spicery

On the stage of the old, gold-trimmed theatre, we see a modern, steelblue kitchen and a philosophical argument between two chefs. One of them is raging on, screaming his heart out, every other word that crosses his lips is an expletive, a bombardment of curse words, son of a bitch and and his numerous relatives.

The audience is convulsing with laughter. The pleasure is palpable as the chains that bind are burst apart with each laugh. These forbidden fruits are delicious! Vulgarities are running rampant in this sacred space, the crudeness of the gutter running its big mouth in this fine salon. The fourth wall was torn down long ago, the invited dinner guests peek inside the pot and add their own two cents. There can never be too many cooks in the kitchen when it comes to theatre. They are comrades in arms, who know the weight of each word in a secret language, which is every language there is.

Translated into English by Lynnette Polcyn