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Gordon Ramsay’s Blog

If passion is measured in four-letter words, then Gordon Ramsay is one of the most passionate people alive. An eminently accomplished and respected professional chef and restaurateur, Ramsay has amassed a total of 12 Michelin stars. Ramsay, born in Scotland but raised in England, was a promising footballer before injury thwarted those dreams. But his cooking skills proved extraordinary enough to help him succeed in the restaurant world. And his mouth proved foul enough to get him on TV. A lot.

Newsflash lardass: Cheese fries aren't good for you

By Gordon Ramsay

So the New York Times decided to break a story this week: it turns out that this summer, American kids are fat! Who fucking knew? And it looks like cheese-fries are the bloody culprits. You mean that when kids eat deep-fried, starchy vegetables covered in Velveeta, it's not good for them? And all this time I thought raw fruits and vegetables were to blame.

My God, parents, is it that fucking hard to make your kids a fucking salad? Is it impossible to make them a sandwich without using Wonder Bread? It's a freakishly white, nutrient-depraved sponge-like substance that even pigeons know to stay the fuck away from. Why do you all insist on feeding your children chemical-waste? It's pretty fucking simple. If you serve your kids mutant food, they are going to look like mutants.

7/3/2008 11:30 AM, Los Angeles
37 comments

Rachael Ray may be a terrorist, but it has nothing to do with her scarf

By Gordon Ramsay

Bio & Blog

People are overreacting. To the scarf, not Rachael Ray. It seems Dunkin Donuts pulled an ad that featured Rachael Ray donning a scarf that resembled a keffiyeh, a certain type of headdress that people like Michelle Malkin and others don't like. Or something.

I don't believe Rachael and Dunkin Donuts were trying to perpetuate any terrorist agenda or express sympathies with jihadists. No, the terrorism comes in the form of the Rachael Ray Show, a daily 60-minute drivel fest that is so torturous to watch it makes waterboarding seem like boogie boarding.

The scarf isn't the problem. It's her recipes with names like "POP-sta Pasta Bar with Three Sauces" and "Jambasta".

5/30/2008 10:15 AM, New York
8 comments

Where is Thumbkin? I ate him.

By Gordon Ramsay

Bio & Blog

If you saw the latest episode of "Hell's Kitchen" (and judging from the ratings you probably did), then you're aware that I ate a piece of a cook's thumb. Big fucking deal. It's less disgusting than those processed frozen meals you have, like Hot Pockets and Lean Cuisine. At least that thumb was all natural. And New Yorkers love to prance around and brag about how they're into all natural ingredients.

Well, get ready for my next restaurant, called "Finger Foods." 

5/27/2008 9:00 AM, New York
4 comments

L.A.'s cupcake boom? What is this, New York ten years ago?

By Gordon Ramsay

Bio & Blog

Here we go. Another city, another spate of cupcake-focused bakeries. Another bunch of fucking words written like "haute cupcakes" and "an upscale nod to nostalgia". 

Problem is, L.A. must have been asleep for the last fucking decade. The whole cupcake thing has been done to death. I thought we were through the woods, done hearing about how fucking cool and "retro" cupcakes were. I thought we were finished with interviews with the bakery proprietors telling mind-numbing stories about how they found their grandmother's old recipe box in the attic and dusted one of the recipe cards off and lo! there was a glorious cupcake recipe and they just jazzed it up a bit to make it "cutting-edge" and it is the perfect marriage of great memories and contemporary cuisine. 

Fuck L.A. and fuck their cupcakes. And while we're at it, fuck New York's cupcakes too.  

5/13/2008 8:39 AM, Burbank, California
7 comments

I don't know where he fucking gets it from

By Gordon Ramsay

Bio & Blog

Looks like my 8-year-old son has learned some bad language. Bloody cable television is ruining families. If we can't sit together in front a fucking television as a happy fucking family and watch a fucking show without violence, sex and cursing then it's a sad fucking time in this world. 

I'm one of the fortunate ones. I have a good relationship with my kids. So I sat my son, Jack, down and told him: "That kind of fucking language is fresh and rude and makes you sound fucking ignorant."

He seemed to understand, he said: "Oh my fucking word, dad. I sounded like a rude wanker. I'll never use that language again. You have my fucking word."

I cried a little. It means a lot when you get through to someone you love.

5/8/2008 1:39 PM, London
9 comments

Damn you, mango pit!

By Gordon Ramsay

Bio & Blog

I can't catch a fucking break! Last night I came home late as usual. I work in the fucking restaurant industry and my hours suck. Anyway, I wanted a quick, simple snack: plank-grilled barramundi with a cilantro-mango salsa spiked with a touch of brunoised jalapeno for a little spice.

Well that didn't fucking happen.

Don't get me wrong, I had all the ingredients. (They're staples in my kitchen.) What I didn't have was the fucking patience for that damn mango. As an international celebrity, I travel the world and see the best it has to offer. I've seen amazing things.

I've learned that we can create a vacuum cleaner that works by itself. We can invent beer bottles that signify when it is cold enough to drink (although I still prefer the fucking touch method). But we can't genetically engineer a fucking mango with a pit that doesn't drive everyone fucking crazy!

The ridiculously large and wide pit takes up so much of the mango. I don't know about you, but I buy a mango for its juicy, sweet flesh. Not its fucking pit. Apparently the pit didn't get the memo.

5/1/2008 11:42 AM, Boise, Idaho
4 comments

Bourdain + Ruhlman = Someone please inject me with sodium thiopental

By Gordon Ramsay

Bio & Blog

<!--StartFragment-->Sorry it's taken me so long to comment on The Golden Clog Awards. Guess that's because I didn't fucking hear of them till now. After all, The Golden Clogs make the ESPYs look like the Oscars.

Let me explain, please, what The Golden Clogs are: They are awards dreamed up by nothing chef Tony Bourdain and -- wait a minute, this next one is making me laugh too hard to type -- Michael Ruhlman, the genius author who brought you such classics as "The Making of a Chef" and "The Soul of a Chef". More about those pieces of shit later.

4/25/2008 10:27 AM, New York
7 comments

Top Chef? Top Shit

By Gordon Ramsay

Bio & Blog

This writer did an almost sufficient job at panning the Top Chef cookbook, called, fucking creatively, "Top Chef The Cookbook." How-fucking-ever, I would have preferred more anger. Particularly at the fucking fact that Anthony Bourdain got his own fucking chapter!

Listen to me Bourdain. You can no longer call yourself a chef. Not when you run around writing bad novels and appearing as a guest judge on shitty reality shows. What the fuck did you just say!? I HOST my own shitty reality shows, there's a big fucking difference.

Now back to this shitty, shitty, ever-so-shitty book. This book is to cooking what Bernanke is to your American economy. Do I need to know that some no-name loser contestant loves to use a certain kind of spatula? Does anyone care what Padma Lakshmi has to say about anything -- especially cookery?

4/9/2008 11:28 AM, None of your fucking business
8 comments

Go buy a bag of peanuts and never come back

By Gordon Ramsay

Bio & Blog

Seems like some of the critics are not too keen on my new restaurant, called Plane Food, in Heathrow Airport. Like Jan Moir, a former critic for The Daily Telegraph, who is now running her own website called "Are You Ready to Order?"

Yes, I'm ready to fucking order. I'm ready to fucking order a critic with a clue. But I suppose I'll be waiting a bloody long time for that exotic delicacy to arrive at my table. Oh, I'm ready to fucking order; how about a nice "Bananas Foster Jan Moir" flambeed tableside. With a blowtorch.

I love the fucking "critic-speak" these gormless idiots use. Take this nugget from Moir's hatchet job of Plane Food: "the crab itself is pasty and unconvincing as a main ingredient."

Unconvincing? What the fuck are you talking about? It's not Meryl Streep, it's crab. It's not supposed to act or convince you of anything. It's supposed to be scooped the fuck up on your fork and eaten, you twit! It's crab! My word, people like her and Frank Bruni need to be stopped. The bullshit that spews forth from their keyboards is utterly mind-numbing.

4/1/2008 11:02 AM, London
9 comments

Give me another fucking shot

By Gordon Ramsay

Bio & Blog

Chef Paul Prudhomme, the guy who does that Cajun or Creole food or whatever the fuck that shit is down there, got shot the other day. Really not shot. They think a falling bullet just landed on the guy's arm. No real injury and it seems to be a pretty innocent mistake. Prudhomme was setting up to cook outdoors at a golf tournament when he was grazed by a .22 caliber bullet -- apparently from a hunter. But if you ask me, it could have been anyone using ammunition from these idiots.

But however the fuck it happened is no matter. No one should be fucking surprised that he got hit. With all due respect to Chef Prudhomme, he's a pretty fucking big target, yes? But I like the guy -- he seems like a good bloke.

3/28/2008 3:13 PM, New York
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