‘The Bear’ Season 3 Episode 9 Recap: “Apologies”

If you’re like me, you’ve spent this entire season hanging from a cliff, waiting to find out if  Carmy will apologize to anyone.  Maybe Claire. Or Richie. Or Syd. Or perhaps even the grill pans he’s tossed. 

But in this episode, two other significant plots are in play here. 

One, will Sydney take the Shapiro offer and jump from The Bear? 

And, two—will Marcus make a dessert in the shape of Ricky Jay’s head? 

(I love Ricky Jay, too, but they’re pulverizing this whole legerdemain metaphor into poussière.)

But the episode is called “Apologies” because we all need to offer and receive them, or else the world becomes a miserable place to live. We find out early on that Carmy’s excuse for not apologizing to Claire so far is that it’s hard. And at the beginning of this episode, Carmy is knee-deep in ugliness, breaking down cardboard boxes with the moronic Fak brothers, who are urging Carmy to call Claire. Because they’re idiots, the Faks suggest that maybe Claire is haunting everyone, and that’s why The Bear is struggling. Carmy initially dismisses it as nonsense, but he can’t deny that his life is falling apart. 

Why apologizing is such an impossibility for Carmy has yet to be revealed. We know that his family life was emotionally abusive, as were some of the kitchens he’s worked in. Outside of a few drop-ins to Al-Anon, he’s still got some work to do—despite the Popeye arms, he’s still not fully developed (emotionally). 

In the meantime, as I mentioned in a prior recap, an easy solution appeared to be in place.

Seriously, what happened to that move? Can’t Carmy drive to the hospital and make that little gesture to Claire while she’s resetting someone’s broken femur? It’s better than nothing.

In addition to the Claire drama, the restaurant stress is eating Carmy up from the inside out.  He’s yelling and screaming on the line more than usual—this cook’s fucked, the wagyu needs a re-fire, fucking faster on this, fucking fuckballs on that. There are not enough hands to take food out or people in the dining room to eat it. And to foreshadow what I can only assume to be the gruesome, haunted murders of all the back-of-the-house staff, there is a shot of sloshing soapy water running over the countertops and onto the floor that reminded me of the tidal wave of blood exiting the elevator of the Overlook Hotel.

Sydney has her own yips when it comes to hard conversations—she can’t figure out how to tell Carmy she’s interested in the Shapiro gig. She won’t finish the DocuSign to own a piece of The Bear, but she also won’t walk away from it to pursue what appears to be a more fulfilling and lucrative opportunity with Shapiro. 

When she finally has one-on-one time with Carmy while they plan the menu for the following day, she appears to stop short of telling him because she’s too annoyed by his moodiness and undermining. Carmy senses her frustration and acknowledges that sometimes he hasn’t been easy to keep up with. Maybe out of guilt and desperation to stay on Sydney’s good side, he invites her to the Ever funeral dinner so she can mingle with a roomful of super chefs, including Shapiro. Sydney’s guilt creeps in, but she still says nothing. 

After she leaves for the night, Carmy decides to sack up and make the overdue apology to Claire. So he steps back into the lonely and austere office of the walk-in fridge to call her. He stares intently at her name on the phone, thumbs jiggling, but he never hits the call button. He is soft as hell. 

More foot-dragging! Richie still hasn’t officially RSVP’d to Frank and Tiffany’s wedding. After a co-parenting meetup at the playground, it’s clear Tiffany wants him there, and Richie intends to be there, but he just can’t make it official. He appears to be stalling because once he does commit to attending, it will be a concession. Richie thinks Frank’s a nice guy, but he’s also his taller, richer, kinder replacement, and it stings badly.

Cicero shows up unannounced to talk with Carmy about the dwindling finances of The Bear and—in the friendliest way possible—tells him that he’ll have to “cut the fucking string” on his investment if the Chicago Tribune gives them a bad review.  

We discover soon after the convo that Cicero has already gotten word from The Computer that the restaurant is already as good as dead.  The Computer realizes that Cicero didn’t give Carmy the whole story and insists that he go back and tell the truth. “Apologize. Tell him you love him and make it up to him down the road—but this is this.” 

So that’s FOUR major characters who cannot be honest with themselves. Carmy with his feelings; Sydney with her ambitions; Richie with heartbreak; Cicero with shame. The restaurant would have difficulty surviving if ONE of these essential employees was shading the truth. The Bear can only survive if everyone gets honest real quick. If not—REDRUM, lizards. 

THE BEAR SEASON 3 EPISODE 9: LEFTOVERS

QUESTIONS I STILL HAVE:  Has The Bear already burned through $850k of Cicero’s money? What’s it been two months? Maybe they should fire Marcus. Those magic-filled pastries he’s creating look costly.

MIDDLE-AGED DAD NEEDLE-DROP: “A Murder of One” by Counting Crows. This is the “August and Everything After” tune real CC heads mess with. “Round Here” is for Dads who like Matchbox 20. 

CARMY ARM PORN: Boxes Out, Guns out. 

A.J. Daulerio is a Los Angeles-based writer and editor. He is also the founder of The Small Bow, a recovery newsletter.