Replacing Chef Chico

["Till The Morning Comes" by Leanne & Naara playing]

Hello?

I'm really, really sorry, I'm running late.

Fuck you, moron! Stay in your fucking lane!

- -

-Chef, relax. -Oh, figures. It's a woman's driving.

-Just relax. -How do I fucking relax?

Hain's numbers are still down, and Dad is livid.

He's giving me six months to turn things around.

And this is the final chance, or I'll lose the restaurant.

Chef, that won't happen, okay?

I'll make sure. We'll make sure.

I mean, you've got the whole kitchen staff behind you.

Thanks, Ella. What would I do without you?

All right, I have to go.

I'll be there in maybe five minutes.

Okay, Chef.

My lumpiang sisig is almost done.

Maybe you can try it because I think there might be something missing.

Can't wait to see you. Bye-bye.

- Oh, dear. Chef Love. - Hm?

I have to tell you, I'm really impressed

by how you put up with "What the fuck?" kind of attitude from Chef Chico.

'Nay, he's like most chefs.

I don't know.

Ella, maybe it's finally time for you to open your own restaurant.

Like you've dreamed. I know you could do it.

It always seems like, to me, that you're putting it off for Chef Chico.

You could always tell me if you are into Chico.

'Nay.

He's my head chef and I'm his sous chef. Nothing more, nothing less.

Okay. If that's what you say.

He has a girlfriend, remember?

Your point is? Well, even countries break up with one another, Chef.

-'Nay, Ditas, stop it. -Isn't that so? What?

- -

Ugh, Chef "What The Fuck" is here.

That was fast. I thought he said five minutes.

Surprise! I thought we could add it to our menu.

Oh, sorry!

So sorry. Sorry. Oh, my god.

I'm sorry about… but… but how'd you get back here?

Another woman let me in.

Oh, sorry, Chef Ella.

I let him in just now,

because he said he has a meeting with Chef Chico.

Sir, why did you come straight back here? I didn't think you'd do that.

Sorry, I'm early, I guess.

-Um… -You have a meeting with Chef Chico here?

Why?

Um, sorry, but I'm not at liberty to disclose.

Anyway, I'll just wait in the dining area.

Um, by the way, that's delicious. But it could use a little extra heat.

Excuse me.

First of all, I didn't confirm this meeting.

Our kitchen is busy today, and I need to focus all of my energy on our service.

It's not busy right now, Chef.

-A chef's mind is never not busy. -Okay, I'll get to the point.

Chef Magazine released its Best of the Philippines list,

and Hain didn't make it. Again.

Please, not now.

Not even an honorable mention. Not even a sentence or phrase about Hain.

You don't think I know that, man?

Chef, Asia's Best of the Best list will be up in a few months.

Hain has to be there. Even just a mention, I'll take that.

Not now. Please.

I was told that your Kuya Pao's Pampanga townhouses already sold 80%,

and your Kuya Ernest's resort condo in Cebu, 90% sold,

with Tower 3 on its way.

Not now.

Chef, I'm here to help.

It's a six-month ultimatum. Let's work together.

Renovate a little, change the menu, overhaul the dining experience.

Chef, I'm on your team.

I fucking said, not fucking now!

I'm the chef.

I decide who's on my team, and that doesn't include you.

-So can you please leave? -Chef, I'm not trying--

Don't make me say it again, buddy.

Okay.

Someone is a little tensed.

Fuck!

- -Chef.

What happened?

Uh, look, Ella, I don't want to burden you with my problem, okay? Just…

We have a busy day ahead.

Three years of being your second-in-command,

I've demonstrated my loyalty to you, I'm more than just your sous chef.

You know I support you in the choices you make.

So whatever that burden is, please put some of it on me

so it isn't yours alone to bear.

I'll be okay.

I'll be okay.

But as always…

thank you.

Chef Chico, Chef Ella, are we pushing through with the meeting?

You might hear some rumors about Hain.

That Hain is performing below par,

that Hain is closing down, Hain is…

failing to deliver, yada, yada.

You know what, these people that are saying these things,

they're just jealous of Hain's success.

But the next six months…

are going to be very crucial to Hain.

Voting for Asia's Best of the Best is in a few months,

and I'm going to prove to them

that there's nothing like the art and genius of Hain.

Look, Hain, it's not about money.

We're about every guest's story.

The only degustation restaurant that personalizes the menu

based on our guests' unique story and personality,

even going out of our way to interview them,

deserves to finally have a spot on that fucking list.

'Kay, let's get a rundown of the guests. Ella?

You, take the minutes.

Me?

Yes, you. Is there a problem?

Um, no, Chef.

Table four, a young couple celebrating their second anniversary.

The guy is allergic to…

-Chef Carlon? -Shrimps.

Table five, a group of three fresh graduates.

First salary.

How many vegans?

Chef Juancho, how many vegans?

Uh…

Two?

One. One fucking vegan.

For real, man?

Sorry, Chef.

For our PDR, it's an intimate farewell dinner

for three of Ms. Tessa's closest friends.

She asked us to design a five-course menu with all of her favorite Filipino dishes.

She didn't specify any food restrictions or any allergies,

but weirdly, she's diabetic and hypertensive.

So let's serve her the best Hain experience.

Or you can get the fuck out of my kitchen! Okay?

Yes, Chef!

One hour before we open, let's go.

- One hour! -Scram!

Good evening, ma'am.

We're so pleased you're here at Hain.

Yes, darling? It's rude to stare.

I'm sorry, ma'am, um…

Do you have a reservation, ma'am?

Table for four, 8 p.m. dinner.

Uh, you must be Ms. Tessa Monteagudo?

Yes.

Ma'am, I think you're a little early.

Well, I'm usually fashionably late.

But for the last time, I want to arrive the earliest at my own dinner.

Oh.

Welcome to Hain. A pleasure, Ms. Tessa.

Our team looks forward to preparing your meal.

Please, this way.

Oh.

My favorite white roses! You remembered.

It's the Hain experience, ma'am.

-Thank you. -Have a seat, ma'am.

- - Service!

Ms. Tessa is already here, 30 minutes early.

All right, Private Dining Room, prep four appetizers.

Brûlée kalabasa with oyster and crispy yam.

- Yes, Chef! - Eight minutes!

All right, on table five!

We have two eggplant omelet with cheese,

along with one drunken shrimp,

two crab garlic rice.

Yes, Chef!

Hi, ma'am. Table reservation for four?

Sorry, miss, it's just some of our friends confirmed late.

Ah, okay, so you'll be five in total, right?

Oh, sorry, sorry, the traffic was bad.

Actually, seven. That's okay, right?

Uh…

We're starving.

Chef, the guests for Ms. Tessa's dinner have arrived.

Instead of four guests, they're seven now.

And they said they're so hungry. They're starving.

- -Fuck!

Why can't people respect reservations?

Chef, it's okay. Don't panic, guys.

-We can handle it. -Ella, just… fix this. You make this work.

Prep four more appetizers.

Okay, ten minutes, Chef.

Ten minutes? Do it in six!

-I can't, Chef, it takes more-- -Fine, I'll handle it, I'll do it, then.

Just bring me the fucking ingredients!

Ingredients! Now! Let's go!

Who took my knife? Huh? Who took my knife?

I said, who took my fucking knife?

Chef, I… I'm sorry. I, uh… Because I was panicking earlier,

I just grabbed it. I'm not…

No one uses my fucking knife.

Not even you.

Especially you.

PDR, eight appetizers, ready!

-Service! - Yes, Chef.

Five minutes, fifty-six fucking seconds!

And that's how you fucking do it.