The Cook, the Thief, His Wife & Her Lover

Go and get the dogs.

Come on, then. Mews!

Come on, now. Open your mouth. Open your mouth, eh?

Learn to appreciate your food, eh?

Compared to what you serve up in that dirty little canteen of yours,

this is a three-star supper.

You must learn the rules.

I need to eat and drink the very best and that's expensive.

Have you ever heard of chicken à la reine Marie

or oyster sauce mornay

or frogs' legs Parisienne?

No. Course you haven't.

Take his pants down! Take his pants down.

Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.

Didn't your daddy teach you to wipe your bottom? Eh?

Albert! Leave him alone.

- Come on, let's eat. - Oh, let's eat.

Before we eat, Georgina, we must feed and water the animals.

Roy! This is my wife, Georgina Spica.

She's got a heart of gold and a body to match.

I am Albert Spica and I have a heart of gold and a great deal of money to match.

And you are Roy, who's got absolutely nothing,

except what you owe me.

You are humiliated in front of a lady, you're humiliated in front of us.

Georgina, I'll be as quick as I possibly can.

Goh-You, go and get me some hot water, eh?

And a towel and soap.

Now...

Yeah.

Now I've given you a good dinner and you can have a nice drink.

Now, you behave yourself in future and pay when I ask you.

No, no, no...

Or next time I'll make you eat your own shit

after forcing it through your dick like toothpaste.

No, put that away, Spangler. Cor blimey, there's a lady present.

She doesn't want to see your shrivelled contributions.

That's it. Thank you very much. Nice, clean...

Give me that towel!

Give me that. Yeah.

I never liked that Chinese food but looking at you now, I like it even less.

Righto, boys!

We must surprise Richard on our anniversary.

Bring the letters.

Georgie, you got ash on your tits. If you're gonna wear black, don't smoke.

- You look like a tart in black. - It's blue.

It's black, and don't smoke. It's sloppy in a woman.

No one who's going to eat smokes.

It ruins your taste buds, burns your tongue and makes your pee stink.

- Rubbish. - It's not bloody rubbish.

I've smelt the loo after you've been piddling in there.

When are you gonna learn, smartarse?

Have mercy upon me.

Come on, hurry up, boys.

...upon me .

Righto, lads, get them numbers up there - Spica & Boarst.

Blot out my transgressions

Purge me with hyssop

And I shall be clean

Wash me

Wash me

And I shall be whiter than snow.

Where's Richard?

- He's plucking. - He's plucking, eh? Richard!

Where are you? Stop that plucking. Where are you?

Now what's that? A-S-P...

That's nonsense. Spell it right, for Christ's sake.

Bloody hell. Richard! Rich...

There you are, Richard. Now...

Leave that out and come and see what I've got you, eh?

I've brought you a present. This is our anniversary.

Three months of mutual understanding, eh, Richard?

Three months since I first invited you to be my favourite restaurateur.

Mr Spica, this is a duck.

Ducks are born with the feathers on

but it's your dinner, Mr Spica.

If you want the feathers to remain, we could try the dish,

I suppose, by leaving the feathers as they are.

Canard en ses plumes torche.

Mitchel, you mule.

'Ere, Richard, come and see, come on.

Please, I beg you. Ha! Come on.

Georgina, how many times have I told you? No smoking in the kitchen.

Mitchel, get your arse down here quick. Come on.

Now, Richard, this is your... well, our new sign.

Da-da-da-da-da-da!

Wallop!

Oh, God!

Richard.

- It's dark in the restaurant. - Yes, Phillipe.

Thanks to Mr Spica's generosity, it is dark everywhere.

No power, no light.

Were you thinking of a cold buffet tonight?

But I don't want a cold buffet.

- Paté d'alouettes with a chicory sauce. - Paté d'alouettes with a chicory sauce.

- Terrine de caneton. - Terrine de canton.

- Cold turkey with lemon and basilica. - Cold turkey with the lemon and basilica.

Anchovies in garlic vinegar.

It doesn't have to be cold, you've got gas, for God's sake!

Got an arse on her like two greased watermelons in a sack.

Cold chicken, paté d'alouettes,

salade de langoustine, gâteau de carottes et Gruyére...

You. You put them electrics right, Mitchel. Put them electrics right or...

You don't eat.

You don't eat.

I told you not to smoke.

I should stand still, Mr Spica. Or who knows?

You might spoil something, put your foot in something.

So, a hot meal for tonight. Something special, please. How about some...

some, er, Les oh d'oeuvres, er, gâteau au poivres,

er, terrine et fillet lamb et poison Au er, poi, poi...

- It's "Poisson". - What did you say, Georgie?

What did you say? What did you say?

Poisson.

- Well, Mr Spica, I hope you are hungry. - Always. Get in there, boys.

Go on, Georgie, go in there, raise your skirts and warm my seat.

Eh, what do you think then, eh? What do you...?

If you spent as much money on the meal, Mr Spica,

as you waste on the decor,

your taste in good food must surely improve.

You'll cheek me once too often, Boarst. You rely on me, don't forget.

Without me, you, a foreigner, you wouldn't last long around here.

Look out there, see what I've brought you.

Two vans full of good stuff, just right for your kitchen.

- I would not touch it. - Why on earth not?

I insist on buying my own food, Mr Spica.

Then I can be sure of its quality.

I represent quality round here, my name is known for it.

I offer quality and protection.

Protection against what, I wonder, Mr Spica? And whom?

Protection, Boarst, against the rash temper of my men.

Against a sudden arrival of food poisoning.

Against rats. Against the public health inspector.

If you are hungry tonight, you are going to have to wait.

Do up the third button of your expensive jacket, Mr Spica.

You'll feel less empty inside, Mr Spica.

You can't make me wait.

Deliver me

From blood-guiltiness

O God

My tongue shall sing aloud

Of Thy righteousness

Have mercy upon me

Blot out my transgressions

O Lord, open Thou my lips

And my mouth

Shall show forth Thy praise

And my mouth

Shall show forth Thy praise

And my mouth

Shall show forth Thy praise

And my mouth

Shall show forth Thy praise .

No, you don't eat it like that! Let me show you.

Oh. Imagine you are sucking the little fingers of a lady or...

No, you'd never get that close to a lady. Who'd wanna get that close to you?

- I wouldn't be interested in her fingers. - I'd expect you to say that.

You'd just whip it in, whip it out and wipe it on your jacket.

Look at your jacket, it's like a pig field.

And your nails could do with a clean. Show me.

Gawd. Why can't I have some bloody quality in my associates?

From now on, anyone not properly dressed for dinner will pay for it.

I'll write lessons down for you. Georgina can type them out.

"Notes For Gourmets". That's French for a good eater, isn't it, Boarst?

- Gourmets don't belch. - On the contrary, on the contrary. They do.

It shows that you are enjoying a meal.

Not with your fingers, Spangler! That's all you understand -

things you eat with your hands whilst walking down the street.

You told Mews to eat the celery with his fingers.

That's different, you dope. And it's asparagus, not celery.

What's the point of sinking thousands into a restaurant

if you refuse to eat properly?

- Tell him, Georgina. - Tell him what?

Just copy Georgina. She knows how to do it. Cory, get Richard in here.

I want my sign fixed up and put on that wall over the kitchen door.

If Richard was more interested in slogans, he'd make more money, eh?

This place is too dark.

Could do with a respray. Gold, it needs more gold.

How about gold and blue?

What do you think, Henry? 10,000 should do it - two months' takings.

You should get in there. Boarst's prices are all over the place.

His head's in the clouds. Good cook. Brilliant cook!

Except he puts mushrooms on everything. Henry, put that cigarette out.

Do you mind if I eat whilst you smoke?

Gordon choked on a cigarette whilst eating - burnt his epiglottis.

Mitchel, you've got one. And you don't keep it in your trousers.

You don't put orange rind on the edge of your plate, it goes there, you dolt!

What you've got to realise is that a clever cook puts unlikely things together

like duck and orange, like pineapple and ham.

It's called artistry.

I'm an artist, the way I combine my business and my pleasure.

Money's my business, eating's my pleasure.

And Georgie's my pleasure too, though in a more private kind of way

than stuffing the mouth and feeding the sewers.

Though the pleasures are related,

because the naughty bits and the dirty bits are so close together

that it just goes to show how eating and sex are related.

Georgie's naughty bits are nicely related, aren't they?

Especially when she's paying me attention. Georgie.

Get Phillipe! In future, I want my napkins folded at home, Georgina.

Get Adele to teach you.