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The first one.

[lover] Mmm.

And the second one.

They're the same.

- Absolutely not. Mmm. - Mmm. Yes, they are.

Both whipped cream, of course.

- Yeah, I know. - But...

[both] But...

This one's made with icing sugar.

- That one? - With normal sugar.

- It's the same. - No.

[chuckles]

[moans]

- [man] Antonin! - Antonin.

Oop.

- I'm cooking! - Hello, Henriette.

- Hello. - [both chuckle]

I'm afraid I must borrow my son.

Sure, you can have him back.

[father] We're gonna have a busy night.

I'm expecting a group of Bonaparte's soldiers for dinner.

- [Henriette chuckles] - I'd murder the lot of 'em if I could.

Should I poison them?

Good idea for France. Not so good for business.

[all chuckle]

[father] Up, Antonin! Time for work!

[cook] Service!

Careful! Coming through!

They want more wine.

Let 'em drink their piss.

- [Antonin sighs] - Hey! There a problem?

It's overcooked. It's obvious. If you don't see it, get out.

Go back to your cakes and let me do my job.

Nobody's going anywhere.

Nobody expects perfection, and especially not them.

- You taught me about high standards. - And I mentioned patience as well.

You know I can roast much better than him.

[father] Calm down, Antonin.

[soldiers clamoring]

You hear 'em?

[clamoring, whistling]

They support a coward who shoots his own people.

These men wouldn't know the difference between sole and ham.

Go make the babas au rhum.

[Antonin] To choke them?

[father] Still not very good for business.

- It's still a good idea. - [father] Anton...

Do you have ice?

[Antonin] Cloth!

Take it.

[man choking]

- [man coughing] - [woman crying]

[crying]

Help him, please. It's...

It's Bonaparte!

- [bodyguard shushes] - [woman] Please help him.

- [coughing] - [woman] Oh!

- [coughing continues] - [woman] I'm sorry.

Turn him over.

- [Bonaparte breathing heavily] - [woman] Thank you.

What is it?

Crushed linden and hawthorn.

Hawthorn dilates blood vessels.

And linden soothes the nerves.

- Are you a doctor? - Just a cook.

But I know my herbs.

- Do it again in two hours. - Thank you.

What's your name, young cook?

Carême.

Marie-Antoine.

You know we'll expect your total discretion...

Carême?

[scoffs]

No, thanks.

[soldiers clamoring in distance]

- [soldier] First Consul Bonaparte! - [man] Who do you think?

[Carême] Attention!

This is your First Consul speaking to you!

Come on, piggy. Say hi.

- Here's my pretty little pig. - [grunting]

- [soldier 2] Grab him! - [Carême shouts]

[grunts, shouts]

[yells]

[yells]

[screaming]

[cackling]

[whistles]

[people chattering]

What do you think?

Honestly? It won't be easy to sell.

Then we'll just keep it.

I don't think you understand the principles of business.

On the contrary.

It catches the eye.

That will draw customers in.

Don't forget it's taste that catches customers, not good looks.

[chuckles] Ah, I'm afraid you're wrong.

There are five forms of fine art:

Painting, sculpture, poetry, music...

and...

architecture.

And the most noble form is pastry.

Dad, you should know this by now.

Ah.

Carême Marie-Antoine.

The First Consul Bonaparte

chose you to work at the Tuileries Palace.

Follow me.

Thanks.

But no, thanks.

Pardon?

I decline your offer.

My place is here.

But perhaps you could offer this

as a sign of my utmost gratitude to your boss.

Are you sure?

I'm absolutely sure.

Have a nice day, sir.

And what was that?

Well, last night...

I saved Bonaparte's life.

I don't know what came over me. Should have let him die.

Accept the offer. It's the chance of a lifetime.

- I don't belong there. - It's exactly where you belong, my boy.

Listen to me.

Only those who've never gone hungry may appreciate your cooking.

The hungry will never be able to afford it.

You want me to work for the bastard who killed your daughter?

I want you to become a great cook.

If that means going to Tuileries, then go.

No.

Accept it.

You know me. Inconceivable.

[door closes]

[sighs]

- You want some? - Mmm.

Too strong.

So what do you put in there?

Alcohol, saffron, some opium.

Mmm. I bet you drink that stuff every day.

What's it for?

It calms the pain.

No regrets for Tuileries?

Of course not.

None.

What'll you do with your life?

Become the best.

Make them all come from my cooking.

- Well, aren't we pretentious! - Me?

[Henriette laughs]

[Henriette chuckles]

Come on, faster, everyone!

We've got work to do! Come on!

[workers clamoring]

Shake it up! Let's go!

It's perfect.

It's not perfect. There's too much air.

[captain] Monsieur Bailly?

Come with me.

- What's going on? - You're under arrest.

Hey, hey, hey!

- Let him go! - [groans]

- Calm down! - [soldier] You wanna join him, boy?

[cookware clatters]

Try me.

Drop it, Antonin.

Go to the Hôtel de Galliffet and ask for Talleyrand.

Tell the doorman it's about me. He'll let you in.

Go.

Move it!

[pants]

- It's your turn. - Hmm.

[woman] Hmm.

You're in a bad spot here, my dear Catherine.

You've most likely learned, my son, that empty vessels make the most noise.

Those pearls for your pretty earrings, Germaine.

Do it.

[glass clanks]

[man chuckles]

You have a visitor, Monsieur.

If you would excuse me.

I have matters to attend to.

Your turn, Charles.

I'm listening.

I need your help.

It's about Sylvain Bailly.

You're his adoptive son? Hmm?

The one who makes the best vanilla éclairs in Paris?

You see, I know many things, young man.

And you?

What do you know about me?

Everybody knows who you are.

And what does everybody know?

That you're a... a noble,

a politician,

a priest.

What else?

Hmm?

That you became a clergyman because you couldn't join the military.

And once ordained bishop,

you voted to sell the Church's possessions to please the revolutionaries.

I simply let myself flow with the tide of changing events.

That later as minister in the directory,

you planned a coup against that very same directory.

And now you seek a position within the Consulate.

People say you're a traitor.

You point here and there.

Like a weather vane.

You have a rather personal way of asking for help.

But tell me, young man,

is it the weather vane that turns,

or is it the wind?

Hmm?

[chuckles]

If you know so much about me,

then you know that an audience with me requires payment.

[grunts]

Monsieur, Sylvain Bailly wanted me to give you a message.

He's in custody.

- On what charge? - I'd like to know too.

But I know he's innocent.

Innocent people don't need my help.

Usually.

- [sighs] - It may be my fault.

I declined a position at Tuileries, with Bonaparte.

Hmm.

Taste this.

Hmm?

You're probably right. It's most likely your fault.

I refuse to work for him.

You should do what you're told.

I will make inquiries about Bailly.

Accept Bonaparte's offer.

So, what's your verdict?

The puff.

Cream shouldn't ooze out of the puff.

This needs finer dough and thicker cream.

That's not from Bailly.

TUILERIES PALACE

[clamoring]

Laguipierre! The new guy.

Monsieur Laguipierre, it's an honor, sir.

Do you wanna suck my cock or do you wanna cook?

Uh... I wanna cook.

[Laguipierre] Mmm? Yes?

Follow me, in that case.

I have a job for you.

I've been told you wanna become a cook?

Add the tomatoes to the chicken.

Chicken Marengo?

Yesterday?

Chicken Marengo.

So, kid, do you still enjoy cooking? Hmm?

May I ask you a question?

Yes, you may.

With all of this, why don't you try something more elaborate?

You're right, kid.

Why don't I make something more elaborate?

- Agathe! - Hmm?

Teach the new guy how to chop an onion.

Preferably faster.

[cook] He bakes cakes, boss. It's not his fault.

Wondering what a woman's doing in here?

When I see you, I'm wondering what they're doing here.

[Agathe chuckles]

Here.

Don't worry. You'll learn fast.

[chuckles]

[Laguipierre] It's time!

Come on, you bitches!

Move your ass!

Move it now!

Get your shit together!

Aren't you going to decorate them before?

[laughs]

What are you waiting for? It won't stir itself.

Dumb bastard!

Come on, move it! Faster!

[sighs]

[sniffs] That's it.

What are you doing?

- Trying a new dish. - The First Consul doesn't like change.

- [grunts] - [worker] But Joséphine does.

And she's hungry.

Laguipierre's with his whores.

And him? He's a cook, isn't he?

Yeah.

Well, get started. She's hungry.

- [panting] - [bed squeaking]

- Wait there. - [panting continues]

Put that down.

They won't be long.

[moaning, panting]

So, what's the dish?

Uh...

Do you wanna taste?

[panting, moaning continues]

And what do you call this?

"Cloud Nine."

[moaning intensifies]

[sighs]

It's time for you to leave.

- Thank you. - Yeah.

[clears throat]

I believe those earrings suit you well.

- Really? - Hmm.

I find them a little ostentatious.

They remind me of Germaine de Staël.

[chuckles]

How was your audience with the First Consul Bonaparte?

Has he finally appointed you minister of foreign relations?

Not for the moment.

He refused?

Well, I reminded him that bad things tend to happen

when a government won't put my talents to use.

- In vain. - Yet he knows that he needs you.

Bonaparte needs no one, my dear.

I told him that France must make peace with the British,

and that this peace would bolster his legacy for centuries,

would make all his victories glorious, historical, and so on and so forth.

So, pride.

The only thing that men follow more than their cock.

- [chuckles] - And?

He wants the Brits to give up Malta and Egypt.

So, he doesn't want peace.

All these years of traveling the globe

have made you an expert in geopolitics.

You noticed?

What will you do?

Tomorrow, the British ambassador arrives for an official state lunch.

Apparently he loves desserts.

- He has a sweet tooth, as they say. - At Tuileries?

Their food is barely fit for troops, with that peasant Laguipierre.

That's exactly what I was thinking. The food is terrible.

Come warm me up.

- Come with me. - Get lost.

[clock ticking]

[Carême] Any news about my father?

He's still alive.

For the moment.

You said that you knew everything that happens in France.

The man that knows everything is the minister of police, Monsieur Fouché.

And the man hates me.

We can't expect anything from him.

However, if I become the minister of foreign relations,

my position shall be more favorable.

What's your plan?

I must make peace with the British.

You'll help me with this.

- Me? - Mm-hmm.

All men are ruled by two emotions.

Not one, not five, nor ten. Two.

Fear...

and pleasure.

Pleasure is not born in here.

[clicks tongue]

But down there.

Or here. Mmm.

Cooking is very similar to seducing.

I do believe you already know this.

I need a dessert that will move a sweet-tooth gourmet to tears.

For this lunch,

you shall be the head pastry chef of France.

It's such a beautiful evening. Why not stay a while?

You have carte blanche.

Surprise me.

Okay!

It looks like our dear Laguipierre has had a rough night.

It's not the first time, so listen up, everyone.

Orders from above. Carême is to take charge of the pastry team.

You will follow his lead,

so if he wants you barking on all fours,

I don't want to see anyone standing.

Everyone else, follow me. 25 braised lamb chops on the menu.

- So let's get going, move it! - [clamoring]

[cook] Let's go! Come on! Bunch up! Move it!

You'll manage.

My dear Lord Jenkinson! Welcome to Tuileries.

Please, follow me.

For a long time, the king himself lived here.

- However, times have now changed. - Mm-hmm.

[Carême] Now! I need them now! Hurry!

That's it.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

No, not like that.

That's what I want.

I want 100 like that. Very good.

[cook] I need more charcoal for those ovens.

Agathe!

Choose.

Which one?

The one with icing sugar.

More elegant.

[guests chattering and laughing]

[Jenkinson] Have you tried the red one?

[Jenkinson] It's delicious. We should bring some back.

- Your Excellency. - Yes?

Do you know the difference between France and England?

No. Tell me.

In England, you have two sauces and 300 religions,

whereas France only boasts two religions and more than 300 sauces.

[all laughing]

[Talleyrand] Do you agree, Joséphine?

[Jenkinson] You have discovered our secret, my dear Prince.

I didn't know he was that funny.

[whispering]

Cheers, my dear.

[Jenkinson chuckles]

[Carême] So?

What do you think?

Simply amazing.

- Who taught you to do that? - My father.

He calls it "L'Extraordinaire."

He must be proud of you.

The First Consul wants the pyramid for dessert.

The pyramid?

The same one as before.

It's impossible.

A pyramid symbolizes war between Egypt and the British Empire.

I have something better.

See that? An homage to the ambassador.

- He'll love it. - You listen, boy. He wants the pyramid.

He'll have the ship.

No, no, no!

What do you need?

I can't make the pyramid.

You can, I'm sure. I've seen you work.

It's not the time to scribble or doodle.

Antonin.

Find me some nougat wafer paper.

Boil 9 kilos of sugar in 3 liters of water.

We bake blocks of genoise, assemble them, carve out a hollow,

and add a coulis of caramel.

Got it.

Okay, everyone, listen up! We need all nougat wafer paper we can find!

And boil three pots of water! Let's go!

Faster, everyone! We got this!

[guests gasping]

What is this? What is it?

An insult?

Provocation?

[clamoring, shrieking]

[gasping, chuckling]

This is where war leads us, Your Excellency.

[chuckles]

Your Excellency, if you would do me the honor.

Congratulations.

To reconciliation.

Where is our hero?

With age, you grow a thick skin.

You'll see.

For better and for worse.

Come. Let's talk.

You can be proud of yourself.

You've avoided a diplomatic incident.

Bonaparte will still not heed my advice.

He doesn't want peace.

Who knows where he'll want to do battle next.

I'm in need of an itinerary.

The First Consul is going to the opera in five days.

Naturally, his itinerary is top secret.

But there is a way.

There should be a map in his bedroom.

I need it.

You hate him that much?

It's not personal. My only concern is for France.

Bring me that itinerary.

Me?

Do what I ask of you, and you will see your father.

[exhales]

How do I get into Bonaparte's bedroom?

Improvise!

It's also Joséphine's bedroom.

[knocks on door]

Who is it?

[Carême] It's Carême. The cook.

Come in. What do you want?

To cook.

For the First Lady.

- You already did. - Not for her alone.

In her room. Without Bonaparte.

And why?

Because she likes how I cook. But he doesn't.

You know there is a cost

if you want to get close to madame?

She'll appreciate it.

Prove it to me.

[moans, breathes heavily]

Come closer. I don't bite.

Usually.

So, what do you think of my ingredients?

Simple, ma'am, but sophisticated.

I appreciate simplicity.

As one should.

Simplicity requires superior skill.

One moment.

Please.

You deserve better.

Try this cocktail.

For starters.

It's considered bad manners to have a lady drink alone.

May I ask you a question?

How long have you been trying?

I know these are aphrodisiacs,

but they're also for fertility, no?

They say it's a new era.

Mine has already passed.

Time is a guillotine to me.

You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

[chuckles]

That's always nice to hear.

Unfortunately, my beauty won't save me.

That will be something else.

May I ask you another question?

Do you mind closing your eyes for me?

[chuckling]

[chuckles] What are you doing?

A cook never reveals his secrets.

[chuckles]

Hmm.

My husband likes efficiency.

He hates wasting time.

- Mm-hmm. - [Joséphine chuckles]

He does everything as fast as possible.

I know. I've seen how he eats.

- No pleasure. - Hmm.

It's a pity.

[Joséphine breathes heavily]

[Joséphine sighs]

MAP OF THE ROYAL PALACE DISTRICT

[squawks]

[muttering]

Saint-Nicaise Street...

[panting]

Marseille soap! Made from pure olive oil!

[customer] One kilo, okay?

[horse neighs]

Right!

[panting]

- Let me in! - His Excellency cannot be disturbed.

We'll see about that!

Stop!

What are you doing here? You work for him?

- Antonin, you're bleeding. - You work for him, is that it?

I saw Bonaparte's carriage turn just before the attack.

He knew.

They were warned.

Who did it?

- I don't wanna know. - You don't wanna know?

People are dead on the streets, Henriette.

There are dozens of people dead!

What is it?

Talleyrand warned him?

To gain his trust.

[breathing shakily] Antonin, you should go.

Don't get involved.

- I'm in a hurry, please. - [driver] Yes, sir.

[Talleyrand grunts]

- What the hell? - Don't move, Monsieur.

I want you to work for me.

Help me put Bonaparte on the throne,

and I'll whisper in his ear to pardon your father.

- What throne? - [groans]

It's madness. There's no more king.

He was guillotined eight years ago.

Precisely.

Anything is possible now.

Anything.

You have a gift.

Don't waste it.

Look at what we achieved with one meal. Huh?

And if Fouché discovers you're linked to the attack, you'll be executed.

So, do we have an agreement?

Hmm?

- Stop the carriage! - [driver] Yes, sir.

You shouldn't stay here, Monsieur Fouché.

It might still be dangerous.

Subtitling: DUBBING BROTHERS

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