shit back to this kitchen, you child. You thank them for even letting you in the door.
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Chef SlowikOur first course is called The Island. On your plate are plants from around the island, placed on rocks from the shore, covered in barely frozen, filtered seawater which will flavor the dish as it melts.
TylerYou know, this is what the guy was fishing for earlier...
Chef SlowikIt's perfectly all right. Yes, they are those very same scallops. Now, here is what you must remember about this dish. We, the people on this island, are not important. The island and the nutrients it provides exist in their most perfect state without us gathering them or manipulating them, or digesting them. What happens inside this room is meaningless compared to what happens outside in nature, in the soil, in the water, in the air. We are but a frightened nanosecond. Nature is timeless. Enjoy.
LillianYeah. This is what he does. It's part of the menu.
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Chef SlowikSo, in a kitchen we all work together, or nothing works at all. We work as a team. You... Margot from Nebraska. You... You've betrayed our sacred bond of trust. And you've shown your craft to be careless. I was wrong. You're, you're an eater. You're a taker. Like all the rest.
SommelierAnd to pair, from our friends at Caroline Morey, a Chassagne-Montrachet premier cru from 2014. Not just a single vineyard. A single row of vines.
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Chef SlowikIn this spirit, please enjoy the unaccompanied accompaniments.
Felicity"The bread you will not be eating tonight was made from a heritage wheat called red fife, crafted with our partners at the Tehachapi Grain Project devoted to preserving heirloom grains." This is insane.
Movie StarMmm! I gotta say that the shit around the total absence of the bread is, like, really good.
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ElsaFeel free to observe the cooks as they innovate. But please, do not photograph our dishes. Chef strongly feels that the beauty in his creations... lies in their ephemeral nature.
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Tyler[nervously Sautéing some lamb]Oh, yeah, I think it's done, Chef.
TylerYeah, those people are idiots. What they do, it doesn't matter. They play with inflatable balls and ukuleles and shit. Chefs, they play with the raw materials of life itself. And death itself. It's... I mean, I've watched every fucking episode of Chef's Table two or three times. I've watched Slowik's 20 times. I've watched him explain the exact moment a green strawberry is perfectly unripe. I've watched him plate a raw scallop during its last dying contraction of muscle. It's art on the edge of the abyss, which is where God works, too. It's the same.
MargotYou're fucking kidding, right? What, are we eating a Rolex?
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Chef SlowikSo, here you have house-smoked Bresse chicken thigh al pastor and our own tortillas made with heirloom masa, one of Hawthorn's signature dishes.
Chef SlowikPut me on the map. Precisely what map would that be... I wonder. Anyways, because we're always innovating, and we fear irrelevance, an update to a classic. The images on the tortillas have been made using a laser-engraving machine. It's the first time we've used it. We hope this taco night evokes strong memories for us all. Enjoy.
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MargotWe have reached the base camp of Mount Bullshit. This is insane.
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Chef SlowikUm, ladies and gentlemen, I wanna apologize to you all. What you just saw was not originally part of tonight's menu. We strive for perfection, which of course does not exist, and that is a hard truth for me to accept, so please forgive me. Come with me.
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DaleDid anybody here call in a distress over the shortwave tonight?
Chef SlowikWe're not in the habit of serving our guests shortwave radios with their meals.
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LillianThere's a neediness to the plating, you know. I mean, it's been tweezered to fuck. But the flavors are there. It's very clean. It's very, um, thalassic.
Chef SlowikThere's a saying. 'Sometimes all you need is a good cup of tea.' I learned that growing up in Bratislava. I've found that not only does tea cleanse the palate, but it offers a soothing balm when facing some hard home truths. But before we continue, are there any questions about me or Hawthorn? Any questions?
Chef SlowikA tasting concept. Figuratively speaking. I think that is the best way to describe it. But none of this should be a surprise to most of you.
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FelicityThen why don't you go talk to him? Go talk to him! Because you know him, right?
Movie StarBecause I'm a name-dropping whore. That's why, okay?
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Elsa[deeply pretentious]Feel free to observe the cooks as they innovate. But please do not photograph our dishes. Chef strongly feels that the beauty of his creations lies in their ephemeral nature.
Margot[to Tyler]And I strongly feel the need to punch her in the cunt. Like an uppercut. Right to the cunt.
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DaveSo, maybe there's a spare boat somewhere and we can get out of here.
Movie StarWe shoot me in capri pants on a pastel green Vespa, driving around to get to some Giuseppe's farm with cheese. I eat the cheese, and then... There's a close-up of me. And I close my eyes, and I fake an orgasm, and then off to South Africa, and then, I maybe... I talk about how racism is not so cool, and bingo bongo, Emmy time.
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Tyler[laughing]That was a shock, I didn't see that comin'!
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SorenWhatever. At least we can say we've been here, right? My dad used to say that you buy the experience.
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AnneI don't usually enjoy foam, but this is delicious.
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[her last lines]
ElsaHe didn't tell me about the barrel. I didn't forget.