The first…
And the second one.
They're the same.
Not at all.
- Yes, they are. - They're both whipped cream.
- You see! - But…
But…
This one was whipped with confectioner's sugar.
- This one? - This one with granulated sugar.
- They're the same. - No.
- Antonin! - Antonin.
- I'm cooking! - Hello, Henriette.
Hello.
I need to borrow my son.
Sure, no problem.
We have a busy night.
Some fifty Bonapartist soldiers are coming for dinner.
I can't stand them! I'm going to murder someone!
Want me to poison them?
I'd love that, but it'd be bad for business.
Come on, Antonin. Go to work!
Service please!
Be careful! Hot!
They're thirsty.
Well, let them drink their piss.
Hey! What's wrong with you?
It's overcooked. You can see that. And if you can't, get out.
Go back to your cakes and let me do my work.
Nobody's going anywhere.
No one's demanding perfection, least of all them.
- But you taught me to be demanding. - I also taught you patience!
I can make a roast a thousand times better
- than he can. - Calm down.
Bonaparte!
Listen to them.
Those morons are cheering for a coward who shot into the crowd.
They're so drunk, they wouldn't know the difference between a sole and a ham.
Go make the babas au rhum.
- So they choke on them? - Not good for business.
- But it's a good idea? - No.
Do you have any ice?
Towel!
Here.
Please help him!
He's Bonaparte!
Please!
Turn him over.
Thanks.
What is it?
Crushed hawthorn and linden.
Hawthorn dilates the blood vessels.
Linden regulates the nervous system.
- Are you a doctor? - A cook.
But I know my ingredients.
- Use it again in two hours. - Thank you.
Cook, your name?
Carême.
Marie-Antoine.
No need to ask you to keep this a secret,
Carême?
No need.
Long live Bonaparte!
I toast to the First Consul!
Soldiers!
This is your First Consul speaking!
You dirty girl!
Oh, you naughty girl!
Catch him!
So?
Honestly? It's going to be hard to sell.
Then we won't sell it!
I'm not sure you completely understand the concept of business.
On the contrary!
It catches the eye.
It'll attract customers.
Remember,
what matters is how it tastes more than how it looks.
No, not at all.
There are five fine arts:
Painting, sculpture, poetry, music…
and…
architecture.
The principal branch of which is pastry making.
You should know it by now, Dad.
Carême Marie-Antoine…
The First Consul Bonaparte
has chosen you to work at the Tuileries.
Come with me.
Thank you.
But no, thank you.
Excuse me?
I decline your offer.
I work here.
But maybe…
you could give this to your boss.
Are you sure?
Yes, I am.
Have a good day, sir.
Can you explain?
It's because of last night.
I saved Bonaparte's life.
I don't know what came over me. I should have let him die.
Accept the offer.
It's a unique opportunity.
- No. I don't belong there. - That's exactly where you belong.
Listen to me.
Only those who've never known hunger can appreciate your cooking.
The starving can't afford that luxury.
You want me to go work
for that jerk who killed your daughter?
I want you to become a great cook.
And if you have to go to the Tuileries for that, then go.
No.
Accept.
Impossible. You know me.
Do you want a taste?
Too strong.
What's in it?
Alcohol, saffron, opium.
You drink that every day.
And what is it for?
It calms the pain.
Do you regret turning down the Tuileries?
No.
What do you want to do with your life?
Be the best.
Make them cum with my cooking.
- Pretentious. - Me?
Come on, let's go!
Let's do it!
Wake up!
Put down the cups!
It's perfect.
No, it's not. There's too much air.
Monsieur Bailly?
Come with us.
- You're under arrest. - What's going on?
Hey, hey, hey!
Leave him!
- Calm down! - You wanna come with him?
Bring it on.
Put the knife down, Antonin.
Go to the Hôtel de Galliffet and ask for Talleyrand.
Tell the doorman it's about me. They'll let you in.
Go.
Go!
We're waiting for you.
You're in a bad position, my dear Catherine.
My son, empty vessels make the most noise.
Those pearls for your earrings, Germaine.
Go on.
Someone is here for you.
I have to leave.
Please continue.
So…
I'm listening.
I need your help…
regarding Sylvain Bailly.
Are you his adoptive son?
The one who makes the best vanilla éclairs in Paris?
I'm well informed.
And you?
Do you know who I am?
Everyone knows.
And what does "everyone" know?
That you're…
a nobleman,
a politician,
a priest.
Is that all?
You were ordained because you were unable to choose a military career.
Once you became bishop,
you voted to sell Church property to please the revolutionaries.
I simply lent myself to unfolding events.
They say you were a minister of the directorate
who planned a coup against that very same directorate.
You're now looking for a spot in the Consulate.
They say you're a traitor,
Monsieur de Talleyrand.
That you are a turncoat.
You have a curious way of asking for help, young man.
But tell me…
does the weather vane turn on its own…
or is it the wind?
And if you know me as well as that,
you must know that you have to pay to get an interview with me.
Sir, Sylvain Bailly sent me.
He got arrested.
Why?
I'd like to know too.
But he's innocent. I'm sure.
Innocent people don't need my help.
Generally.
It may be because of me.
I refused an offer to work at the Tuileries for Bonaparte.
Taste this.
You're probably right.
It probably is your fault.
But I refuse to…
Accept the offer.
I'll check what the charges against Bailly are.
Accept Bonaparte's offer.
So, what do you think of it?
About this.
A good cream puff should never squirt out.
The cream should be denser, the dough not as soft.
This isn't from Bailly's shop.
TUILERIES PALACE
Laguipierre! The new kid.
It's an honor to meet you.
Did you come to suck my dick or to cook?
To cook.
Come here.
I have something for you.
You came to cook, right?
Chicken Marengo?
And yesterday?
Chicken Marengo.
So, newbie, how do you like cooking?
Can I ask you a question?
Go ahead.
With everything you have here, why don't you make something more elaborate?
That's true.
Why don't I make a more elaborate cuisine?
Agathe!
Show the new kid how we chop an onion.
- Faster. - He's a pastry chef, it's normal!
Wondering what a woman's doing in this kitchen?
Seeing you, I wonder what these men are doing here.
Here.
You'll see. You'll pick it up quickly.
Service!
Come on, shitheads!
Move your asses!
Move it!
Move your ass!
You don't present the dishes?
What are you waiting for? You think it'll stir itself?
Piece of shit!
Come on!
I got it.
What are you doing here?
- I'm trying out a new dish. - The First Consul doesn't like novelty.
Joséphine does!
And she's hungry.
Laguipierre's with the whores.
And him? He's a cook, isn't he?
Yes.
Then cook. Madame's hungry.
We'll wait.
Put that down.
It won't take long.
What are they?
Do you want to taste it?
What is that called?
"Taking Flight."
There, you can go.
Thank you.
Those earrings look ravishing on you.
Really?
I find them a bit flashy…
Pure Germaine de Staël.
How did it go with the First Consul Bonaparte?
Did he finally nominate you minister of foreign relations?
Nothing for the moment.
He refused?
I reminded him that something about me brings bad luck
to governments that neglect me.
- In vain. - But he knows he needs you.
Bonaparte thinks he doesn't need anyone.
I told him that France needs to make peace with Great Britain,
that that peace would seal his victories for centuries,
would make them glorious, historical, et cetera.
Pride.
The one thing men have even less control over than their cocks.
And what did he reply?
He wants the English to evacuate Malta and Egypt.
Because, in reality, he doesn't want peace.
These 20 years of traveling around the world
have made you an expert in geopolitics.
Am I?
What will you do?
The English ambassador will be at the Tuileries tomorrow for an official lunch.
It seems that he loves desserts.
"He has a sweet tooth," as they say.
At the Tuileries? With that barracks kitchen?
And that boor Laguipierre!
That's precisely what I thought.
- Come, I'll show you a good time. - Shut up.
Do you have any news about my father?
He's alive…
for the moment.
I thought you were the most well-informed man in France.
The most well-informed man in France is the minister of police, Monsieur Fouché.
He hates me.
I can't hope for anything from him.
But…
But if I were to become minister of foreign relations,
my position would be much more favorable.
And how can you do that?
By making peace with the English.
And you're going to help me.
Me?
The human soul is governed by two emotions.
Not one, not three, not ten. Two.
Fear
and pleasure.
Pleasure doesn't come from here.
But from here.
Or from here.
For seduction, nothing works better than a well-chosen dish.
You're not learning it from me.
I need a dessert that will astound the most demanding sweet tooth.
For this lunch,
you'll be France's top pastry chef.
You have carte blanche.
Astonish me.
So!
It seems our beloved Laguipierre had a rough night.
It's not the first time, so listen up. Today, I want the entire pastry brigade
to be at Carême's disposal. Order from above.
If he asks you to crawl on all fours and start barking,
I don't want to see one person standing.
Everyone else, with me. We'll attack the 25 lamb chops as planned.
Come on. Move your asses, shitheads!
You can do it.
My dear Lord Jenkinson! Welcome to the Tuileries.
Please, this way.
It was the house of kings for three centuries.
Alas, things have changed.
Right now!
There you go.
No, no, no, no, no!
No, not like that.
That's what I want.
I want 100 like that. Get a move on!
Very good.
Agathe!
Which one?
So?
The one with confectioner's sugar.
More elegant.
- You tried the red one? - No. I took from the white.
It's delicious. We should bring some back.
- Your Excellency. - Yes.
Do you know the difference between France and England?
No, tell me.
In England, you have two sauces and 300 religions.
In France, we have two religions and more than 300 sauces.
Isn't it, Joséphine?
Fine analysis, dear Prince.
Cheers, my dear.
So?
Better?
Well done.
Who taught you that?
My father.
He called it "L'Extraordinaire."
He must be proud of you.
The First Consul is asking for a pyramid for dessert.
A pyramid?
The same one you gave him.
That's impossible.
A pyramid means war between Egypt and the British Empire.
But I have better.
This.
A tribute to the ambassador.
- He's gonna love it! - What do you care? He wants a pyramid.
He'll have this ship.
No, no…
What do you need?
I can't make it again.
Of course you can.
Antonin, it's no time to scribble.
Antonin.
Gather the nougat wafer paper.
We're going to boil 9 kilograms of sugar in 3 liters of water.
We bake slabs of genoise, we assemble them, we cut them, we dig them,
- and we garnish them with caramel. - Got it.
Understood? Gather the wafer paper. We need the wafer paper.
We want it now! We need three liters of water!
Let's go!
Come on guys! Don't slack off.
What is this?
An insult?
Provocation?
That's what we do with war, Your Excellency.
Your Excellency. It'd be an honor.
Congratulations.
To reconciliation.
Where's our hero?
With age, you get tougher.
You'll find out.
For better or for worse.
Come here. I have to talk to you.
You can be proud of yourself.
You've avoided a diplomatic incident.
But Bonaparte won't listen to me.
He doesn't want peace.
Who knows what war he will start next time.
I need an itinerary.
The First Consul is going to the opera in five days.
His routes are always top secret.
But there's a map.
Bonaparte hides it in his bedroom.
I want it.
You hate him that much?
What matters is what France needs.
Get me that itinerary.
Me?
Do what I ask you to do,
and you'll be reunited with your father.
And how could I access Bonaparte's bedroom?
Improvise!
It's also Joséphine's bedroom.
Who is it?
Carême. The cook.
Come in.
What do you want?
To cook.
For the First Lady.
- You already have. - Not for her alone.
In her room. Without the First Consul.
Why?
Because she likes my cooking. He doesn't.
Do you know the cost…
of approaching madame too closely?
I know she'll be pleased.
Prove it to me.
Come closer. I don't bite.
Usually.
Do you like what I've chosen?
They're simple ingredients but sophisticated.
I like simplicity.
You're right.
Simplicity demands the greatest artistry.
Wait.
Thank you.
You deserve better.
Taste this cocktail.
To begin.
Letting a woman drink alone is very bad manners.
Can I ask you a question?
Have you been trying for a long time?
All these products are certainly aphrodisiacs.
But they mainly promote fertility, I think. Right?
It's the new era.
Mine has already passed.
My guillotine is time.
Yet you are the most beautiful woman I've ever met.
That's always nice to hear.
Unfortunately, it's not beauty
that can save me.
Something else.
Another question.
Can you close your eyes for me?
What are you doing?
What would a cook be without secrets?
My husband likes efficiency.
No wasted time.
He does everything quickly.
I could see that from the way he eats.
No pleasure.
It's a shame.
MAP OF THE ROYAL PALACE DISTRICT
Saint-Nicaise Street…
I have Marseille soap made with olive oil!
Turn!
- I must speak to him! - His Excellency isn't receiving.
He will receive me!
Stop!
What are you doing here? You work for him?
- Antonin, you're bleeding. - You work for him?
Bonaparte's carriage turned before the attack.
He knew!
Someone warned him.
Who?
- I don't want to know. - You don't want to know?
People are dead, Henriette!
Dozens of people are dead!
What?
Talleyrand warned him?
To gain his trust.
Antonin, stay out of this.
Stay out of this.
- Let's go, I'm in a hurry. - Right away, sir.
- What are you doing? - Don't move.
Come work for me.
Help me put Bonaparte on the throne,
and I'll whisper in his ear to pardon your father.
You're a nut.
There is no throne. Not anymore.
It's been eight years since they guillotined the king.
Exactly.
Everything's possible today.
Everything.
You're talented.
Don't waste it.
Look at what we did in just one meal.
And if Fouché finds out that you are linked to the attack,
you'll be executed.
So,
do we have a deal?
- Stop here! - Yes, sir.
You shouldn't stay here, Mister Fouché.
It may still be dangerous.