The Best Remy Quotes

[when the restaurant is empty Linguini and Colette bring Remy to meet Ego]
Remy: At first, Ego thinks it's a joke. But as Linguini explains, Ego's smile disappears. He doesn't react beyond asking the occasional question. And when the story's done, Ego stands, thanks us for the meal, and leaves, without another word. The following day, his review appears:
Anton: In many ways, the work of a critic is easy. We risk very little, yet enjoy a position over those who offer up their work and their selves to our judgment. We thrive on negative criticism, which is fun to write and to read. But the bitter truth we critics must face, is that in the grand scheme of things, the average piece of junk is probably more meaningful than our criticism designating it so. But there are times when a critic truly risks something, and that is in the discovery and defense of the *new*. The world is often unkind to new talent, new creations. The new needs friends. Last night, I experienced something new: an extraordinary meal from a singularly unexpected source. To say that both the meal and its maker have challenged my preconceptions about fine cooking is a gross understatement. They have rocked me to my core. In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau's famous motto, "Anyone can cook." But I realize, only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist; but a great artist *can* come from *anywhere*. It is difficult to imagine more humble origins than those of the genius now cooking at Gusteau's, who is, in this critic's opinion, nothing less than the finest chef in France. I will be returning to Gusteau's soon, hungry for more.

Emile: W-w-wait. You... read?
Remy: Well, not... excessively.
Emile: Oh, man. Does dad know?
Remy: You could fill a book - a lot of books - with things Dad doesn't know. And they have. Which is why I read. Which is also our secret.
Emile: I don't like secrets. All this cooking and-and reading and TV-watching, while we... read, and... cook. It's like you're involving me in crime, and I let you. Why do I let you?

Remy: [sniffing a cake] Flour, eggs, sugar... vanilla bean... Oh, small twist of lemon.
Emile: Whoa! You can smell all that? You have a gift!
Remy: [voiceover] This is Emile, my brother. He's easily impressed.
Django: So you can smell ingredients. So what?
Remy: [voiceover] This is my dad. He's never impressed.

Emile: [notices Remy walking on his hind legs] Why are you walking like that?
Remy: I don't want to constantly have to wash my paws. Did you ever think about how we walk on the same paws that we handle food with? You ever think about what we put into our mouths?
Emile: All the time.
Remy: Ugh, when I eat, I don't want to taste everywhere my paws have been.
Emile: Well, go ahead. But if dad sees you walking like that, he's not gonna like it.

Remy: Hey, I brought you something to...
[sees Emile eating garbage]
Remy: AH! NO, NO, NO, NO! SPIT THAT OUT RIGHT NOW!
[Emile obeys]
Remy: [sighs] I have *got* to teach you about food. Close your eyes.
[Emile obeys; Remy holds out piece of cheese]
Remy: Now take a bite of thi...
[Emile snarfs the cheese]
Remy: [whacking him on the head] Ack! No, no, no! Don't just hork it down!
Emile: Too late.

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.

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]

Remy: [voice over] If you are what you eat, then I only want to eat the good stuff.

Remy: [as Emile tastes a piece of cheese] Creamy, salty-sweet, an oaky nuttiness... You detect that?
Emile: Oh, I'm detecting nuttiness...

Gusteau: What do I always say? Anyone can cook!
Remy: Well, yeah, anyone *can*, that doesn't mean that anyone *should*.

[frame freezes as Remy bursts through a window carrying a book over his head]
Remy: [voiceover] This is me. I think it's apparent that I need to rethink my life a little bit. What's my problem? First of all, I'm a rat. Which means, life is hard. Second, I have a highly developed sense of taste and smell.

Django: [showing the exterminator shop to Remy with the dead rats in the window] Take a good long look, Remy. This is what happens when a rat gets a little too comfortable around humans. The world we live in belongs to the enemy. We must live carefully. We look out for our own kind, Remy. When all is said and done, we're all we've got.
[he starts to walk away]
Remy: No.
Django: [turning back] What?
Remy: No. Dad, I don't believe it. You're telling me, that the future is - can *only* be - more of *this*?
Django: This is the way things are. You can't change nature.
Remy: Change *is* nature, Dad. The part that *we* can influence. And it starts when we decide.
[he turns to leave]
Django: Where are you going?
Remy: With luck, forward.

Django: Where are you going?
Remy: Back to the restaraunt! They'll fail without me!
Django: Why do you care?
Remy: Because I'm a cook!

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.

Remy: [observing what Emile is eating] What are you eating?
Emile: [pause] I don't really know. I think it was some sort of wrapper once.
Remy: What? No! You're in Paris now, baby! My town! No brother of mine eats rejecta-menta in my town!

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!

Gusteau: [Remy is locked in a cage] So, we have given up.
Remy: Why do you say that?
Gusteau: We are in a cage, inside a car trunk, awaiting a future in frozen food products.
Remy: No, I'm the one in a cage. I've given up. You... are free.
Gusteau: I am only as free as you imagine me to be. As you are.
Remy: Oh, please. I'm sick of pretending. I pretend to be a rat for my father, I pretend to be a *human* for Linguini. I pretend you *exist* so I have someone to talk to! You only tell me stuff I already know! I know who I am! Why do I need you to tell me? Why do I need to pretend?
Gusteau: [chuckles] But you don't Remy. You never did.
[disappeares]

Remy: [cooking a mushroom over the chimney] The key is to keep turning it. Get the smoky flavor niiice and even...
[thunder rumbles in the distance]
Emile: That storm's getting closer. Hey, Remy? You think that maybe we shouldn't be so...
[lightning strikes both; they fall off the roof]
Remy: [laying on his back, Remy tastes the electrocuted mushroom] Whoa, you gotta taste this! This is... oh, it's got this kind of... mmm, it's burny, melty... it's not really a smoky taste. It's more like a certain... Pshew! It's got like this "Ba-boom! Zap!" kind of taste. Don't you think? What would you call that flavor?
Emile: [hesitantly] Lightning-y?
Remy: Yeah! It's lightning-y! Oh, we gotta do that again! Okay, when the next storm comes, we'll go up on the roof... I know what this needs! Saffron. A little saffron would make this!
Emile: Saffron. Why do I get the feeling...
Remy,20342: [together] It's in the kitchen.