JUNIOR MARTYRCHEF
Fuchsia, Arpeggio ... come here immediately. I'm appalled. I ask you two to plate up and you barely even show up. Not in any real culinary sense. What is this ? Huh ? What is it supposed to be ? Call this zabaglione ? This is rubbish. This lacks spiritual and structural integrity, and metaphysically it's just a mess. Zabaglione should taste like the sweat off an angel's neck. This ..... Unspeakable. I'm sorry but you'll both have to go. Pack your bags and get out.
FUCHSIA & ARPEGGIO: But Daddy, we're only eight years old
Eight ? Don't make this any worse. Young Cordelia Smith-Jones. Perfect profiteroles. What is she ? Six ?
Can barely pronounce profiteroles, but she shows up and she plates up. Like a proper child. Go on, get out !
FUCHSIA & ARPEGGIO: But Daddy ...
After everything we've done . I could weep. Your mother and I took you to elBulli in utero. You'd both eaten $900 worth of squid-ink ice-cream before you were born. Now get out and never darken our Ukrainian Oak chopping board again.
FUCHSIA & ARPEGGIO: But Daddy, we're only eight years old
Eight ? Don't make this any worse. Young Cordelia Smith-Jones. Perfect profiteroles. What is she ? Six ?
Can barely pronounce profiteroles, but she shows up and she plates up. Like a proper child. Go on, get out !
FUCHSIA & ARPEGGIO: But Daddy ...
After everything we've done . I could weep. Your mother and I took you to elBulli in utero. You'd both eaten $900 worth of squid-ink ice-cream before you were born. Now get out and never darken our Ukrainian Oak chopping board again.
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