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Poor Tony looks sicker than anyone, the greenish tint of the mold likely reminding him of the piles of money he wasted on this result. Gordon orders Dino and Tina to get their asses into the dining room and apologize to the guests, but Tina flees, so Dino goes out and tells all ten customers that Gordon has shut down the restaurant for the night. Gordon rips into him for that lie, and Dino just stands there and blinks. Then Gordon strides into the dining room with the vat of moldy sauce and shows everyone exactly what’s up. He says he’s not shutting down, but stopping the owners from serving them poison.
Tony is rightfully pissed, and goes outside so he can have a breakdown in peace without disowning and/or murdering his entire legacy. Gordon joins him and apologizes, but Tony isn’t mad at him—he’s just sick of working his ass off to watch his kids piss away his hard-earned. I don’t know about you, but I can hardly blame him. I’d have backhanded someone right around the time the rotten chicken was discovered. Tony vows to get involved and make sure things change, and Gordon agrees to stay and help out for his sake.
He sits down with all three of them and tells the kids they’re not living up to expectations and are unappreciative of what they’ve been handed. Tony says if things don’t start looking up, he’s going to pull the plug on the entire endeavor. Tina apologizes and promises she’ll do whatever is needed to turn things around. Dino says essentially the same thing, but this is really one of those situations that proves that people who don’t specifically train for the restaurant business have no business opening a damn restaurant. Dino doesn’t even know what changes need to be made. I’m no expert, but I have a suggestion or two: how about you start by checking the food for penicillin, and maybe taking sand blaster to the damn dining room? Baby steps, folks.
Gordon’s remodel team takes over, turning the place into a vision of American Bistro ambience. I’m pretty sure the place looked like that to begin with, but it was buried under a layer of grease and dirt and dead skin, and whatever the fuck else was coating the walls. He’s also gotten a sponsor to throw in a computer system and Chef Chris. Chris even brought his wife, Jen, along to run the front of house. To top it off, Gordon has outfitted the kitchen with new equipment, so they can fry up that fermented chicken in style. With a kitchen like this, he says, there’s no excuse to serve swill.
Gordon’s new menu is devoid of most things Italian, including the Jesus sauce, and hopefully Chris can teach the rest of the kitchen staff how to cook and store the foodstuffs so they don’t end up with a stack of dead customers to add to the grit that will surely reaccumulate in that dining room. Before they open, Tony sits down with his kids and basically warns them that if they fuck up now after all this, he’s pulling his wallet out of the equation.