Gordon Ramsay hits the City of Brotherly Love to solve the latest in culinary and business problems in the new season of Kitchen Nightmares.
Like all great grumps, Gordon Ramsay has a big heart beneath the bluster.
You're not likely to witness his softer side on Hell's Kitchen - either the original U.K. edition or the American knockoff - in which he seems to derive inordinate pleasure in berating the amateur chefs who dare venture into his domain. And the TV chef was certainly all grim business during last month's interactive Fox special Gordon Ramsay: Cookalong Live.
But the kinder, gentler Ramsay always surfaces, eventually, on Kitchen Nightmares (tonight, Fox at 9 p.m.), very likely because he's also a restaurateur who's owned and operated more than three dozen fine-dining establishments over the years. Speaking from experience, he knows more eateries fail than succeed.
"You'd have to be mad to want to own a restaurant," said Ramsay at the recent TV critics tour in Pasadena, Calif. "You have to go in prepared to take a loss, and that could be the case for the first few years. You have to have the fire and passion for it to make it a success. This is not a business for impatient people."
Perhaps now more than ever. Back for a third season, Kitchen Nightmares is also based on a popular British series and holds true to the format: Each episode follows Ramsay spending one week trying to turn around a restaurant on its last legs. The fact the new season was filmed early last year - in the middle of the global economic downturn - turned out to be a happy accident.
"Honestly, the credit crunch has been a breath of fresh air because it's removed the arrogance from the food industry and helped focus on the customer. Without them, we're screwed," said Ramsay.
Paying customers, of course, are the lifeblood of any restaurant, as shown in the first new show. The season opener takes Ramsay to Philadelphia, the city of brotherly love and the location of a foundering restaurant called The Hot Potato Café. Despite a prime location, the place is empty when Ramsay walks in midday, and just as empty at the dinner hour. Not a good thing.
A recap reveals that the Hot Potato Café was opened two years ago by sisters Claire and Kathryn, who brought in their sister-in-law Erin as third partner. All three women kicked in their life savings but the place has been a money pit since then. They can't even afford to pay the insurance.
As in every outing in the series, Ramsay meets with the owners and the café's problems are revealed. The women couldn't afford to hire an experienced cook, so they brought in Kathryn's niece, Danielle, who is 21 with no chef experience.
Even worse: Soon after opening, the local Philly paper published a scathing review, labelling the restaurant "Spuddy Hell." The customer drop-off began the next day and now the place is nearly a quarter of a million dollars in debt. Foreclosure seems imminent.
Thereafter comes the Ramsay expertise, which is dispensed with uncustomary benevolence. "'Spuddy Hell' was being very kind," he says, "because the food is dreadful." (For Ramsay, that's being nice.) With only the occasional expletive, Ramsay points out that everything on the menu is being cooked from frozen. He tells the women they have to get passionate about the food, "because I can't work with corpses."
When needed, Ramsay applies tough love. When the owners stand idly, acting helpless, during a lacklustre dinner service, Ramsay gives up and walks out - for the first time in the show's history. "If you three don't care, why should I care?" he says.
But he comes back, and the next day, in small ways, he begins the turnaround. Ramsay overhauls the Hot Potato's menu to include - what a concept! - potatoes.
Ramsay also points out the women are serving enormous portions, with each entrée being the equivalent of two or three entrees; the plates are the size of tires! He brings in a master chef to mentor the Hot Potato's rookie chef, which elicits tears of gratitude. Somehow he wrangles the Idaho Potato Commission into donating free taters for three months, in order to cut costs.
By the end of the week, a miracle has been performed. The Hot Potato looks much hipper, with a new lounge area and tables, and new - much smaller - plates. On re-launch night, Ramsay cautions the owners not to fuss over the same newspaper critic who panned them previously, who has returned to write a new review. And instead of taking the spotlight, Ramsay stays in the kitchen and lets the owners absorb the glory of the moment.
"There's an immense sense of personal satisfaction when one of these restaurants manages to bounce back," said Ramsay. "It doesn't happen all the time, but when it does, it feels very good indeed."
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