GK: this portion of the show brought to you by the Cafe Boeuf Nashville, where the elite meet to eat...




GK: Antoine-- please. Don't.

TR (FRENCH): What? You do not wish me to kiss you on both cheeks?

GK: No.

TR (FRENCH): But monsieur. I am French--

GK: Look. You've kissed me on the cheek before and it was very nice but we're moving on, now, okay?

TR (FRENCH):Very well. Then cordial greetings, monsieur, and my sincere respects to your family and those whom you permit to be intimate with your cheeks.

GK: Thank you, Antoine.

TR (FRENCH): Come, I have saved for you a table in a secluded corner spot. (FOOTSTEPS)

GK: The cafe is busy tonight.

TR (FRENCH): Yes, people of Nashville are discovering French cooking and learning not to fear the unusual ingredient.

GK: Oh good. Unusual ingredients like what?


GK: It's something about chicken, right. The kidneys? The gall bladder? The lungs?

TR (FRENCH): Chicken feet. Boiled chicken feet with the (FRENCH).

GK: Oh good grief....

TR (FRENCH): You eat the fingers of the chicken, why not the feet?

GK: I'd like the boeuf, please.

TR (FRENCH): You are passing up a work of art -- a (FRENCH).

GK: A beef. Medium.

TR (FRENCH): Chicken feet de Provence, with prune pate between the toes and a gentle mist of coriander.

GK: Beef.

TR (FRENCH): A taste. Please.

GK: Beef steak.

TR (FRENCH): It is on the house.

GK: Let go of my shoulder.

TR (FRENCH): Okay. No chicken feet. Instead, I bring you the (FRENCH)

GK: Beef. Well done.

TR (FRENCH): I insist. (FRENCH)

GK: It's tripe, isn't it.

TR (FRENCH): Brains. Fried brains of the chicken. It's beautiful. (FRENCH)

GK: Steak.


GK: That's the Cafe Boeuf. Where the elite meet to eat.