Hell's Kitchen

Himself - Head Chef:
*That's* how you make a risotto!

Himself - Head Chef:
Dirty bowl, dirty bowl!

Helen Lederer:
Why is Gordon so sexy? It's extraordinary, isn't it?

Himself - Presenter:
But Edwina had also beaten her own record by ruining Hell's Kitchen service before it had even begun. Up until not it would have taken half the evening, so progress of a sort.

Herself - Winner:
Your'e dish is a deer?

Herself - Team Leader:
Yeah, it's Bambi. Bambi in chocolate. Did you not know venis - did you not know venison was deer? I though...

Herself - Winner:
No.

[surprised]

Herself - Team Leader:
I though, I wondered if you did.

Himself - Runner Up:
It's just deer that were killed in an accident. A firearms accident. [as Gordon laughs]

Himself - Head Chef:
Kiss my biscuit.

Himself - Presenter:
And where do you stand on the Gordon Ramsay debate? Sex symbol or no?

Herself - Winner:
His job is to come up to... is ta... I don't really know. I think he just comes up now and again and then goes away. [speaking on what Jean Philippe's job is]

Himself - Head Chef:
Get me Jean-Pierre please. Jean Philippe - what ever his f***ing name is.

Himself - Presenter:
Their collective pecker was far from up. [speaking of the chefs' bad night of service]

Himself - Head Chef:
And put your hand on your sack and find your bollocks.

Jean Philippe Susilovic:
Yes, Gordon.

Himself - Presenter:
Well, Gordon couldn't remember if it were Jean Philippe or Jean-Pierre the other night, so he obviously decided to resort to a more memorable nick name, so congratulations to 'F*** face' for keeping his cool when told to move his Belgium little ass. Racism and sexual harassment all in one insult. Excellent work, Gordon.

Himself - Presenter:
Welcome back to Hell's Kithcne, the only place you'll see Abi Titmuss stiffining a peak without paying a subsciption fee.

Himself - Head Chef:
I'm not here sweating my f***ing bollocks off to cook some d*ckhead a fried egg!

Himself - Presenter:
now, as you know, Hell's Kitchen can number amongst its staff the world's msot unflappable man, Belgium, um, Ma?tre D' Jean Philippe; day after day we've seen him gaze placidly back as at Gordon as he faces a torrent of graphic anatomical advice, much of it frankly impossible and all of it illegal.

Himself - Presenter:
Ummm, I think he called them 'stick insects', 'limp d*cks', and 'asparagus beans', so he obviously liked them. [speaking of two thin models]

Herself - Contestant:
Few things I like about pastries is you can smack it. And it doesn't cry out or go to the human rights people. Can't do that with these children anymore. You can really slap it around.

Himself - Head Chef:
Edwina Currie is a woman, in my mind, who farts too high for her own a**hole.

Himself - Presenter:
Now, ah, viewers of last night's show are probably all asking the same question: Has Gordon Ramsay carried out his threat to chop Edwina's head off? Well, the answer is 'No', ah, for the moment, anyway, but she has continued her ascent of the upper regions of his nasal passage. Perhaps she likes the precarious thrill of it, perhaps she has a death wish, perhaps she doesn't like him at all. Ah, what ever the reason, yesterday's roll call it wasn't long before the two of them were squaring up again.

Himself - Presenter:
Now, to say that Edwina can on occassion be irritating to her fellow chefs, would be like saying Napalm can occasionally make you itchy.