Can I interest you in a dessert this evening?
Don't you always?
Which one would you like?
Horst
Will Arnett · 43 quotes
Linguini
Lou Romano · 28 quotes
Rémy
26 quotes
Colette
Janeane Garofalo · 18 quotes
Django
Brian Dennehy · 14 quotes
Gusteau
Brad Garrett · 14 quotes
Anton Ego
Peter O'Toole · 10 quotes
Émile
7 quotes
Emile
Peter Sohn · 6 quotes
Remy
Patton Oswalt · 5 quotes
Mustafa
John Ratzenberger · 3 quotes
Dedication
1 quote
Most scenes together: Rémy & Horst (17), Linguini & Horst (16), Colette & Horst (10)
Ratatouille quotes
Page 2 of 7Listen, I just want you to know how honored I am to be studying under such a--
[suddenly pins Linguini's sleeve to the cutting board with a knife]
No, you listen! I just want you'to know exactly who you are dealing with! How many women do you see in this kitchen?
Well, I uh--
[Sticks a second knife to his sleeve]
Only me. Why do you think that is? Because haute cuisine is an antiquated hierarchy built upon rules written by stupid, old men. Rules designed to make it impossible for women to enter this world, but still I'm here. How did this happen?
Well because you, because you--
[Sticks a third knife to his sleeve]
Because I am the toughest cook in this kitchen! I have worked too hard for too long to get here, and I am not going to jeopardize it for some garbage boy who got lucky! Got it?
[Colette removes the knives pinning Linguini's arm down, causing him to fall to the ground] [Gets up, laughs hysterically]
Wow!
When I added that extra ingredient instead of following the recipe like you said, that wasn't me...either.
What do you mean?
I mean, I wouldn't have done that. I would've followed the recipe, I would've followed your advice. I would've followed your advice 'til the ends of the Earth because I love your-r-r-r advice. But--
R?my
[In Linguini's toque, to self]
Don't do it...
You have a rash?
No, no, no. I have this-this tiny, uh, little, little--[rapidly] a-tiny-chef-who-tells-me-what-to-do.
You're Anton Ego.
You're slow for someone in the fast lane.
And you're thin for someone who likes food!
I don't like food, I love it. If I don't love it, I don't swallow.
Do you know what you would like this evening, sir?
Yes, I think I do. After hearing a lot of over-heated puffery about your new cook, do you know what I'm craving? A little... perspective. That's it. I'd like some fresh, clear, well-seasoned perspective. Can you suggest a good wine to go with that?
With what, sir?
Perspective, fresh out, I take it?
[Mustafa is confused and stays silent]
Very well. Since you are all out of perspective and no one else seems to have it in this bloody town, I'll make you a deal: you provide the food, I'll provide the perspective, which would go nicely with a bottle of Cheval Blanc 1947.
I'm afraid...um...your dinner selection?
[bursts out of his chair and gets right in Mustafa's face]
Tell your chef, Linguini, that I want whatever what he dares to serve me! Tell him to hit me with his best shot!
Someone has asked what is new!
New?
Yes! What do I tell them?
Well, what did you tell them?
I told them I would ask!
What are you blathering about?
Customers are asking what is new! What should I tell them?
What did you tell them?
I told them I would ask!
R?my
[Describing the time after Ego gave his review]
It was a great night. The happiest night of my life. But the only thing predictable about life is its unpredictability. [A sign saying "CLOSED" is placed on the front door of Gusteau's] Well, we had to let Skinner and the health inspector loose, and of course they ratted us out. The food didn't matter. Once it got out there were rats in the kitchen, oh, man, the restaurant was closed, and Ego lost his job and his credibility. But don't feel too bad for him. He's doing very well as a small business investor. He seems very happy.
Rat
How do you know? [R?my pulls back the leaves behind them to reveal the rats are in the attic of a restaurant. Ego is sitting beneath them, happily toasting his fellow customers. There is a dinging sound, and R?my turns to see Colette in the kitchen, gesturing at him]
R?my
Oh, gotta go. Dinner rush.
R?my
Dad, I...I don't know what to say.
I was wrong about your friend, about you.
R?my
I don't want you to think I'm choosing this over family. I can't choose between two halves of myself.
I'm not talkin' about cooking. I'm talkin' about guts.
R?my
He's your son?!
I have a son?!
R?my
How could you not know?!
I-I am a figment of your imagination! You did not know, how could I?
R?my
Hey I brought you something to--[sees Émile eating garbage] Ah! No, no, no, no! Spit that out right now! [he does] I have got to teach you about food. Close your eyes. [Émile obeys, R?my hands him piece of cheese] Now take a bite of thi...[Émile snarfs it] No, no, no! Don't just hork it down!
Too late.
R?my
What are you eating?
[looks at what he's eating as if for the first time]
I don't really know. I think it was some sort of wrapper once.
[on top of a window at the restaurant looking down into the kitchen]
I can't believe it. A real gourmet kitchen, and I get to watch!
You've have read my book. Let us see how much you know, huh? Which one is the chef?
Oh! Uh... Oh, that guy. [pointing to Skinner]
Very good. Who is next in command?
The Sous-Chef... [pointing to Horst] There. The sous is responsible for the kitchen when the chef's not around. [pointing to Lalo] Saucier, in charge of sauces. Very important. [pointing to Larousse and Pompidou] Chef De Partie, Demi Chef De Partie, both important. [pointing to Colette and another cook] Commis, Commis, they're cooks. Very important.
Ah, you are a clever rat. Now, who is that? [points to Linguini, clumsily cleaning up the kitchen]
Oh, him? He's nobody.
Not nobody. He is part of the kitchen.
No, he's a Plongeur or something. He washes dishes or takes out the garbage. He doesn't cook.
But he could!
How do you know? What do I always say, Remy? Anyone can cook.
Well yeah, anyone can. That doesn't mean that anyone should.
Well, that is not stopping him. See?
[Linguini has accidentally spilled a pot of soup and is attempting to cover up his mistake by throwing random ingredients into it]
What?! What is he doing?! No. No! No, this is terrible! He... He's ruining the soup! And-And nobody's noticing it?! [to Gusteau] It's your restaurant! Do something!
What can I do? I am a figment of your imagination.
But he is ruining the soup!!! We have got to tell someone that he's the- [slips from the window and falls into the kitchen]
It's locked. Hmm.
Remy, what are you doing in here?
[harassed]
Emile shows up...I said not to... He goes and blabs - it's a disaster! Anyway, they're hungry, that food safe is locked, and I need the key.
They want you to steal food?
Yes. No...it's complicated! It's family. They don't have your–– ideals! [The cardboard Gusteaus start speaking]
Gusteau's Barbecue Spare-Ribs: Ideals? Hah! If Chef Fancy Pants had any ideals, you think I'd be hawkin' barbecue over here?!
Gusteau's Microwave Burritos: Or microwave burritos?
Gusteau's Tooth-Pickin' Chicken: Or tooth, I say, Tooth-pickin' Chicken? S'about as French as a Corn Dog!
Gusteau's Corn Puppies: Roof! Rumming roon!
Gusteau's Barbecue Spare-Ribs: Ha! We're inventin' new ways to sell out over here!
Gusteau's Haggis Bites: Will ye be wantin' some Haggis Bites, then?
I cannot control how they use my image Remy! I am dead!
Can you guys SHUT UP?! [the cutouts then stop talking] I've got to think! Word's getting out if I can't keep them quiet. The entire clan's going to be after me with their mouths open and... [finds the key and spots his will] Here it is. Hey. Your will! Oh, this is interesting. Mind if I...?
Not at all.
[upon seeing Linguini's name in Gusteau's file]
Linguini? Why would Linguini be filed with your will?
This used to be my office. [Remy reads Gusteau's will and the letter Linguini's mother wrote.]
How could you not know this?!
I am a figment of your imagination! You did not know, how could I?!
Well, your son is the rightful owner of this restaurant!!
[enters the room; spots Remy; gasps]
No! No! The rat! [Remy grabs the papers and runs off. Skinner dashes outside to catch him, only to bump into Lalo riding a motor scooter] NOOOOOOOO--!!!
Lalo Sorry, Chef!
The rat! It's stolen my documents! It's getting away! [pushes Lalo off the scooter, and drives off to find Remy]
No, I'm the one in a cage. I've giving up. You are free.
I am only as free as you imagine me to be. As you are.
Oh, please I'm sick of pretending. I pretend to be a rat for my father, I pretend to be a human through Linguini, I pretend you exist so I have some much to talk to! You only tell me stuff I already know! I know who I am! Why do I need you to tell me?! Why do I need to pretend?!
[Git pushes a statue off the building, smashing open the trunk of Skinner's car] [to Git]
No. My other left!
[inside Skinner's trunk, mumbling]
Dad? Dad, I'm in here! [Git pushes another statue off the building] I'm inside the trunk! [it falls and lands onto Skinner's trunk] What the... Dad?
Hey, Little Brother!
Emile! [Django and Emile release him from Skinner's cage; affectionately] I love you guys! [runs toward the restaurant]
Where are you going?!
Back to the restaurant! They'll fail without me!
Why do you care?!
BECAUSE I'M A COOK!!!
I knew it!
It's my... Second, third, fourth... Fifth time. Monday was my first time. But I've been taking out the garbage lots of time before that…
Yes, yes. Have some more wine. Tell me, Linguini about your interests. Do you like animals?
What? Animals? What kind?
Oh, the usual, dogs, cats, horses, guinea pigs, rats.
[comes out with scraps of gourmet food]
I brought you something to -- [sees Emile eating the garbage] AGH!!!!! NO, NO, NO, NO, NO! SPIT THAT OUT RIGHT NOW!
[Emile shamefully spits out the garbage; Remy sighs]
I have got to teach you about food. Close your eyes. [Emile does; hands him some cheese] Now, take a bite of thi -- [Emile inhales it] NO! NO, NO! Don't just hork it down!
Too late. [swallows]
Here. [hands him another piece] Ah, chew it slowly... Only think about the taste.
[Emile tastes the cheese slowly; everything behind him fades to black as a faint yellow-grey visualization appears along with a low bass melody]
See?
Not really.
Creamy, salty sweet... an oaky nuttiness... You detect that?
Oh, I'm detecting nuttiness.
Close your eyes. [hands Emile half a grape] Now taste this.
[Emile tastes the grape; light violet visualizations appear to a vibraphone melody]
Whole different thing, right? Sweet, crisp, slight tang on the finish?
Okay...
Now, try them together.
[Emile tastes them both at once; both melodies slowly begin to merge and get progressively louder as the visualizations grow and change shape little by little] Emile Okay... I think I'm gettin' a little something there...
Uh-huh?
It might be the nuttiness...
See?
Could be the tang...
That's it! Now, imagine every great taste in the world being combined into infinite combinations, and tastes that no one has tried yet! Discoveries to be made!
I think...
Uh-huh?!
You've lost me again.
But that was interesting. Most interesting garbage I ever-- HEY! What are we doing?! Dad doesn't know you are alive yet! We've got to go to the colony! Everyone will be thrilled!
Yeah! But…
What?
The thing is, I kind of have too…
What do you have to more than family? What's more important here?
Well, I… It wouldn't hurt to visit.
Have you ever had a pet rat?
No.
Did you work in a lab with rats?
No.
Perhaps you lived in squalor at some point!
Nopety nopety no.
You know something about rats! You know you do!
You know who know do whacka-doo. Ratta-tatta. Hey! Why do they call it that?
What?
Ratatouille. It's like a stew, right? Why do they call it that? You’re gonna name a food, you should give it a name that sounds delicious. Ratatouille Doesn’t sound delicious, it sounds like rat and patootie, Ratpatootie, which does not sound delicious. [sharing more wine]
Regrettably, [drops the wine on the trash can] we are all out of wine.
My son has returned. [Rats cheering] And finding someone to replace you for poison checker has been a disaster. Nothing's been poisoned, thank gosh, but it hasn't been easy. You didn't make it easy.
I know. I am sorry, Dad.
Well, the important thing is that you're home.
Yeah, well, about that…
You look thin. Why is that? A shortage of food, or a surplus of snobbery?