Even though it’s animated, the food, and the discussion around the making of the food, and the description of the ingredients that go into the food, and the passion in Patton Oswalt’s rat voice when he professes his adoration of food, it all still feels real. It’s as real to the stomach as the emotional “Married Life” sequence in Up is to the heart or whatever part of your body you use to feel feelings. The bread and butter of this movie though, so to speak, comes in its climactic scene where crotchety food critic Anton Ego tastes a piece of Remy’s carefully made ratatouille and it transports him back to his childhood, where his mother would make the dish for him after mishaps like bike accidents or no doubt when other children would make fun of him for his name or Nightmare Before Christmas-esque physical features. It doesn’t fill his stomach in one bite like lembas bread but it seems to fill his heart and mind with memories and affection. And it fills my eyeballs with mist. I want to find food that does this for me.
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