There’s Nothing Half-Baked About 'Carême'

Carême wants you to think that it’s a show about the self-invention of France’s first celebrity chef, who was also a scruffy, yet gentlemanly, amateur spy of surprisingly great consequence in the Napoleonic era. It isn’t not that, but this show’s engine runs on sexiness, and I’m pleased to report that it begins precisely as it means to go on: with a taste test gauging the subtle distinctions between two different styles of whipped cream, which handily doubles as foreplay. 

Both aspects of the encounter between Marie-Antoine Carême (Antonin to his friends, played by Benjamin Voisin) and his lover Henriette (Lyna Khoudri) are played with total sincerity and commitment, because tiny nuances of flavor and texture are important in every kind of social interaction! Everything this man does is undertaken with the utmost care and precision, and creative flair! His entire life is art! 

(I shudder to think of how challenging his laundry must be.) 

The real-life Antonin Carême became a celebrity chef before the phrase existed, and codified many of the practices and dishes that we still associate with haute cuisine: the chef’s toque and double-breasted jacket, the four mother sauces, the lightness of pastry, “Yes, chef!” — we have him to thank and/or blame for them all. We get to see his fictional counterpart pursuing the same rigorous commitment to perfection, pursuing excellence, and creating beautiful things because those are intrinsically worthwhile things to do. 

Antonin is far less invested in using his skills and creativity as a launching pad into the kitchens of the Tuileries and Hôtel de Gallifet; however, fate quickly forces his hand as his beloved adoptive father and mentor, Bailly, is arrested without charge and whisked away to an undisclosed location. As the gendarmes are dragging him away, Bailly tells Antonin to seek out the famously wily diplomat and noble Talleyrand (Jérémie Renier). The guy owes Bailly a favor and will help both him and Antonin. Talleyrand immediately puts Antonin to work for him, first at the Tuileries and later in his own kitchens, leveraging the young man’s quick thinking abilities as well as his superior cooking for his own political gain. 

Throughout the first three episodes that comprise Carême’s series premiere, we follow our hero as he becomes a figure of fascination across Paris, and an increasingly crafty spy for Talleyrand, using food and sex to nudge France’s political landscape this way and that. In the first episode, he drugs Joséphine Bonaparte to rifle through her husband’s desk for the travel route he plans to follow for an upcoming trip to the opera; he also manages to salvage Franco-British relations by preparing and then setting fire to a dessert pyramid. 

If you were wondering, “Is this the kind of show where someone yells, with great urgency and in complete seriousness, ‘We need all the nougat wafer paper we can find!’” The answer is emphatically yes, precisely that kind of show.

Carême is the kind of show where seducing the future empress of France in a 19th-century version of a walk-in fridge and inventing vol-au-vents —a delicate pastry filled with savory ingredients — hold equal significance. Throughout the season, whenever Antonin is faced with a high-stakes cooking challenge, we are treated to a kitchen montage that would make Paul Hollywood and Nancy Meyers swoon. 

Preparation, processing, and plating of dishes are all lovingly documented, as are the pristine workstations and abundant supply of gleaming copper bowls and pans. Profoundly silly things happen in Carême, but the food always merits viewers’ respect. 

Alas, being drawn into Talleyrand’s web of influence and intrigue isn’t all fun and macarons. (To be fair, we do see Antonin demonstrating the proper piping of macarons to ensure that one of his underlings can execute his vision.) Antonin knows that his new patron is manipulating him, and he is not above manipulating right back, revealing that Talleyrand and his longtime lover, Catherine, have a secret daughter. 

The two men are forever collaborating and fighting, maneuvering and distrusting each other, but usually figuring out how to keep themselves out of the dangerously hot water. The man tending the flame under that water is Antonin and Talleyrand’s shared nemesis, the dogged, ferocious Minister of Police, M. Fouché (Micha Lescot, proving once again that playing villains is the most fun an actor can have). 

It’s too bad that these three men never join forces, but even if they could make common cause against some despotic outrage of Bonaparte’s, the whole business of Fouché spending the entire season deploying his network of spies against Antonin and Talleyrand, his habit of maiming or killing anyone who stands in his way would probably make it impossible for them to work together for more than fifteen minutes. 

Indeed, the dynamic among Fouché, Antonin, and Talleyrand reminds me most powerfully of what unfolds in every episode of the actual genius-level Disney Channel cartoon series Phineas & Ferb. The titular stepbrothers spend each of their 104 days of summer vacation creating and building wonderful experiences for their friends – a rollercoaster, a ski resort – while their sister Candace spends each episode trying to bust them, thinking that catching the boys in the act will get them into big trouble with their parents.

Like Fouché, she is single-minded, but is also amusingly thwarted at nearly every turn. Unlike Fouché, she does not muse wistfully about using cannons as a method of execution or use a beautiful overcoat to sweep dramatically in and out of rooms. We can’t have everything!

Ultimately, whether or not you fall under Carême’s spell will be determined by your appetite (not sorry!) for historically fanciful chef-as-spy storytelling. The ingredients (again: no apologies!) are all there, waiting for you to test them out. I’ve loaded up my plate and can’t wait to tuck in.

Carême’s first two episodes are streaming on Apple TV+ starting Wednesday, April 30, 2025. The series will continue with one episode a week, arriving on Wednesdays through mid-June.