Ratatouille Quotes

Skinner: [on Linguini] Look at him out there, pretending to be an idiot! He's toying with my mind like a cat with a ball... of something!
Lawyer: String?
Skinner: Yes! Playing dumb, taunting me with that RAT!
Lawyer: [confused] Rat?
Skinner: Yes! He's consorting with it, deliberately

trying to make me think it's important!
Lawyer: The... rat?
Skinner: EXACTLY!
Lawyer: Is the rat important?
Skinner: [pause] Of course not! He just wants me to THINK that it is! O-ho, I see the theatricality of it! A rat appears on the boy's first night, I order him to kill it, and now he wants me to

see it everywhere!
Skinner: [high voice] Ooooh! It's here! No it isn't it's here! Am I seeing things, am I crazy, is there a phantom rat or is there not, but oh, no! I refuse to be sucked into his little game... of...
Lawyer: Should I be concerned about this? About you?

Anton Ego: [running his finger through leftover sauce and licking it] I can't remember the last time I asked to give my compliments to the chef. And now I find myself in the extraordinary position of having my waiter *be* the chef!
Linguini: Thanks, but... I'm just your waiter tonight.
Anton Ego: Then who do I thank for the meal?

Linguini: Uh... excuse me a moment?
[he skates into the kitchen; he and Colette have a brief, muffled, heated argument; Colette and Linguini both come out]
Anton Ego: [to Colette] You must be the chef...
Colette: [cutting him off] If you wish to meet the chef, you will have to wait, until all the other customer have gone.

Anton Ego: [settling back to wait] So be it.

Colette: [to Linguini] How do you tell how good bread is without tasting it? Not the smell, not the look, but the *sound* of the crust. Listen.
[she presses the bread between her hands]
Colette: Oh, symphony of crackle. Only great bread sound this way.
[cut]
Colette: The only way to get the best produce is to have first

pick of the day, and there are only two way to get first pick. Grow it yourself, or bribe a grower. Voilà! The best restaurant get first pick.
[cut]
Colette: People think haute cuisine is snooty. So chef must also be snooty. But not so. Lalo there? Ran away from home at twelve. Got hired by circus people as an acrobat. And then, he get fired for messing around with

the ringmaster's daughter.

Linguini: When I added that extra ingredient instead of following the recipe like you said, that wasn't me... either.
Colette: What do you mean?
Linguini: 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 to the ends of the Earth because I love you...

r advice. But...
Remy: [whispering desperately] Don't do it...
Linguini: [hesitantly] I have a secret. It's sort of disturbing. I have a ra... I have a raaaaa...
Colette: You have a... rash?
Linguini: No no no. I have this-this tiny, uh, little... little...
[quickly]

Linguini: a tiny chef who tells me what to do.

Gusteau: [as Remy is about to steal a piece of bread] What are you doing?
Remy: [groans] I'm hungry! I don't know where I am and I don't know when I'll find food again...
Gusteau: Remy, you are better than that. You are a cook! A cook makes! A thief takes. You are not a thief.
Remy: [wistfully] But I *am*

hungry.
Gusteau: [chuckles] Food will come, Remy. Food always comes to those who love to cook.
[disappears]

Skinner: [seeing a ladle in Linguini's hand] You are COOKING? How DARE you cook in MY kitchen! Where do get the gall to attempt something so monumentally idiotic? I should have you drawn and quartered! I'll do it! I think the law is on my side! Larousse, draw and quarter this man! *After* you put him in the duck press to squeeze the fat out of his head!
[as he's shouting,

Lalo ladles some soup into a tureen and brings it to the waiter]
Linguini: Oh no no no, OH NO, don't let them, don't eat...
Skinner: What are you blathering about?
Linguini: ...the soup!
Skinner: [sees the soup going out runs to stop it] Soup? Stop that soup! Noooooooo!
[bursts into the dining

room to the stares of the diners, retreats back into the kitchen and watches through the window as the waiter serves the soup]
Solene LeClaire: [tasting the soup] Waiter!
Skinner: [gasps] Linguini! You're fired! F-I-R-E-D! Fired!
Mustafa: She wants to see the chef.
Mustafa: [scared] B-but he...
[clears his throat

and goes to speak to the customer; Colette tastes the soup; Skinner re-enters]
Colette: What did the customer say?
Mustafa: It was not a customer. It was a critic.
Colette: Ego?
Skinner: Solene LeClaire.
Colette: LeClaire. What did she say?
Mustafa: She

likes the soup.

Gusteau: [on the TV] How can I describe it? Good food is like music you can taste, color you can smell. There is excellence all around you. You need only to be aware to stop and savor it.
[Remy tastes food accompanied by synesthetic visions of color and music]
Remy: Oh, Gusteau was right. Oh, mmm, yeah. Each flavor was totally unique. But, combine

one flavor with another, and something new was created!

Django: [the clan is eating clean garbage thanks to Remy's gift] Now don't you feel better, Remy? Eh? You've helped a noble cause.
Remy: Noble? We, we're thieves, Dad, and what we're stealing is - let's face it - garbage!
Django: It isn't stealing if no one wants it.
Remy: If no one wants it, why are we

*stealing* it?
Remy: [voiceover] Let's just say we have different points of view.

Skinner: Toasting your success, eh, Linguini? Good for you.
Linguini: [indicating his wine glass] Oh, I just took it to be polite. I don't really drink, you know.
Skinner: Oh, of course you don't. I wouldn't either if I was drinking *that*. But you would have to be an idiot of elephantine proportions not to appreciate this '61

Château Latour, and you, Monsieur Linguini, are no idiot. Let us toast your non-idiocy!

Larousse: Hey, boss, look who it is! Alfredo Linguini! Renata's little boy! All grown up, eh? You remember Renata. Gusteau's old flame?
Skinner: Ah, yes. How are you, uh...
Larousse: Linguini.
Skinner: Yes, Linguini, so nice of you to visit. How is, uh...?
Linguini: My mother?

Skinner: Yes...
Larousse: Renata.
Skinner: Yes, Renata. How is she?
Linguini: Good... well, not... good... She's been better. She's, uh... she...
Horst: She died.
Skinner: [attempting to care] Oh, uh, I'm sorry.
Linguini: Well, don't be.

She believed in Heaven, so she's covered... you know, afterlife-wise? Uh...
[clumsily gives Skinner a letter]
Skinner: What is this?
Linguini: She left it for you. I think she hoped it would help... me. You know, get a job... Here?

Skinner: Surely you don't expect me to believe this is your first time cooking?
Linguini: It's not.
Skinner: I KNEW IT!
Linguini: It's my... second, third, fourth, fifth time. Monday was my first time. But I've taken out the garbage lots of times before that...
Skinner: Yes, yes, yes,

have some more wine.