Chef
Chef is a 2014 American road comedy-drama film directed, written, co-produced by, and starring Jon Favreau as a celebrity chef who, after a public altercation with a food critic, loses his job at a popular Los Angeles restaurant and begins to operate a food truck with his young son. It co-stars Sofía Vergara, John Leguizamo, Scarlett Johansson, Oliver Platt, Bobby Cannavale, and Dustin Hoffman, along with Robert Downey Jr. in a cameo role. Favreau wrote the script after directing several big-budget films, wanting to go "back to basics" and to create a film about cooking. Food truck owner and chef Roy Choi served as a co-producer and oversaw the menus and food prepared for the film. Principal photography took place in July 2013 in Los Angeles, Miami, Austin and New Orleans. Chef premiered at South by Southwest on March 7, 2014, and was released theatrically on May 9, 2014, by Open Road Films. It was well received by critics, who praised the direction, music, writing, story, and performances, and grossed $46 million against a production budget of $11 million.
You there? Yeah. And it's only for the weekends and after school after you're done with your homework, and the money goes into your college fund. OK. Does that sound good? That sounds pretty good. Mom! Dad wants me to cook on his truck! No, really! He's on the phone. Mom wants to talk to you. I think it's yes. Hang on.
Chef
What exactly are you doing here? I'm, uh... eating the food. I'm eating your food. I thought my food was needy and cloying. Well, I didn't think you'd want to serve me, so I sent somebody else to pick it up. What happened between us, that really knocked me for a loop. I mean, you robbed me of my pride and my career and my dignity. And I know people like you don't usually care about that kind of thing. That's not necessarily true. But you should know, it hurts people like me. - 'Cause we're really trying. - You started a flame war with me. Are you kidding me? I buy ink by the barrel, buddy. What are you doing picking a fight with me? I wouldn't challenge you to a cook-off. I thought I was sending you a private message. I didn't know that. I thought we were having fun. It was theatre. By the way, what the fuck were you cooking? You totally shat the bed, buddy. How could I back that? You were one of my early boys. I had no control over the menu. Whatever the case, OK? You seem to be cooking for yourself again. Because this shit is sensational. I mean, really, really good. Thank you. I'm not gonna write about it. Yeah. I understand. Because I'd like to back you.
Chef
Excuse me? I wanna bankroll you, and I can't write about anything I have a vested interest in. I'm not sure I get what's going on here. I sold my website for a whole lot of money and I've just put in a bid on a place on Rose. It's zoned, it's permitted. You could build it out however you like. And you can cook whatever you like. Take your time, think about it. I wouldn't blame you for having a few trust issues, but I just thought that, you know, you and me burying the hatchet might be a good story. Reservations out the door. More importantly, you know, you just cook your ass off in there. In the meantime, you just tweet me wherever you are and I'll come running. 'Cause this shit's good. Alright?
Chef