https://slama.dev/comeback/
Hi.
Finally.
Ozzak, dinner.
About time.
I was already heating up a can.
Sorry, I had to close up on my own today.
Marcelka's meeting up with classmates.
Oh boy, oh boy.
So what is it?
I'm hungry as a wolf.
Beef in rosehip cream sauce with fresh herbs and bread dumplings.
Yuck.
Iva, can you please tell me why you make it when you know nobody here likes it?
So I'm nobody, huh.
Can't I sometimes make food that I like?
Well, we had salad.
Besides, there must be foods we all like.
Like tomato sauce, right, bro.
Yeah.
No, I'm not eating it, I won't.
I protest against dill sauce and demand that Ozzak and I be firmly warned about dill sauce in advance.
You're already eating it?
Well, now it's almost like tomato sauce.
Thanks for dinner.
Could we watch TV at your place today?
Yeah, come on in.
Is yours broken again?
No, Lexa was trying to tune in foreign channels and now he can't find even ours.
So what?
Do you have anything to eat at home?
Anything without dill?
We had a wheel of cheese until end of the week, but mom took it to the neighbor's for steak tartare.
Wait, so you haven't eaten anything at all?
We looked at all the pictures in the cookbook, all the way to desserts.
I'll heat up some dill sauce for you then.
Yeah.
Lexa, want some dill sauce?
I don't.
Lexa won't have any.
I will.
Mom says food doesn't have to taste good, as long as it's warm.
Here you go.
Oh, thanks, Iva.
Yeah, thanks.
Wow.
Yeah, yum.
It really is terribly hot.
Their pace is reasonable.
Their territory is the pedestrian crossing.
Their weapon is the ticket book.
They're here.
Zebra Eleven.
Finally they've started making proper TV series here too.
This is absolutely unbearable.
Tomorrow I'll have to cook something normal myself.
You say that every time we have dill sauce.
And this time I'll follow through.
I'll bake a pizza.
We all like pizza.
A really big one.
What's wrong with that?
The bigger, the better.
Right, bro.
So big it definitely wouldn't fit in our oven.
Well, I always exaggerate just a tiny bit.
Hey, then how come I always find a pizzeria box in the trash?
You'll meet the heroes of the series Lawlessness and Chaos again next week.
Good God.
What was that?
The Czech version of Law and Order.
It was awful.
Even Inspector Rex is better.
Good evening.
Marcelka.
Tomas.
I have great news for you.
Did you bring open-faced sandwiches?
Something better.
A little cake.
I got you on TV.
Berankova married Vlk.
Who's that?
That host who does When Stars Cook.
Yeah, thanks, Marcelka, but I don't cook.
You're cooking tomorrow.
Don't be overly modest, Tomas, I haven't eaten much from you, but you make excellent pizza.
Those really big ones, right?
Tomas, showing off your skills at the stove in front of the whole nation could really help you.
Besides, I've already signed you up.
Anyway, I have to run.
We want to watch the Croatian version of Dashenka with Zoran.
A wolfhound plays the lead.
What are you going to make?
I was thinking tomato sauce.
Marcelka, could you help me a bit with it?
I haven't made it in a while.
But it's simple.
You make a roux, add broth, cook it, toss in tomato paste, stir out the lumps, and finally gingerbread.
Gingerbread?
I wouldn't expect that in tomato sauce.
My mom swore by it.
And before she put it in, or after?
It's not necessary.
Just roux, broth, tomato paste.
And you're done.
So wait, I won't need this here then.
Well, Tomas, you're going to strain it?
Well, I was thinking something like squeeze it, you know, together.
You'll manage on your own, I'm in a rush, mama is coming from Split.
Well, then you'll finally have Zoran at home, right?
When his mother comes.
Zoran can't stand his mother.
He always promises he'll be home, and then sends a text from New York saying something came up.
Then mama tells me the whole time it's my fault.
See you tomorrow then.
Wait!
What's a roux?
Hey.
What is that?
A whisk.
You wouldn't understand.
I see.
So it'll be tomato sauce.
Tomato sauce.
Or schnitzel.
I also have beef tenderloin as backup.
So I'm going out for a bit and...
But I'll be back for dinner, okay?
Sure.
They were stuck.
I had to pry them loose.
Everything got foggy while I was kneading.
I thought it was from the onions.
No, it's all because of those stupid cookbooks.
They're written in a completely incomprehensible way.
Saute the onions until translucent.
What?
Tomas, those are the basics.
Or let it reduce.
Where should I let it go?
How long is it supposed to walk?
Tomas.
Or a roux.
What the hell is that?
An animal?
Tomas.
Marcelka, I'm not going.
But it can't be canceled, it's already in the schedules.
Tomas, how many dishes can you actually cook?
Three.
Well.
Cottage goulash, beef in its own juices, and Trencin sausage with beans.
But I can handle stirring.
For God's sake, why didn't you say so right away?
You'll end up like Petr Kotvald.
Last year, when his pressure cooker exploded, now every time he sings Geyser, everyone cracks up.
What do we do?
I have to go home.
I'll be grinding meat all night for cevapcici.
Anything for mama.
If you want to inherit a steel mill in Trogir, you have to put in some effort.
Marcelka, mama would love to see her daughter-in-law on TV, wouldn't she?
Well, my sister-in-law Dragana was once on Good Morning Croatia.
And since then I'm allowed to use the informal "you" with his mother on weekends.
You'll see.
And I could bring along a handy assistant.
What?
Excellent idea.
You'll preserve your dignity.
And when mama finds out I'll be on TV, maybe she'll stop calling me meatball.
But you need to know the basics.
Come on.
It was around here somewhere.
It has a fork crossed with a mace on the cover.
Here.
Audio Cookbook of the Army of the Czech Republic?
The fastest audio course on the market.
Makes a chef out of anyone in two days.
In case of mobilization, in 20 minutes.
Narrated by General Chef Otakar Glad.
A recognized expert in quick meals.
For home use, divide ingredient quantities by two and a half thousand.
Army standards for beginners are calculated for a brigade.
Wait, what's that sound?
Something's chirping in my ear.
Probably from thirst.
Those are just my cicadas.
Did she say cicadas?
I know, it's chirping in my ear.
Mama can't fall asleep without them.
My, you're a perfect daughter-in-law.
Mama must be thrilled with you.
I wish.
I'll stick this on her window.
She's always complained about having a view of Prague Castle.
And that's sand?
For the bathtub and the shoes.
She's used to it.
Mamba, yours just escaped.
Yeah.
Man, bro.
Hm?
Didn't know you were such a cook.
Thanks.
Is that charcoal?
Hey, mind your own cicadas.
Are they still in the shop?
Yeah.
Yeah, today they're showing When Stars Cook.
And Uncle Sagvan will be on.
So I can see what I'm getting into?
Whatever Sagvan can do, I can too.
Wow.
Hey, look.
And here's the guest of today's show When Stars Cook, player, rebel, and sex symbol of the '87-'88 season, Mr. Sagvan Tofi.
Everyone with ketchup.
See, I told you the strawberry is red.
Yeah right, I thought it was yellow.
On a color TV, food really looks different.
And he's pretty good with that knife.
Well, slicing onions isn't an easy task, especially when you're holding a cigar in the other hand.
Hopefully we'll manage to stop the bleeding.
And in the meantime, let's see how the duck is doing.
I'm not going on there.
You're going to let Ozzak carry on like this?
For a while it was bearable, I felt like I was on vacation.
Only stuff from Ozzak's collection can drown it out.
Or Felix Holzmann.
That's essential.
We were catching them all morning.
Ozzak got one Beatles anthology.
Is that a mouse?
Yeah, I told him they're not that furry.
I'm curious how Ozzak plans to solve this.
Ozzak already solved it.
He went to the pub.
What's wrong with mama?
I put Valium in her tea.
And I don't like doing it.
She always confuses him with Slobodan Milosevic afterwards.
I was worried something happened to her.
And those clothes?
It's the traditional outfit of a Croatian woman.
When mama sees someone in normal clothes, she thinks they're a tourist.
And she doesn't trust tourists.
Not even you?
Two years ago I wore a burgundy suit and she tried to sell me a carved donkey.
But this year you're perfectly prepared, right?
Not a chance.
I heard her calling Zoran.
She was scolding him for marrying a pale woman.
I need to go to the tanning salon.
Right now.
Marcelka, wait.
What about the cooking?
Didn't you watch it yesterday?
We were pressing oil all evening.
Sagvan was on.
Yeah, I heard on the tram that he made a fool of himself.
Well, he considered it more of an achievement.
Don't worry, Tomas.
Start with Glad and I'll join you.
Go, you call that finely chopped, you beast?
Go, go, go, go.
You should have been done ages ago, lives depend on those onions.
Go, go, go, go.
Goulash?
I don't know.
Cicadas, you say?
Yeah, something like crickets.
But with speakers.
Tons of them!
Tell Tomas to buy some spray then.
They don't stink.
They scream!
What about getting something that eats crickets?
Then we'd have to get something that eats whatever eats crickets.
My buddy Pekl tried that with flies.
And those toads were crawling around in his curtains for another six months.
Until a buzzard flew in.
So how do you want to get rid of them?
Crickets don't like cold.
Sasa, please, don't get involved.
What were you saying?
The cricket played the fiddle all summer, unlike the ants who worked hard all summer long.
Then in winter, the cricket suffers.
Then the first snow whitened the day and the cricket fell, exhausted.
And snow gently falls on his fiddle, as he lies there stiff and still.
A frozen cricket, I like that.
Just wait until December and then open the door.
Mommy, was there some bread in the basket, can I have it?
Sasa, no, that was already moldy yesterday.
If it doesn't start freezing in two days, I'll go crazy.
Wait.
Horvath was offering me an AC unit for a pittance.
I passed because it had "Post Office" written on it.
I don't mind the label.
But I don't have even a pittance.
What if he'd take cash?
Finally, come on.
Marcelka, Glad was not a good idea.
Take this.
I chopped eight kilos of onions and he still demoted me.
Are we alone here?
We're not.
Great.
What happened?
I sat down on the floor.
Did something happen to you?
I wanted to save time, so I was reading a dictionary of Croatian insults in the tanning booth.
So I can understand what mama says to me.
I didn't wear protective goggles.
So what happened?
Fuck your God, suck my dick, eat shit through a straw, Tomas.
I can't see.
Wait.
Acute conjunctivitis.
But by Thursday I should be able to see the outlines of larger objects.
Hold on.
You're blind?
No, when there's light, I can tell.
Then it's over.
I can't cook alone with Glad.
Tomas, Tomas, we'll manage.
When I told mama I'd be on TV, she called Zoran and entrusted him with the first half of the family steel recipe.
Suck it up, Dragana.
Ouch!
Good afternoon, Mr. Ozzak.
Fancy a drink?
Damn Croatian crickets.
It's cold right here, actually.
Nice chill, yeah.
I'll go back and still nothing.
The Croats are building a snow cannon this afternoon.
Got anything to eat here?
Just those bugs.
In Sudan, they apparently make great crisps from them.
Alright then.
How about scrambled eggs?
Scrambling is my forte.
With something so banal, everyone will laugh at you.
Well, we'll rename it then.
We'll call it something fancy, like egg puree a la Paci.
Remember what happened to Dalibor Janda on that Super Cooking Show.
Right.
He made ham and eggs, called it Blueberry Pork Mosaic with an Egg Target, and then spent ten years performing at country fairs.
What's that banging?
A slab of onion.
Glad said it gives you strength before battle.
Tomas, wait!
Wait!
You really have no experience with any food?
Well, at Aunt Gerta's we used to make eintopf.
Well, there you go.
Whenever Ozzak and I carried out the latrine, we were allowed to help stir as a reward.
Eintopf.
German cuisine is all the rage worldwide.
Zoran said at a Parisian restaurant he had pork stuffed with lard.
I'll end up like Sagvan.
Get the oil.
Oil.
Is there anything here called schmaltz?
Never heard of it.
Look at the label.
Universal edible fat, made from petroleum, may contain trace amounts of hooves and hazelnuts.
Perfect.
We've got our oil.
Happy cooking and good evening, friends of fine food and celebrities.
I'm Petr Vlk, I'm hungry, and I welcome you to another episode of your favorite show, When Stars Cook.
Today, former singer Tommy Paci will show us what he can do with a wooden spoon.
And I can already see his family members sitting in the audience, so let me ask right away, where did you come from?
From Prague.
Great.
And here's brother Franta, is that right, people call you Franta, don't they?
No.
You've got, as they say, quite a cold.
What happened, care to tell us?
I was exterminating cicadas.
It's true they're a bit anti-social, but on the other hand...
They sing beautifully.
But too loud.
Let me ask over here.
Where did you come from?
I see you have a basket full of apples, so probably from the countryside...
Hey, you have to give those back.
Oh, I see.
Thank you.
It's presumably some kind of family talisman.
Ten kuna.
Welcome Tommy Paci and his elegant assistant Marcelka.
Tonight it'll be an international evening.
Tommy.
This is Hubert Essl, head chef of Hotel La Coupole.
He'll be judging your dish.
And Tommy, tell us what you'll be cooking today.
I've decided on eintopf.
What do you think?
German cuisine is very popular these days.
At the Ritz in London, I had an excellent sausage stroganoff with truffle headcheese on a bed of iceberg lettuce, naturally lightly digested, leicht Ekel, as they say.
Mr. Essl, could this choice backfire on Tommy?
In the hands of an amateur, German food can turn into a weapon of mass destruction.
Let's hope it doesn't end up like the same slop Michal David produced when he attempted Italian, right?
Ah yes, those notoriously bad ravioli.
But now, the die is cast and we begin.
Aren't there supposed to be labels here?
Licking a spoonful of chili before starting to cook is a ritual of Mexican Indians.
In this gentleman's case, it's probably a cheap, how shall I say.
However, if everything else works out, it might earn him a bonus point.
Why should you be talking?
Time is ticking, Mr. Pacovsky.
You're not talking?
Think, you beast.
Go, go, go, go, lives depend on this.
Move it!
Welcome back to When Stars Cook.
The food is ready, served, and we're waiting for the final verdict from Mr. Hubert Essl.
Who would have thought that Dijon mustard with strawberry jam could create such an interesting flavor arc?
And the finale?
Deliberately, of course.
Listen, my man, you're quite the little virtuoso.
You didn't study under Escoffier, did you?
No, not me.
You should.
You have enormous talent.
Well, I don't know.
But seriously, some bumpkin who can only appreciate tomato sauce with dumplings obviously can't appreciate such haute cuisine.
But in the world, they'd be fighting over you.
My dear man, promise me you'll start cooking.
Yeah, absolutely.
Wait, you really wouldn't criticize anything?
Well...
The task was main course, side dish, and dessert.
However, after the chef's brother provided those exquisite Sudanese crisps, and that lady from the audience those beautiful apples at a reasonable price, I have no choice but to award full marks.
Mama.
So, what's it going to be tonight?
Egg puree a la Paci.
Bon appetit.
Finally, a change.
I was getting sick of your scrambled eggs.
That's mothers for you.