Chef Ramsay is back in Baltimore,

Philadelphia, and New Jersey...

Holy crap.

Where he checks in

on some of his biggest challenges he has ever faced.

Smell it! Oh!

They were the most disgusting...

That's fucking older than me!

Dysfunctional...

Eighty-six the French fries!

And most distraught restaurants

in Kitchen Nightmare's history.

It ain't her fault. It's my fucking fault.

First, we return to Cafe Hon in Hampden, Maryland.

Could I have everybody's attention?

The owner was caught in a nasty battle with the community.

I was afraid for my life.

What? Death threats?

And her staff was ready to revolt.

You're a rude bitch.

Then we'll visit Chiarella's in Philadelphia...

Put it up! Let's go!

Where the family business was so bad,

that one owner had completely lost his confidence...

I just stay in bed 'cause I'm afraid to get up.

While his wife had completely lost her patience.

All right, now I'm getting mad!

And lastly, Chef Ramsay travels

to Montclair, New Jersey, to get an update on Leone's...

Under no circumstances can we continue

to serve food.

I'm sad to say

that we're closing down Leone's for the night.

Where a lazy owner...

The major problem here is there's no manager,

nobody in control of this restaurant.

It's hard for me to really show passion.

Was ruining a restaurant that his mother

had worked so hard to build.

We've already drowned.

Get ready for a night of surprising updates...

Can I talk about that?

As we find out who stayed

on the road to success and who veered off,

turning a restaurant back into a nightmare.

Oh, I'm pissed off.

What is that? You're serving rotten food!

We could possibly kill them.

- Then wake up! - You wake up!

Shut the place down!

Get out of here!

That is amazing!

I can't take anymore.

Thank you, Chef.

Sync and corrections by n17t01 www.addic7ed.com

As soon as I leave a restaurant, I'm always wondering

whether or not they stuck to the plan,

and I know you do, also.

Tonight, I'm going to show you three restaurants

I visited last year, and you're going to be surprised

at what I found out.

First up, Cafe Hon, in Baltimore.

Hampden, Maryland, a suburb of Baltimore.

When I first arrived, I visited a local radio station

to find out restaurant owner

Denise Whiting was at war with the community.

She had trademarked the term "hon,"

which is a cultural icon of Baltimore.

She was threatening businesses with lawsuits.

The lawsuits? I mean, it went that far?

She demanded legal fees from somebody

that was making tourist stuff with just the word "hon" on it.

After finding out what I was in for...

I mean, she's almost become the anti-hon.

Yes.

It was time to go to Cafe Hon and actually meet the owner.

All right. I want everybody's attention.

Can I have everybody's attention?

But, before I made it inside, I was faced with a giant--

and I mean a giant-- pink flamingo.

Holy mackerel. Wow, wow, wow, wow, wow.

I'd hoped that the restaurant wasn't on its last leg as well.

I desperately needed to hear Denise's side of the story.

The problem is, I federally registered

"The Hon" as a-- as a trademark.

People scream at me from across the street.

Just horrible things.

It's got that bad?

I mean, I was afraid for my life.

Did you not sue anyone?

I never sued anybody.

You didn't sue anybody?

No.

Did you threaten to sue anybody?

No.

But Denise wasn't telling me the truth.

I've done my homework before I got here.

I did-- I-- you know what--

See, you're not being fair now.

After setting her straight,

the next step for me was to taste the food.

Then I met my lovely server, Amanda.

Amanda, love the hair. Beautiful.

Thank you.

And, oh, boy. Her hair was hon-derful.

Wow. Look at you.

They sure do love their hairspray in Baltimore.

The batter's soggy.

It doesn't stick to the fish.

Sadly, the food was atrocious.

It's like a flamingo turd just landed on my plate.

It's dreadful.

And then these stone cold shrimp.

Horrible.

He said the shrimp tastes--

had, like, a weird aftertaste to it,

like, almost tasted like the refrigerator.

Really? I don't understand.

This is perfect.

Perfect?

Trust me, they were far from perfect.

And I could tell already I was gonna have my hands full

with Denise.

That night, at dinner service...

This is asparagus. All right?

I'm tired of seeing the asparagus

different kinds of ways.

- You cut off the ends... - Oh, my God.

...and you blanche them.

I could not believe how Denise ran her restaurant.

Any turkey on the board, eighty-six the turkey.

She was eighty-sixing the whole fricking menu.

Eighty-six biscuits, you guys.

Item...

Eighty-six the pot pie.

After item...

Eighty-six the catfish.

After item.

Eighty-six the French fries.

I thought she was going to eighty-six me next.

Eighty-six the steak.

We don't have steak.

Oh, my God. I'm going to die.

That was a disaster.

How could you let it go this far?

After seeing how bad a leader Denise was,

I decided to talk to her staff about her behavior.

She goes up to one-- to the girls,

and tells them they're stupid,

or she gets up to my face,

"tell her to fix her hair."

She focuses on a lot of the superficial things.

She micromanages.

It was clear that

her very loyal staff were deeply affected by her actions.

It was time to confront Denise.

Denise, you, um...

You're a rude bitch.

Ouch.

And I'm tired of it.

Denise, you're the negative in the restaurant.

People don't like you.

They did not hold back,

but that is exactly what Denise needed to hear.

I'm sorry that I've been

a bit overbearing.

To lose this business

would be for me to lose my soul.

And I can only say

that this is the beginning of a new day.

Denise's apology was a step in the right direction.

But the bigger issue was her relationship

with her community.

So I hatched a plan.

I put together a select group of people

that I'd like you to hear from.

Okay.