All language subtitles for N.S01E03.The Truth of the Breaded Cutlet [eng]

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Well, sir, I'm leaving now.
I won't bother you again.

Thank you for everything.

I'd say that if you want,
you can leave your things in the bedroom.

I don't understand, sir. Why?

I've been thinking more about the matter,

and I think there are
lots of things to do in this house.

Groceries, cooking, clothes, and so on...

It's not that I can't do it by myself,

I just don't have time to do it all.

So are you hiring me?

Yes, girl.

What? OK, OK,
it's not that big of a deal.

Do me a favor.

Go to the butcher's and buy a whole loin
to prepare breaded cutlet.

Yes, sir. Right away.

Thank you so much, sir.

Boludo.

Pelotudo.

Boludo and pelotudo
are two key words

if you ever go to Buenos Aires.

They are insults.
"Boludo" is softer and friendlier,

you can say it without being offensive,
even affectionate.

For example, to a friend, you can say
"che, boludo" as a greeting.

Boludo literally means
you have big balls. Bo-lu-do.

Then, there is pelotudo,
another insult, but this one is heavier.

It also means
you have big and heavy balls,

but it's clearly much more
aggressive than boludo.

The sound alone
is more aggressive: pe-lo-tu-do.

Manuel is a great puteador.

The insults in his mouth are multiplied
a hundredfold in power and grace.

He fires them with the precision
of a well-oiled machine gun.

Boludo!

Pelotudo!

NOTHING

Nada.

Episode three:

The truth of the breaded cutlet.
La verdad de la milanesa.

Revealing with
moral superiority an unappealable truth

that until now
was kept hidden from others.

For breaded cutlets,
always use loin.

If the butcher offers you shoulder,
he's underestimating you.

And if he offers you sirloin,
he's a snob.

Rump steak, never. It's too dry.

Round is always a good choice.

In my case, at this point in my life,
I won't take less than loin.

Is it a waste? Perhaps.

Is it an act of ostentation?
I don't care.

Well, it's all yours. Clean it.

Now, a longitudinal cut.

So we can have quite large steaks.

So you are good at handling knives.

You picked it up in prison?

No, sir.
What are you saying?

The thing is, my first job
was at a meat packer in Concepci�n.

Here, just follow Celsa's recipe.

Keep it always at hand.

Add to the mixture
one level tablespoon of mustard.

It's got to be Dijon,
which is Mr. Manuel's favorite.

After that, salt
and freshly ground black pepper.

Bear in mind: Do not add
chopped parsley and garlic to the eggs.

We add and mix them with the breadcrumbs.

Pardon me, sir, but it seems
that there's a mistake in the annotation.

It says that the parsley and garlic
go with the breadcrumbs,

-but don't they go in the mix?
-No, no, no.

No, everyone puts them in the mix,

but Celsa redefined 200 years
of breaded cutlet history

by adding the parsley and garlic
to the breadcrumbs.

Alright!

Tell me, why did you leave
the meat packer?

I didn't leave. I was fired.

When I got pregnant with my girl,

they fired me
the moment they noticed my belly.

So I went back to Guarambar�.

Alright.

No, no, no!

I see you have the egg-bread
Argentinian impulse.

The key to a good breaded cutlet
is bread-egg-bread.

The first time in the bread
will remove the moisture.

Next, dip it in the mixture.

After that, one more time in the bread,
so we get a nice golden brown.

Yes?

Oh, yes, dear! I'll be there in a second.

It's Ignacio. He went to retrieve the car.

The perks of having a lawyer friend.
I'll be right back.

Finish the breaded cutlet
and make some mashed potatoes.

Yes, sir. I'll start the oven.

Don't even think about it.
I want them fried!

Hm.

The breaded cutlet...

is very good.

Perfect.

The potatoes could have more butter
and a bit more nutmeg,

but it's really good! Very nice!

Artichokes:Buy them
in the second half of October,

when they are the best.

After the first week of November,
stop buying them until the next year.

Kitchen utensils:

The master prefers to clean
the stainless steel utensils

with a cloth soaked in alcohol vinegar.

Bronze ones, preferably using toothpaste

to give them a perfect polish.

Wooden ones, always with olive oil.

Beware:Never use abrasive liquids
on aluminum utensils

like vinegar or ammonia
because they leave stains.

Are you famous or something?

Are you the food critic?

Yes, sir. Among other things.

I always thought that being a critic
must be a great job.

You eat for free at the best restaurants.

If in the end, you didn't like the food,
you just ate for free...

Yeah, but it's not exactly like that.

Twenty or thirty years ago,
a bad meal wasn't a big deal,

but now I have a finite number of meals
ahead of me.

Each one I don't enjoy takes the place

of one that could have been incredible!

I hadn't thought about it that way.

This model you want to sell,
is it an '83 or '84?

-1982.
-What a shame!

It's such a fine line. This model
is too old to be sold as a used car,

but too new
to be sold as a collector's item.

It's wicked, but we'll see.

On top of that,
this intense egg-yolk yellow, good grief.

-What's wrong with the color?
-It's controversial.

The ones that sell the most are gray,
blue, even the black ones, but this one...

I chose this color myself.

There is no disputing about taste.

There absolutely is disputing about taste.

That is my whole career.

Hm.

-May I?
-Of course.

-Is this the original upholstery?
-Yes, of course.

One can tell.
This mummy stench won't ever go away.

It's the carpets that picked up the smell.
You just change them and it's gone.

One problem with these models
is the transmission.

They always break.

Did you ever have problems?

What do I know? I don't remember.

Has the mileage been tweaked?

It says 62,000.

Is this real?

Of course it's real.

This car has not been used a lot.

Barely 1,000 kilometers a year.
That's nothing.

It has never even left the city proper.

But this is actually a disadvantage.

These cars, when you don't use them...
they fall apart.

The gaskets, the seals dry up,
the pistons get rusted.

-How much do you want for it?
-25,000.

-Dollars?
-No, rupees.

You can't ask that much. It's crazy.
This model is not worth all that.

I can pay you 15,000 at most.

No, 25.

Just because it's you,
I could offer 17,000.

Twenty-five.

You're too stubborn.
To be honest...

At a loss, 18. Nothing more.

Don't bother bargaining.
This car is no longer for sale.

-Why?
-I'm not going to sell it for 17,

or 18, 19, 20,
neither for 30 nor 50 grand.

Not to you.

Don't get upset.

Remember what I told you about the meals?

Well, it's the same for me with people.

That's why I get so fucking angry
that I've lost 30 minutes with you.

That's how it is?

How is it my fault
if you have a shitty car for sale?

You think it's a collector's item,

but it's just an old car. Period.

The truth is you've wasted my time too,
you jerk!

Fuck you.

How was it?

Awful.

Because I was thinking...

remember that you told me

I couldn't work here if I couldn't drive?

I thought that maybe
I could practice a little

and then get my license,

so I can take you everywhere,
just like Celsa did.

But can you get a license?

What is your legal situation?

I have an unstable residency certificate,

while I wait for
the temporary residence document.

But I've done some research,

and with this certificate,
I can get my license.

Alright.

You'll see that I'm a fast learner!

And I'll be the best driver.

And you'll want me to take you everywhere!

Alright. I admire your drive,

but let's take it slow.

Let's do this. I'll ask Grace

if she can give you a couple of lessons.

If she does not object,
I won't either.

Try now.
Let's see if you can park well.

Use the mirrors to look behind.

The mirrors, yes, of course.

How have you been handling Manuel?

You can tell me the truth.

Very well!
I've been learning a lot, really!

Does he treat you well?

Are you OK with being his driver?

Yes, it was my idea!

Anything new that I can learn
will always make me happy!

Well, I ask you because I'm his friend,

but I was also his partner for a while.

So I know the exact magnitude of
how annoying this old man can be.

No. He is nice. Very nice!

He is nice. I have no doubts.

But he can get on your nerves.

Just take it easy... and you'll be fine.

If anything happens, you can tell me, OK?

Yes, ma'am.

A bit better.

You did a lot of maneuvers,

but they must be three.
Let's try again.

Do not go straight?

Yes. But don't ask. State it.

-Do not go straight.
-Yes.

Roundabout.

Very good.

Split road.

Very good.

No pedestrians.

No. Wrong.

No humans allowed to exist.

But I read...

No, girl.
How I wish for such a sign to exist,

but no... I was just joking.

You were correct.

You're going to do great tomorrow!

I don't know. I'm very nervous.

Don't worry, damn it!

CODE OF TRAFFIC REGULATIONS

One, two, three, four, five.

The five central ribs.

The rest is to be used to make soup.

The fat goes on the griddle.

We place the strip on the very hot grill.

It grills...

on both sides.

Add a speck of salt.

We press it.

We add a generous tablespoon of butter.

We rub a bread slice on the griddle

to lift us up from what just happened.

We add some chimichurri.

Flanken-cut short ribs, ready.

Time to eat!

So?

I passed!

Yes, goddamn it!

I expected nothing less!

Yes, I'm happy because it's
the first thing I've done well

since I've arrived in Buenos Aires.

I want to thank you, sir.

No need to.

This deserves a celebration!

Let's have dinner tonight
at a beautiful place.

And you'll drive.

What would you like to eat?

A hot dog!

A hot dog?

Sure, why not?

A hot dog!

I'll take you to eat the best hot dog
in all of Buenos Aires!

Good evening, Manuel,
how are you?

How are you, dear?

Can I get two, my way?

On it.

You'll see.

Tomorrow, when you prepare my meds,

add a trimebutine pill

because this is really good,
but it's poison.

Just in case, you take one too.

Yes, sir.

This is perfect, Julito!
The bread is great!

Thank you, dear!

Do you know the whole city, sir?

You have a lot of friends.

More than enough for eight handles.

Eight what?

Coffin handles!

It's what my grandma always says.

One needs to have
at least eight true friends

so when you die, you have eight people
to hold the eight coffin handles.

Holy shit, what a pragmatic grandma!

I offer to hold one handle for you.

Seven left!

Thanks, but I'll pass.

You won't have that pleasure...
I'll just be cremated.

Those hot dogs are great.

But next time, I want to take you out
for a real dinner.

On Thursday,
I'm having dinner with the club.

This time, we must all bring a guest
under 30 years old.

It sounds a bit ridiculous, but, oh well.

Will you come?

The thing is, sir, on Thursday
is my cousin's birthday,

and I wanted to go see her, if that's OK.

No, no problem. Don't worry!

You're not missing out on anything.

We're just five old decadent folks

always talking about the same things.

JUSTICE FOR ALE

Hey there.

Do you remember me?

No, I'm sorry.

I'm the waitress who served you
the other day in Porchester.

Oh! The one from the happy cows.

Exactly.

I'm in a bit of a rush, I'm sorry.

They fired me, you know?

-Are you kidding me?
-No.

The owner read your review

and said it was my fault,
that I didn't do my job.

Well, tell him to call me and I'll explain

that you served us really well,

and that my review
was only directed to the shitty food

they serve in that place.

No need to.
I was going to leave anyway.

The place had bad vibes.
They treated us badly, the pay was low.

But, oh well, since I've bumped into you,

you know so many people in the business,

maybe you could
write a recommendation,

or if someone is looking for a waitress...

Sure! I'll do that! Great.

Ok, thank you. Wait! Don't go!

I'm doing a dreamcatcher workshop at home.

It's very beautiful and...

Here's my phone. My name is Paloma.

Great. Perfect.
If I know anything, I'll call you.

-Thank you.
-I'm sorry, but how old are you?

I'm 28, why?

First of all, welcome
to the bimonthly meeting

of the Epicurean Circle.

For those of you who don't know,

the club only has five members.

Mr. Manuel Tamayo Prats,

Mr. Ignacio Virasoro,

Mrs. Grace Figueroa,

Mr. Carlos Martineli,

and me, Fern�n Montaigne.

To break the monotony
and open things up a bit,

we created assignments
for each of our meetings.

For today, we agreed on bringing a guest

whose age was 30 or younger.

So, I'll ask the members
to introduce their guests, please.

This is Felix, he is 20 years old.

He's my youngest, and studies Sociology
at the University of Buenos Aires.

Hello, nice to meet you.

This is Pedro, he's 30 years old,
and he is a flight attendant.

Hello. How are you?

Emilio, my partner, architect.

No, no! Stop! Excuse me.

Grace, what's your connection
to the boy?

He's a friend.

You don't say.

And her? Who is she?
I think I know her from somewhere.

-This is Pamela.
-Paloma.

Paloma, yes, she's 28 years old.

She's an expert in cows,

and is also a waitress,
I mean, she was a waitress.

I remember now.

The girl from the happy cows.

-Sure.
-Yes.

Now she does workshops of...
what now?

They are dreamcatcher crafting
workshops,

and a little bit about the balance

of the dream world.

That.

Well, this is Juan, my nephew.

Hello, how are you?

I think Juan was my nephew too
at some point.

-That's mean.
-It's just a joke.

Well, I'll explain
for those who don't know.

It's very simple.

You eat. And at the end,
you criticize it.

But any comment or analysis

is strictly forbidden during the meal.

Hmm? Only at the end.

Well, this is the menu

that the directives have approved
for the night.

Entries: beetroots with salt,
Indian granola, and coriander.

First course: foie p�t�.

Thank you.

Andean potatoes and lavender jelly.

Second course:

Quebracho wagyu flank steak,

mushrooms, and chimichurri topping.

Dessert: white chocolate cream,
San Juan black olives,

and pears with chamomile syrup.

Well, I would like to thank you all
for the invitation and congratulate you

because... actually, meetings like this

are the ideal countercultural exercises
to generate political awareness.

Excuse me?

I'm saying that by inviting the youth,
opening for the collective,

you are fighting against the individualism

typical of neoliberal hegemony.

So, cheers!

Cheers!

Cheers to new friends.

My dear, can you explain,

what would this neoliberal hegemony
be exactly?

Manuel!

Why? I want to hear him.

I'm interested. Tell me, boy.

Yes, sure! Well, the neoliberal hegemony

is the articulation of concentrated powers

in favor of ferocious individualism.
Privatist, meritocratic, right?

To the detriment of the present state.

Oof.

And we fight
this discursive capitalist model

with a new social contract.

Yeah.
-Let's say, a collective dream,

where solidarity comes first,
and equality of opportunities

act as new ethical-social horizons.

Stop it, Manuel.

Is he mocking me?

No, no. Don't worry about him.

He is 20 years old, don't be maladroit.

And what about it?

Antonia, the girl working
at my house now,

is the same age and she's brilliant.

Manuel, please,
I think you've drunk a little too much!

You're talking bullshit!

No, Dad, it's ok. I will...

No, pardon me. I won't let
this old snob trash-talk you.

What you like is to watch from above
and vomit your truths

over a boy who doesn't
have the capacity to respond.

Who do you think you are
with that moral superiority?

Your decadent character
was fun for a while,

but have crossed the line.

Could you stop it?

You're the one
making your son look stupid!

Jumping ahead to defend him.

He has every right to be
a bit dumb, like we all were.

-It's normal.
-Stop being so condescending!

You want to look good,
but you're a secondhand dandy!

Phony bastard!

If you'll excuse me, I'll be leaving.

Manuel.
-I prefer not to share the table

with this ape.

So, good night to everyone.

And, boy,

try not to repeat so much bullshit.

At least try to come up
with your own bullshit.

I say that with affection.

Well, enough preaching.
Where are the pears?

And you...
go to la concha de la lora!

Manuel.

La concha de la lora.

Hm, bye.

Another great insult.

The literal translation would be
"the parrot's vagina,"

but the translation is useless.

It doesn't have the poetry or the power of
"la concha de la lora."

A variant of the same insult,
also very used,

is "la concha de tu madre."

That is to say,
"your mother's vagina."

This one is a little more aggressive,
and more transcendent,

since it refers
to the origin of the human being.

PALOMA :
Manuel!

VINCENT: Anyway,
I like better "la concha de la lora."

It's pure poetry.

I could never use it myself in public,

but in Manuel's mouth, it's music.

A tango.

La concha...

de la lora.

Wait!

I'm sorry about putting you through that.

No, are you kidding me?

You were incredible!

I loved it.

Seriously.

What are you doing now?

I have no idea.

Do you want to come to my place?

I mean, not my place, it's rented,

but the guys are having a party.

There are DJs, music, drinks...
everything.

Are you coming?

-Let's go.
-Really?

-Yes.
-My bike's there.

Let's go.

There you go.

-Hold on tight!
-Yes, yes.

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