Pixar’s Ratatouille is a masterpiece, a beautiful, fun, well-made movie all on its own. But it also touches the heart of gastronomy, the love and study of deliciousness. For a cook, for someone who devoted her life to food and cooking for years, it’s deeply moving. It came out sometime after I graduated culinary school, while I was working my first few prep jobs, chopping and washing, and maybe occasionally plating a salad. Ratatouille was an inspiration to me.
And it has Colette Tatou:
You waste energy and time! You think cooking is a cute job, eh? Like Mommy in the kitchen? Well, Mommy never had to face the dinner rush while the orders come flooding in, and every dish is different and none are simple, and all different cooking time, but must arrive at the customer’s table at exactly the same time, hot and perfect! Every second counts and you CANNOT be MOMMY!
Colette, of course, is the one woman cook in the kitchen at Gusteau’s:
How many women do you see in this kitchen? . . . Only me. Why do you think that is? Because high cuisine is an antiquated hierarchy built upon rules written by stupid, old men. Rules designed to make it impossible for women to enter this world. But still I’m here. How did this happen? . . . Because I am the toughest cook in this kitchen! I have worked too hard for too long to get here, and I am not going to jeopardize it for some garbage boy who got lucky! Got it?
She is, too. The crew at Gusteau’s is pretty (stereo)typical, a bunch of guys most people wouldn’t, at first blush, want to meet in dark alleys, some of whom have spent time in prison for unknown reasons, or are serious gamblers, or gun runners, or just slimy little guys about whom you have to wonder how they made it to the station they have. They left out the drinking and drugs and the obscenities — it is a Disney picture — but none of these things are uncommon. Gusteau’s may have a higher concentration of, ahem, colorful characters than most real kitchens, but cooks are a motley bunch of misfits. Just think how tough must Colette be to be tougher than these guys.
I’m going to ignore all the artifacts of the Disneyness of this movie — ok, most of them, there’s one I want to hit later — like the clean language, the obligatory minimum level of femininity, the romance. Generally, though, she’s really a very accurate portrayal, even examined quite closely.
Notice that, while her position is never specified, she’s low enough on the totem pole that she’s given the job of training the despised plongeur (“garbage boy” in the film, actually dishwasher), a job only given to the person occupying the station the new person is moving into, so she’s pretty damn low. She’s been doing cleanup, and maybe some vegetables and soup. Notice how she doesn’t want to train him: she’s worked damn hard to get as far as she has, and she knows that training a male for the same job could mean she’s going to watch him be promoted above her in short order (which, in fact, happens). Notice how she trains him anyway . . . and then actually thanks him for listening, almost pathetically grateful for him giving her even that minimum of respect. Notice how she is then hurt and angry when he ignores her advice and blows past her anyway.
Notice also how Colette wants to follow the recipe precisely, while the male Linguini shines when rat Remy nudges him into improvising. One of the standard stereotypes in restaurant kitchens is that women are precise, follow recipes and directions to the letter, but that men are bold experimenters, trying new things, pushing the boundaries. The only recipes women are fit to change at all are the ones handed down by their grandmothers – another gender stereotype in cooking, that women cook old-fashioned homestyle comfort food, while men make bold, challenging strong food. Women cook with their hearts, men cook with their head and their dicks. (That’s only a slight paraphrase, and the original really did say dicks.)
Did you catch the nasty little remark the Sous Chef, Horst, tosses at her as he leaves after Linguini and Remy impress people? “The plongeur won’t be coming to you for advice anymore, eh, Colette? He’s got all he needs.” He takes the opportunity to remind her of her place, and to confirm her worst fears.
And yet, Colette soldiers on, despite everything, because she loves the food and the cooking. Oh, yeah, that’s a woman cook all over.
Understand me here: I am not criticizing Pixar for putting these things in. I am applauding them. The writers and animators spent serious amounts of time in the several professional kitchens they based Gusteau’s on, learning to understand the relationships and dynamics found in those kitchens. They did a remarkable job, and when I watched that movie the first time, I identified with Colette completely. There aren’t many movies about women cooks that are accurate. It feels really good to see that portrayed on screen in a major film. It’s freaking awesome.
But now I want to go back and touch on one of those Disney-mandated unrealistic things. The romance.
It’s a bad plan in any profession for a competent, capable woman to date a male superior. Any promotion she earns will be dismissed as favoritism from her boyfriend and any skill she has will be ignored. She cannot possibly be any good, or anything other than a slut, trying to get ahead by sleeping her way there.
Linguini announced his and Colette’s relationship to the press, “Inspiration has many names. Mine is named Colette.” That moment in the movie is supposed to be about how he’s betraying Remy by not being honest, but he’s betraying Colette nearly as much just by these two sentences. In eight words, he demotes her from competent cook on the way up to artist’s muse. As the former, she could keep working her way up. As the latter, she might never get another job in a really good kitchen again, if she and Linguini break up. That gets ignored, of course, shellacked over with Remy’s story, some sharp remarks, and that trademarked Disney happy-ever-after. You can still see it there, embedded in the story, even if you can’t touch it, buried under that clear medium.
I know, I know, they had to have the romance. It’s the way these stories work, isn’t it, and realism will have to take a backseat to that. And I accept that, even if it makes me a little sad. But Colette is still a good character, well and accurately written. I love and identify with her. I love the voice Janeane Garofalo gives her, and the expressions and movements the animators give her. She’s fantastic. I just . . . worry about her. I can’t help but write the rest of her story in my head. They open the cafe Le Ratatouille where Linguini waits tables while Colette helps Remy in the kitchen. But rats have a short life span, and three or four years later, Remy’s dead. Colette takes over, but though she’s tried to learn the kind of creative thinking Remy excelled at, she’s still limited by her early training, by being told that she can’t possibly be a creative cook because she’s a woman, and she just can’t manage his flights of fancy. The restaurant starts a slow decline. She and Linguini, married now, are fighting more and more.
Eventually, he hires a young, creative, male cook to “help her out” in the kitchen — without really consulting her, because he knows she won’t be happy — and the hotshot tries, more and more, to take over the kitchen. It’s making Colette crazy, and Linguini won’t back her up — he’s really a very weak man, and their major investor (Ego) is pressuring him to get Le Ratatouille back up to snuff. Times get worse and worse, and eventually she walks out on him and starts divorce proceedings. She still owns a share in the cafe, though, and keeps working there, because she knows how hard it will be for her to find another job. There’s just been too much press about how she’s Linguini’s inspiration, his muse. Eventually, though, she has to go, and sure enough, chefs make excuses. No one laughs in her face, but she hears the sniggers of the commis (apprentices, more or less) behind her back as she leaves the interview. Oh, eventually she might find a job at a good place, but it will be a lower position than she deserves, potager or entremetier, nothing on the entree line, not yet. She’ll have to work her way up all over again, earn all that respect again. And there will always be whispers, there will always be guys thinking she’s easy and coming on to her, when she just wants to get her prep done. Oh, eventually she’ll make a solid sous chef somewhere, but with that early training to always adhere to recipes, she may never make chef again. Depressing.
I can’t write an piece on Ratatouille without talking about the Big Scene, where Remy sends out a dressed-up peasant dish to critic Anton Ego, the titular ratatouille. The dish instantly transports Ego back to his childhood, to a day when he fell off his bike and skinned his knees, and his mother kissed him and gave him a big bowl of ratatouille. This is what every serious cook wants to do, to provoke a deep emotional response with their delicious food. Food is truly both craft and art, with both workaday boring fuel and deeply moving numinous experiences create from the same basic skillset.
The dish presented is actually French Laundry chef-owner Thomas Keller’s byaldi recipe (found in his French Laundry Cookbook), his variant on confit byaldi, created by French chef Michel Guerard as a play on traditional Provencal ratatouille and a Turkish dish called imam bayildi. Keller was a consultant on the film, and created the specific presentation depicted when the Pixar crew asked him how he would serve ratatouille to the most prominent food critic in the world.
All of that is just background, though. What’s most interesting about this dish to me is that it represents a fascinating blend of two strongly gendered aspects of cooking: the focus on technique and stylized presentation attributed to men, and the “soulful grandmere-style” nourishing comfort food attributed to women. In the narrative of the movie, Remy manages to unite the two gendered styles in the same scene that reunites the lovers who quarreled over him. Interesting, and probably not intentional on the part of the writers.
If you’re interested in reading about a real life Colette, Amy Glaze Wittman of Ms. Glaze’s Pommes d’Amour spent time working in one of Guy Savoy’s three star* Paris restaurants, one of those the Pixar crew observed while doing research for Ratatouille. To read about some of Amy’s adventures in a French kitchen, check to the Chef Stories category. You’ll have to go archive diving, because since 2008 when she left France, she’s worked in several restaurants in NYC and San Francisco, and had her own kitchen, too. She’s an eloquent writer and accurately captures what it’s like to work in a really high-end kitchen as a woman. One of my favorite posts of hers is How to Talk Like a French Chef, a lesson in truly foul cursing. The Chocolate Chip Caper talks about how hard the job is sometimes, and oh boy can I identify.
I love the character of Colette. Depictions of women in professional kitchens are so rare in popular media, I want to treasure each good one.
*Three stars from the Michelin Guide is a far higher accolade than five stars in any American guide. In Europe, “three star” is understood to mean these restaurants, and they are the finest in the world. In the movie, Gusteau’s is called a five star restaurant to make it easier for American audiences to recognize it as a really fine restaurant.
Tags: feminism, food, jobs, movies, rebecca lynde-scott, work
REBECCA, this was fantastic and thought-provoking and great great great. That romance storyline always bugged me and now I have a beautifully written reason why.
This is just brilliant. Thanks a bunch.
Thank you!
This is exactly the kind of article I love reading on The Toast, gut-wrenchingly sad imagining of a sequel to a beloved movie included. Thank you!!
Ohhh I never get tired of this movie, and Colette is the primary reason why. Even though her awesomeness has that tragic dimension you describe.
I’m reminded of the scathing checklist in “We’re losing all our Strong Female Characters to Trinity Syndrome”:
4. Is a fundamental point of your plot that your Strong Female Character is the strongest, smartest, meanest, toughest, or most experienced character in the story—until the protagonist arrives?
5. …or worse, does he enter the story as a bumbling fuck-up, but spend the whole movie rapidly evolving past her, while she stays entirely static, and even cheers him on? Does your Strong Female Character exist primarily so the protagonist can impress her?
This is absolutely excellent, though I prefer to imagine a happier ending for Collette (When Remy dies she takes over the restaurant completely, people keep coming, and she gets the name for herself that she deserves).
I knew professional cooking was a huge boys club, and it interests me how much the attitudes reflect attitudes in other industries.
In writing, especially sci-fi and fantasy, the stereotype is that women aren’t as good at it… because they are not precise enough. They are all emotional, and their work is ‘internal’, whatever that means. It seems at complete odds with the restaurant stereotypes, but all comes from the same place – that men do it ‘properly’ and women do it in a sub-par manner.
In writing, especially sci-fi and fantasy, the stereotype is that women aren’t as good at it… because they are not precise enough. They are all emotional, and their work is ‘internal’, whatever that means. It seems at complete odds with the restaurant stereotypes, but all comes from the same place – that men do it ‘properly’ and women do it in a sub-par manner.
This whole thing makes me want to both nod in acknowledgement and also cry a little. Not sure where the crying thing comes from. Perhaps I’m just illustrating the emotional thing. Or perhaps I’m just anxious about my looming deadline.
This is excellent and fascinating. I could read about women in the world of cooking all day long and never really understand the idea of “women can cook but Men are Chefs” and how much it influences the way we look at cooking, food, and restaurants today.
I read something somewhere (unfortunately can’t remember who said it) about how a lot of the macho posturing male chefs do (see: Bourdain, Anthony) comes from the toxic masculine insecurity of doing something seen as traditionally female: cooking. I mean, I love cooking and respect the hell out of chefs and it’s a TOUGH job that involves fire and knives, but there is something ridiculous about some dude being like RAWR I GOT A RAMONES TATTOO ON MY BALLS AND 30 LINES OF COKE IN MY VEINS AND I AM NOW GOING TO SPRINKLE PARSLEY ON THIS QUAIL EGG AMUSE-BOUCHE.
AND NOW I’M EATING WEIRD SHIT, LIKE THE GROSS INNARDS OF THIS ANIMAL I JUST WATCHED THE CHEF KILL. THIS IS, LIKE, PRIMAL AND SHIT, I’M CONNECTING WITH MY INNER HUNTER BY PROVING I CAN EAT GROSS SHIT.
That’s probably the single most common theory for the hypermasculinity problem in the kitchen, and is generally accepted to be at least a part of the problem. There’s also whole history of actual militarization — the structure of modern kitchens is based on that of the military. There are some other contributing factors as well, but compensation is probably at the heart of it.
I loved this post so much – the world of chefs and haute cuisine and the complicated gender relations is so fascinating and you tapped into why perfectly! I loved Ratatouille but always felt Colette was a semi-tragic figure. I hope she strikes out on her own and makes it big one day… quick, someone write me that fanfic!
Gonna use this opportunity to plug a blog I’ve really enjoyed reading, from a professional female chef: eggbeater.
Loved this. I’d also be interested to see something on women as pastry chefs, which seems to be a direction a number of women have taken in professional kitchens. I suspect it has something to do with it being a role that is somewhat independent of the rest of the kitchen (different work hours, outside the rest of the hierarchy) but that’s just a guess.
Pastry is the stereotypical woman’s job in the kitchen. It’s cute and sugary, and therefore women’s work. Not that there aren’t male pastry chefs, but that’s the stereotype. I blogged about it once.
This article makes me hate Ratatouille just a tiny bit less. (Colette was awesome, though.)
This is why I actually disliked this movie; it might be accurate, but it seems odd that we must have accurate portrayal of sad gender realities in a movie about a rat who cooks fine cuisine. It’s perhaps the saddest statement imaginable that we have the imagination to come up with a rat who succeeds as chef, but not a woman who can…THAT is just too much for the imagination to bear. The fact that she “falls in love” with a pimply, slightly dim goofball who will never be worthy of her and who is basically just the mechanical arms of an actual, if rodent, genius is just the poop sprinkles on the shit sundae of this story.
The rat couldn’t be female, of course. Also thank you for going into detail about why I do not like this movie.
The rat IS technically female; all animated animals are, lest children be forever scarred by cartoon balls. See particularly: The obviously male-character cow in Barnyard with prominent udders.
Since — as I recall — Remy uses male pronouns, I consider him male. There is an interesting discussion to be had about making obviously female animals male (including Santa’s reindeer, all sorts of bugs and cows) and one about why all the animals have had their balls surgically removed, but we’re absolutely supposed to read Remy as male even though it would change nothing about the movie had he been a she.
(It’s nice that they did Brave, and that the next movie is going to be balanced wrt male and female characters but honestly Pixar has sucked about this, making characters that could be female or gender neutral male all the time.)
The cat bus in My Neighbor Totoro has a nice set of furry balls.
I went to see Finding Nemo with my family in the theater. My arms crossed early in the movie and by the end I was fuming. The only potentially female character (other than DeadMom at the beginning, but she’s a plot device, not a character) is Dory, but the gender of that fish is never actually specified in the film. I don’t remember any gender specific pronouns*. I may be wrong, because I only saw the movie once, but once I realized there weren’t any female (major) characters, I started paying attention for gendered pronouns. Even the scene at the school is all dads dropping their kids off. The fucking turtles made me the maddest. There are sea creatures with involved fatherhoods – various fishes and seahorses, for instance – but turtles are specifically absentee parents, which is FINE, but don’t give me some bullshit story about how turtle dads are actually noble by human standards, especially when mothers DO NOT EXIST AT ALL in your horrible universe. Moms are only around to sacrifice themselves, and certainly not to shape or affect the psyches of their children.
Another stupid movie about how a boy’s relationship to his father is the most important of all human relationships, even if it’s in fucking fish form. I loved Brave, but I don’t really trust John Lasseter to remember that women exist on a regular basis.
*Which could be great in another film, but in a universe of default masculinity, it’s another suspect point for me.
UGH I HATE BARNYARD FOR THAT VERY REASON.
No, of course not. Because the only female rat, Remy’s mother, died early in the movie and all the remaining rats must be male. Because Disney.
I love this essay so much. I love many things about Ratatouille, but in the end, the romance kills it for me, even though it combines multiple things I love very much. (I have pet rats and I love to eat, so, you know, you’ve pretty much got me when you make a movie about a rat-chef. Until you decide there only needs to be one woman in it and her character should be subverted to the emotional needs of the pathetic male lead.)
Have you seen The Hundred Foot Journey? The treatment of the female chef in that was infuriating. It’s kind of a similar story, with an Indian cook instead of a rat. Plus, the intimidating critic equivalent is a woman (Helen Mirren!) who runs a restaurant with one Michelin star, yet someone makes an offhand comment about how she only keeps it going for her late husbands sake. I hated the ending, but I’ll refrain from spoilers.
I just saw it yesterday and also wasn’t a huge fan. I didn’t like the ending because I thought it was totally unnecessary and made a long movie even longer. What else didn’t you like? I was thinking about Ratatouille almost the whole movie and about how much more I enjoyed that movie –maybe i just have a thing for parisian rats.
I kind of felt bad disliking it, because it was a sweet story. But, it bugged me that the female chef was the rising star in Helen Mirren’s kitchen and should have got the head chef job, but instead the guy she helped was promoted past her. I know she wasn’t the central protagonist, but I wish sometimes the woman would get to be the star.
Ugh, yes. I came here to complain about this movie. Despite the problems outlined in this piece, Colette and Linguini have a much more satisfying relationship than Hassan and Marguerite.
(SPOILER, of sorts – Also, Marguerite basically gives up on all her goals once the plot no longer requires her to be competitive. I was so mad when I realized just how thoroughly she had faded into the background. And then she’s just painted into the happy ending…)
And then Helen Mirren gives up her restaurant entirely! Ugh.
I have not seen it, but I will go out and find it instantly.
I love this article. This probably explains why Ratatouille was never really my favorite of the Pixar clan, even though by all rights it should be. I love rats! I love food! I love family drama amongst rats!
CATBUUUUUUUUUUG!
I had to go look that gif up. What? I mean just… what?
I’m glad you liked it. And thank you for introducing me to The Bravest Warriors.
This article is amazing! I just watched a clip, though. Why is Colette wearing a male chef’s coat?
The only coat I’ve ever seen cut to a woman’s shape are custom ones. I own exactly one, which I bought when I opened my restaurant, and it cost an arm and a leg (well, I bought a really nice one). In the US, at least, the restaurant provides you with your whites and checks, and you just grab one off the rack when you go in for your shift; you don’t have your own. Most whites, and all of the ones provided, are cut for men, and we just deal.
I meant that the buttons are on the right more than the shape. To be fair, my only experience here is from watching a lot of cooking shows, but women on those shows usually have coats that button on the left. I can totally see that being a nod to aesthetics, though.
Chef’s coats are double-breasted and button both ways, so that if you drop something straight down the front, you can swap and hide it. What side you button on barring that is purely a matter of habit. I always button mine on the left, too, but the coats themselves aren’t set up to require you to. Probably it didn’t occur to the artists at all, but it would not surprise me if there were male chefs and cooks out there who made snide comments about which side a woman buttons hers on (because there are cooks, and people in general, who will make snide comments about anything at all), and a woman could easily decide to swap based on that, or have picked it up for other reasons.
Oh my god, what side you button on has actually been an issue for me. I learned to button on the right. Men are like vultures and will take any chance they get to point out how womanly you are.
I actually saw a female line cook the other night when I went out to eat, and she was wearing sparkly stud earrings and LIPSTICK. I wanted to buy her a drink.
I KNOW RIGHT? We had a woman grill cook at one place I worked who used to actually wear dangly earrings on the line, and serious eye makeup. I was so fucking impressed that she had the guts to do that. And a bit puzzled, because I know people who’ve had even plain hoops ripped out in accidents. But impressed.
I really, really wish it were surprising to get confirmation that people actually do hassle women cooks for the way they button their jackets.
Wonderful piece. Thank you!
Loved loved loved this. Thank you (inarticulate) x
This is really excellent and I want to sit with it and think some more. Thanks!
This is so great. I love Ratatouille and I love Colette, but I’m always bummed when it gets into the romance part and Linguini’s in the spotlight. I’m now imagining a version that follows Colette: we see her hard work and accomplishments in the kitchen, her (what looks like a pretty cute) apartment, her rollerblading happily by herself through Paris, etc. No rat or man-child required.
It does say something that Disney/Pixar thought “rat becomes a renowned French chef” was something people would buy, but not “talented woman succeeds professionally without becoming inept man’s romantic interest.”
I have no idea how Colette and Linguini’s relationship is supposed to sustain itself. It was based on their mutual love of cooking and talent as chefs, and Linguini was faking that.
I’m pretty sure “your incredible talent that attracted me was actually a rat living in your hair” is grounds for breaking up in any culture.
I want to kiss this post for including Imam Bayildi (literally means the “Imam fainted.” In Turkish idioms, if you are really impressed with something, you describe it as something so good it made you faint).
Oo. I did not know that. I will now file it away in my vast stores of random facts, to be unearthed whenever the topic comes up again. Thank you!
I have no idea how Colette and Linguini's relationship is supposed to sustain itself. It was based on their mutual love of cooking and talent as chefs, and Linguini was faking that.
You know which animated show passes the Bechdel test and the Trinity Syndrome test with flying colors? Star Wars: the Clone Wars. Soooo many great female characters! They have deep, complex relationships with each other, and are and doctors and Jedi and resistance fighters and scoundrels and they do awesome things and make mistakes and have integrity and honor. My son is obsessed with it and I keep getting sucked in by all the feminism.
This is completely off topic, but the internet has decided to try and sell me a Williams-Sonoma chicken coop to go with this post. Which…is just so very, very special.
Love this article- I didn’t pay much attention to the gender ick when I watched the movie, so it’s great to get a recap!
Williams-Sonoma chicken coop. I must google this and then giggle about it for days. BRB
I went to see Finding Nemo with my family in the theater. My arms crossed early in the movie and by the end I was fuming. The only potentially female character (other than DeadMom at the beginning, but she's a plot device, not a character) is Dory, but the gender of that fish is never actually specified in the film. I don't remember any gender specific pronouns*. I may be wrong, because I only saw the movie once, but once I realized there weren't any female (major) characters, I started paying attention for gendered pronouns. Even the scene at the school is all dads dropping their kids off. The fucking turtles made me the maddest. There are sea creatures with involved fatherhoods – various fishes and seahorses, for instance – but turtles are specifically absentee parents, which is FINE, but don't give me some bullshit story about how turtle dads are actually noble by human standards, especially when mothers DO NOT EXIST AT ALL in your horrible universe. Moms are only around to sacrifice themselves, and certainly not to shape or affect the psyches of their children.
Another stupid movie about how a boy's relationship to his father is the most important of all human relationships, even if it's in fucking fish form. I loved Brave, but I don't really trust John Lasseter to remember that women exist on a regular basis.
*Which could be great in another film, but in a universe of default masculinity, it's another suspect point for me.
Lately I have been inundated with a lot of facebook ‘mom’ posts about how ‘I’m not ‘just’ a mom’ followed by a whole list of potential jobs ‘chef, psychiatrist, driver, teacher etc’. Now I get that parenting is HARD and 24hrs and forever, but these posts really tick me off and I have to really fight myself not to post sarcastic replies. These posts make me uncomfortable in various ways. I can feel the frustration that these talented women feel at home, I dont want to devalue parenting, I know it is very gendered and very unfair, yet I don’t have sympathy when they say ‘oh you’re not a mom, you don’t know how tough it is’, and i want to rub it in their face that ‘well, you’re not a professional anything, why do you think you know what I’m talking about’.
I loved this examination of Colette and the whole thing about ‘to be a real chef you cannot be mommy’ (which I get, the gulf between doing something professionally and doing something for your family). I’m tempted to post this to my ‘mom’ friends, but I think they will be very cross.
Yeah, I mean the thing is, being a full-time parent at home does require all those things (taxi-driver, cook, teacher) etc, and it’s sad that parents feel as though they have to reinforce that, when it’s something that’s self-evident, really. Of course you’re going to take your child places and make them food and listen to their problems! Of course it’s difficult and it requires a whole lot of juggling, but isn’t it OK to just say ‘I’m a stay at home parent’ and not have to try to justify the work as if it’s not enough? I feel sad that it is so devalued, that many parents (especially women as it’s usually they who stay home) feel as though they have to prove themselves to be doing ‘real, proper work’. (Also the ‘you’re not a parent so you don’t understand’ is really annoying. I’m a parent and I still find it annoying).
oooo!! I read this and nodded and agreed and didn’t figure out it was YOU until I caught up on LJ.
I love this post, and am so pleased to know you in other circumstances too!
Thanks! I’m thrilled that SOMEONE I KNOW saw it without me pointing to it.
Of course you didn’t know it was me. This is the very first place I’ve used the new last name in public.
*waves* Didn’t I see this post from you somewhere else a long while ago? I got halfway through and thought, “This sounds very familiar…”, then I checked the byline and oh, *that’s* why. This is a wonderful piece and I’m glad it’s getting Toast-sized attention!
This really was wonderful. I had never seen Ratatouille, and I immediately corrected this oversight, and viewed it with a mind already sharpened by critical insight and knowledge of the restaurant world. It was fantastic, and I think I had a better time than if I’d watched it cold.
Also I watched it in a bathtub in a hotel in downtown Tokyo, drinking several vending machine beers and eating seaweed flavoured potato chips, attempting to soak a day of convention reporting out of my limbs. This has no relevance to Rebecca’s brilliance, but as I lay there I felt slightly sad that nobody would ever know what a cool dude I am. NOW YOU ALL KNOW
Very interesting- thanks for sharing- I am pretty much clueless about the entire realm of professional cooking, let alone gender politics specifically. What I realized after reading this was that I identified with Linguini, not Collette. (Or maybe even Remy, though not the cooking part!) As an autistic woman, I generally identify with whoever the most socially awkward and underdog like character is, regardless of gender (sometimes this means the character isn’t even human- Spock/Data et al) While sexism certainly concerns me, in the realm of jobs I’m generally more concerned more with ableism, and in general a lot of the concerns of mainstream feminists make me go “Ha! I wish I had that problem!” When I was in high school reading about women being seen as “sex objects”, I couldn’t imagine anyone looking at me in a sexual way. Asexualized or “novelty sex object” is more like it.
Did you catch the nasty little remark the Sous Chef, Horst, tosses at her as he leaves after Linguini and Remy impress people?