The Menu Explained – What the Cheeseburger Really Means

Chef Slowik is an internationally renowned cook in charge of an exclusive restaurant on a private island. He’s able to charge $1250 a head, freely experiment with his dishes and command an adoring staff. At first glance, it seems as if he has reached the absolute pinnacle of his craft, achieving everything an aspiring restaurateur could ever dream of. Yet we soon learn that things aren’t quite as rosy as they seem. Slowik is, in fact, being exploited. 

Just look at each of the guests that are invited to dine at Hawthorn that fateful night.  

• Lillian (the critic) and Ted (the publisher) suck the pleasure out of cooking by using it to advance their careers. They hunt for their next scoop by inventing new words, finding minor faults and reading into everything that the chef does. 
• The finance bros embezzle money into their own pockets instead of supporting Slowik and the restaurant staff, the ones that are actually producing value.
• The angel investor commodifies Slowik’s craft, leading to the chef’s creative decisions being compromised in the pursuit of profit
• The billionaire regulars only dine at Hawthorn so that they can maintain their status as elites, without actually caring about the food being served. 
• Tyler uses the fame of Slowik and his restaurant to uphold his identity as a man of wealth and taste that supposedly knows everything about fine dining.
• The movie star uses Hawthorn as practice for an upcoming food show that might revive his own career, without really noticing what he’s each eating. 

Each of the diners are takers. Not only do they physically take the food that they are given, but they also take the opportunities of dining at an elite restaurant to further their own goals and stroke their own egos. This is all done at the expense of Slowik who has gradually seen all the pleasure drain from his art. He no longer enjoys making food and serving his customers.

The only one that doesn’t use Hawthorn for their own gain is Margot. This is something that baffles Slowik. He has become so accustomed to guests exploiting him that the minute someone refuses to “take”, he becomes suspicious. Of course, it soon becomes clear why Margot doesn’t “take”. She herself is a service worker in disguise.

Using the emotional intelligence that she’s learned in her career as an escort, Margot is able to deduce the parasitic relationship that links each of Slowik’s guests. She is also able to discover that once upon a time, Slowik was able to find joy and fulfilment in his craft. Not when he was making overcomplicated dishes designed to placate delicate egos and fill out pretentious magazine articles, but when he was making simple food that people actually wanted to eat.

Of course the embodiment of this simple, delightful food is the mighty cheeseburger. To some, most notably snobs, it may seem mundane and mass-produced especially when compared to haute-cuisine, but to others it is simply a tasty treat that can be exquisite if made well. This parallels the world of fine art, where genres such as still life were historically looked down upon when compared to more high-brow art forms like religious painting. Of course this didn’t stop great artists like Cezanne from finding joy in painting the same apples over and over again. 

Gifted with a unique insight into the chef’s life, Margot can see that Slowik was truly happy when he was simply flipping burgers at Hamburger Howie’s back in the late 1980s. Since then, it’s clear that he’s been pressured to elevate his craft to the rigorous standards expected by the status-obsessed customers and critics that he now serves. Standards that he still cannot meet.

With this knowledge, Margot gives Slowik the opportunity to do something that he has been craving. To cook a meal that his customer actually wants. Despite its simplicity as a dish, the chef clearly finds far more joy in cooking a burger than anything else he’s cooked that evening. He gives attention to every detail, right down to the type of fry, and the qualities of the cheese that he’s melting. The straightforward task of making a cheeseburger reminds Slowik of why he began cooking and why he fell in love with it. The simple act of preparing a simple meal for someone who is truly grateful for it. Like Cezanne, Slowik is liberated by completely disregarding the hierarchy of art, and plainly enjoying the process of making. 

Instead of taking away from the art, as have all of the other guests, Margot has actually given something back to Slowik. She has given him a Proustian moment, transporting him back to a time when he could just make good food without any fear of judgement. This is why Margot is allowed to escape, and keep her cheeseburger.