Adam Jones: [to Helene] Apologize to the turbot 'cause it died in vain. I said apologize!
Michel: [to Adam] When are you gonna do something about Medusa out there? You're pushing her too hard. If you're not careful, she's gonna end up like you. And we can't have a kitchen with two of you in it.
Adam Jones: You know, people pay prostitutes extra to fake orgasms. Maybe Tony pays you extra to fake concern.
Dr Rosshilde: In my experience, people who come in here and make silly comments are generally frightened of what they might reveal if they really took the time to be themselves.
Adam Jones: Oh, I've been myself since the '90s.
Reece: I heard an idiotic rumor. You're going for third star.
Adam Jones: I heard an idiotic rumor that you've *gotten* yours. Then I found out it's true.
Reece: That must have hurt.
Adam Jones: Eh, I was on heavy painkillers at the time.
Reece: Doomed youth is romantic. Doomed middle age really isn't.
Adam Jones: Hey, pretend that you're my *girlfriend*, okay? If Reece knows who you are, he'll steal you away.
Helene: If I was your girlfriend, you'd probably hold my arm.
Adam Jones: No, if you were my girlfriend, we would've gotten in an argument in the taxi. We wouldn't even be talking.
Adam Jones: Closed down any, uh, good restaurants lately?
Simone Forth: I don't close good restaurants, my reviews close bad ones.
[Adam has been jumped upon by the French mafia]
Helene: No, you're not *cooking*, Adam. We can handle it, alright. Just tell me quickly, do you want me to baste them in butter?
Adam Jones: *Slowly*. And then peel and emulsify.
Tony: Jesus, you're as bad as he is.
