Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares

Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares is a reality TV program presented by Chef Gordon Ramsay where he visits failing restaurants across the UK. It aired in the UK from April 27 2004 to January 30 2009

Series OneEdit

Bonaparte's [1.01]Edit

Gordon: (voiceover) Nearly every successful restaurant has a dish that it's renowned for. I'm hoping that by cooking his, Tim will produce something truly memorable. Something truly worthy of a place on a fine dining menu. (to Tim) That's your signature dish, which is...?
Tim: Scallops with deep fried parma ham, black pudding and sauce hollandaise.
Gordon: Mmm-hmm. (voiceover) Certainly looks okay.
[Gordon, Tim and Lee sample the dish]
Tim: What do you think?
[After a few seconds, Gordon runs outside the kitchen and throws up]
Tim: He's going to be sick.
Gordon: (voiceover) He's only gone and given me a rancid scallop.
Tim: Someone get him a drink. Get him a drink, Lee.
Gordon: Fucking shit! (drinks water) How can you eat that? If you knew they were off, why didn't you say?
Tim: No, I didn't! I didn't know they were off.
Gordon: They're fucking minging! Can't you taste that?
Tim: I do now, yeah. It took a while...
[Gordon throws up again]
Tim: I know what he means, I feel sick myself now.
Gordon: (interview) It's... it's grim. It's fucking grim, and it's out of order.
Tim: Well, I didn't realize they were fucking off, so... I suppose it's my fault, really.
Gordon: (interview) That could kill someone. That's the bottom line.

[During the end-of-episode revisit, after finding the kitchen in an even worse state than when he first arrived]
Gordon: Holy fuck! This is a living fucking nightmare!

Gordon: This is not right, this is fucking miles away! This is a fucking nightmare, you know that? Because it's more loss on top of more loss and more loss and more mould! And that's what worries me, because you need to touch that... (touches a mouldy tomato) ...rub your finger on that, you go a to chip, you need to season something, you put your finger in the tomato soup, and then they're all fucked! You've contaminated the whole place, and that's what really worries me. This kitchen is not fit to cook a fucking thing in, and that's YOUR problem!

[Tim has just been fired]
Tim: It's beyond recognition, really, isn't it? How fucking stupid someone can be. I just don't... (sighs)
Director: (off-camera) And who is that someone, Tim?
Tim: Oh, that would be me, pretty much. Yeah.

Series TwoEdit

D-Place [2.02]Edit

Gordon: D-Place is in D-Shit.

[Gordon checks the potatoes which head chef Philippe claims that they are roasted]
Gordon: Listen, let me have a quick word with you. This man (Israel) is paying your salary. His business is about to close. You understand how critical the situation is? So pay the man fucking respect and tell the truth. You have deep-fried the potatoes!
Philippe: These haven't been deep fried.
Gordon: They are wrinkled, dehydrated, and they've been in the deep-fat fryer.
Philippe: That's not dehydrated.
Gordon: You're talking to a chef, and for as long as I got a hole in my butt, big boy, those fucking potatoes have been in the deep-fat fryer. Don't fucking lie!
Philippe: I know what I did!
Gordon: You knew the oven's not hot enough to roast a potato! You can't even cook a FUCKING burger in there! They've been in the fryer! Tell the fucking truth!
Philippe: It went in the oven.
Gordon: Tell him the fucking truth. (voiceover) He's so adamant. I'm even starting to doubt my own judgement. Until I tracked down Alsamh. (to sous-chef Alsamh) How many trays of potatoes did you fry this morning?
Alsamh: I fried everything here.
Gordon: You fried all four?
Alsamh: Yes.
Gordon: Have he told you to fry them?
Alsamh: My chef?
Gordon: Your chef, yes. (to Philippe) Why did you deep-fry the potatoes?
Philippe: You've said it earlier. The oven is nowhere near hot enough.
Gordon: Right. Can we get back to basics now, and cut the fucking crap? (to Israel) Sorry. But I fucking hate liars.

Series ThreeEdit

Clubway 41 [2.03]Edit

Gordon: Have you cooked mussels before?
Dave: No.
Gordon: You're pulling my plonker now, aren't you? You've never cooked a mussel?
Dave: Alright, we can shout now or you can fucking out, I don't mind.
Gordon: What you mean I can out?
Dave: Hey?
Gordon: What did we do for the last...
Dave: Yeah, okay, fine. You're right. Sorry.
Gordon: What did we do for the last two hours?
Dave: Fine, so what do we want in here?
Gordon: I'm just amazed you haven't cooked a mussel.
Dave: I haven't! Don't take the piss out of me for it, though.
Gordon: Who's taking the piss?
Dave: You are!
Gordon: I don't think you can actually cook!
Dave: If you'd have fucking talked to me...
Gordon: If you can't cook a fucking mussel...
Dave: If you had fucking talked to me...
Gordon: Yes!
Dave: Y'err! Urgh!
Gordon: Go on!
Dave: Hey?
Gordon: Go on!
Dave: Urgh!
Gordon: Finish it, then.
Dave: Finish what?
Gordon: What are you about to say?
Dave: What am I about to say?
Gordon: Cook a mussel.
Dave: No! I haven't cooked one.
Gordon: Right. Okay. So shall I show you how to cook a mussel?
Dave: Oh, at last. Thank you. Yes, please.
Gordon: Are you going to tone your voice down, or are you going to shout like some dick?
Dave: I'll shout like some dick, and then I'll calm down.
Gordon: Right. Well, why don't you fuck off to the bookshop, read how to cook a mussel and come back and see me, and I'll run your fucking restaurant.
Dave: Thank you!
Gordon: Plonker.
Dave: Twat.
Gordon: Fucking hell, what's all that about? Jesus Christ! Well, at least, he broke the ice now, we know where we stand. (mocks Dave) Yeah?

Series FiveEdit

The Granary [5.08]Edit

Nigel: We've never had a night like this before!
Gordon: Why are you shouting?
Nigel: Why have you done this to us?!
Gordon: Why have I what?!
Nigel: Why did you do this to us? We've never had a night like this! Never, since we've open.
Gordon: Don't be so ridiculous, will you? Shit food, fucking red mullet frozen from Thailand, the fact that we're not performing, the service is all over the place, the customers are fucking complaining.
Nigel: 90 people without giving us any notice.
Gordon: There's still 50 that haven't even been fucking served. So what are you blaming me for this?

Gordon: You're a weak man.
Nigel: Oh, fuck off, Gordon! I'm not a weak man.
Gordon: Why don't you open your eyes, get your head out of your arse and try to look at your business objectively? (Outside) They clearly can't cook the existing menu, they're struggling. There's nearly 60 customers still on the board. They've barely cooked 25-30 main courses. And, all of a sudden, I'm to blame because they're busy and they're not handling it.

Gordon: When was the last time you've trained a waitress?
Nigel: I got to look after my customers. This is nonsense. Right? I've told him what happens. I told him what fucking happens.
Gordon: Talk to me!
Nigel: Why? Because you don't listen! I'm in denial! I do this all the time. This is how I run my fucking restaurant! It's not true!
Gordon: That's why you're in this shit, you fucking fat idiot!
Nigel: No, it's not! Don't call me fat, you are a twat! Do you know that?
Gordon: You stupid joke of an idiot! You're in denial!
Nigel: You stupid fucking silly-looking cunt!
Gordon: This is how you run your business?
Nigel: You're a fucking knob! Fuck off!
Gordon: Oh, you walk away now.
Nigel: Go and talk to the customers! Go and talk to the fucking regulars out there! See if they've never seen a service like this.
Gordon: And what are they going to say to me?
Nigel: Go and ask a regular!
Gordon: You are the best host in fucking Hampshire?
Nigel: Probably, some of them.
Gordon: Are you that fucking blind?

[During service, sous-chef Paul starts barking at Gordon]
Gordon: Can you shut up a minute? Yes?
Paul: You're not helping us, you're giving us all this!
Gordon: Sorry?
Paul: You're not helping us!
Gordon: Say that again?
Paul: Ah, fuck off!
Gordon: Did you just tell me to fuck off? Is that the thanks you get? Listen, let me just tell you something to your face. I know you think it's cocky and smart and fucking hard.
Paul: No, it's not that.
Gordon: Hey, I'm talking to Martin and you shout over me and you're saying all the way over here sulking. You've got a lot to learn. This is what happens when a kitchen's not committed. A chef who tells me that two hot stoves is too much. One fish cake to reheat, mushrooms on toast, and the chippy little cunt in the corner shouting his mouth off. You'd think someone would show a little bit more balls than that, wouldn't you?

Series SixEdit

Dovecote [6.01]Edit

[Gordon calls out Mick on the duck with orange sauce]
Gordon: So it's all about the duck?
Mo: Yeah, go on.
Gordon: What the fuck did you put in that sauce? It's like some fucking sci-fi sperm!
Mo: (gnarls) Sci-fi sperm!
Gordon: Yeah, Where's the orange juice? (Gets a bottle of orange squash) So it's an orange squash?
Mick: Yes.
Gordon: A concentrate?
Mick: All the reports from the people were, "Do we love the sauce?" And the lamb shanks.
Michelle: You've got to be so honest. I've never heard one complaint.
Gordon: As a restauranteur, or whatever you want to call yourself, your responsibility is to provide them with at least something fresh. And especially with 11 fucking quid.

Mo: (appealing) Help.
Gordon: Well, he's a stubborn fucker, this one.
Mo: I know, he's a stubborn fucker.
Michelle: You got that right.
Mo: I'd be the first to admit that. But we desperately, desperately need help from yourself. And I'm sorry, I'm going to be emotional.
Gordon: I don't want you to get upset.
Mo: (breaks into tears) I am! My husband's been slated to death, and we work so hard for this business, and it's just killing us all!

The Runaway Girl [6.02]Edit

[Gordon visits The Runaway Girl for the first time]
Gordon: What the fuck is that? Looks like a hair-dressing salon. Dreadful. Absolutely shocking. Spanish tapas bar? I mean, looks like a fucking lap-dancing hole.

Gordon: (voiceover) That stale slop is an embarrassment. It's time for head chef Richie and sous chef Jonil to face the Spanish Inquisition. (to Richie) Excellent. So you're the head chef?
Richie: Yes.
Gordon: (to Jonil) And you're the sous chef?
Jonil: Yes.
Gordon: Right. How can the fish in a stew be dry? When was that cooked, the fish? Because I can guarantee that wasn't cooked this morning. The duck was sweet as fuck. It was like a mouthful of sugar.
Richie: That's how it was supposed to be.
Gordon: Oh, fucking hell. That's not Spanish tapas.
Justin: We've never had a set of complaints about any particular dish.
Gordon: Right.
Justin: There's never one thing that have been sent back, and quite the contrary, we were having compliments.
Gordon: You shouldn't use your customers like a hair-dryer blowing smoke up your arse. All I want to know from my customers is the negatives. But, on the top of the fucking food, we can't eat inside a night-club. End of fucking story. Thank you.
Richie: (interview) When you walk in here, it does not look like a fucking restaurant. You know what I mean? Looks like a fucking strip-bar. I know this, yeah? But he's (Gordon) got to realise I can fucking cook.

[Gordon returns to The Runaway Girl on the second day]
Gordon: Titty bar. (enters the restaurant) What was the first thing you thought about this morning?
Justin: Well, I've done is, I've dug out 30 to 40 comments cards, and just taken them off the top of the pile. And all they're saying is, "Great food", "Great atmosphere", "Great food", "What will you change? Nothing", "What will you change? Nothing".
Gordon: I can't believe you, you know that? Your business is fucked. And you revert to stupid pretentious comment cards to pump smoke back up your arse first thing this morning to say "Food's good", "Atmosphere is good", "Music is good". When are you going to stop massaging yourself and fucking get real?
Justin: Okay. There's a bigger picture which is fucked. But this is...
Gordon: Fuck me.
Richie: Dude, this is what I'm talking about, kid. You've got to cut the fucking bullshit. When the damage has been done. We already looking like a couple of fucking tits. Yeah? You're already looking like a twat. Yeah? And this guy is too fucking clever for you. So shut your fucking mouth and fucking listen!
Justin: I can't-
Richie: If you do not turn it around today, 2 o'clock, I'm fucking off! I'm not staying here, Just! Cut the fucking crap to turn things around! He's there to fucking turn it around. You can do it without me, or you can fucking with me. Because I've had enough of this fucking charade! Because I don't need this fucking shit! And I got to stand next to him and show me fucking tubs of fucking shit! That's what I'm fucking cooking! You've fucking done so nothing!
Justin: So tell me where to go from here, Rich! Cause you're-
Richie: You're not fucking listening to him!
Justin: I'm al-
Richie: He's trying to fucking tell you! I tried to tell you for two years about everything! Food, bands, and I've told you that, but you don't fucking understand! So show him some fucking respect, or else I'm fucking going at two o'clock, and that is fucking it! And that is it! No fucking bullshit!
Justin: Okay.
Richie: Fucking dangle me like a fucking puppet! (to Gordon) Sorry.
Gordon: Get some fresh air.
Richie: So don't take a fucking piss at me anymore! Fuck this shit, bro.

Gordon: I've never seen such a fucked up service in all my fucking life.
[Justin brings back a couple of steaks]
Justin: This was asked for well done and they're sending it back.
Gordon: Well let me just tell you something, (slices the steak) in terms of well done, look, we braised it. What is it?
Justin: It's well done.
Gordon: That is well done so (slams the steak down) STOP BRINGING ME SHIT!!!
Justin: What about this Gordon?
Gordon: That is well done!
Justin: What about this?
Gordon: It's well done! We've braised it!
Justin: That is pink though.
Gordon: That's gristle you fucking idiot! What is that?
Richie: Gristle.
Gordon: Look, look it's white inside!
Justin: Thanks for telling.
Gordon: Oh my god! What a fucking Muppet!
Last modified on 20 February 2014, at 09:20