‘Ted Lasso’ Season 3, Episode 7 Recap: Restaurant Week

Season 3, Episode 7: ‘The Strings That Bind Us’

The episode opens upon a sunny London morning, with stores opening to the lovely song “Dreams” by the Cranberries. And not just any stores: a bakery featuring a rainbow of macaroons in the window; a florist shop whose fragrant, colorful wares are being laid out for the day.

An ever-training Jamie is pulling Roy on (of course!) a bicycle, while the latter growls “Mush!” And Nate, whom we didn’t see at all in last week’s Amsterdam episode, pauses as he passes his favorite restaurant, A Taste of Athens. He waves to Jade, the once-hostile hostess with whom he shared some conciliatory baklava and wine two episodes ago, after his model-date ditched him. Jade is surprised at the attention but waves back, and Nate smiles more happily than we’ve seen him since, a season ago? Longer? Oh, the heck with it, let’s go on directly from here.

Nate

I won’t lie. It’s nice to see Nate smile again, and not just any smile: the smile of innocence and insecurity that all but defined his character in Season 1. Jade’s abrupt transformation over baklava may have strained credulity, but it was nonetheless the kind of understated feel-good moment that has long been a “Ted Lasso” specialty. My ongoing prediction that Good Nate would ultimately overcome Bad Nate is looking more and more likely. (A bit more on this — and on what was arguably missing from this episode — in a moment.)

Later, Nate’s mother texts to urge him not to forget his sister’s birthday, and he recommends A Taste of Athens, his treat. Now, he would almost certainly have done this under any circumstances: He has made abundantly clear that the restaurant is his family’s default for celebrations of any kind. But now it’s also clear that he has another motive in addition.

No such luck, however. Mom has decided to cook at home. “Please don’t be late. You know how your father gets,” she texts, in a brief reminder that Nate’s dad is one of the show’s many problematic fathers.

So Nate distracts himself like any lovestruck fool in the age of smartphones, asking Siri, “How can you tell if a girl likes you or is just being kind to you?” The succinct answer supplied by Apple’s engineers: “You can’t.”

This is not, of course, how Siri responds to this particular query in real life — I asked my own iPhone the same question and was presented with multiple websites on the topic. And yes, I now fear that some distant corporate subroutine will begin inundating me with ads for dating sites.

But back to Nate, who asks his mother and sister the same question at dinner and receives precisely the same response. But after his father, niece and brother-in-law have left, Nate’s sister cajoles his mother into sharing with him the “map” his father had made for her before their first date, showing how they had been growing closer — in geographic terms, to be clear — for years. It’s settled. Nate will ask Jade out.

His first effort, however, is abortive. “There’s something I’d like to ask you,” he stammers, “umm … would you … excuse me one moment?” He takes a quick trip to the bathroom — I can’t be the only one who was pleading “Please don’t spit on the mirror!” — where he has an epiphany. Like his father, he will construct a grand gesture-cum-visual-aid to woo Jade.

So he puts the decorative-shoebox skills he has honed with his niece to work. And though the box is crushed in the street, Jade says yes to dinner and, despite Nate’s fears, does not stand him up.

So, what, as I suggested above, did I think was missing? We only saw half of Nate’s ongoing evolution. He is apparently reverting back toward Good Nate but what does that look like at work, particularly in relation to his boss, the Mephistophelean sleazeball Rupert? We don’t know. Glimpses of what remains of Bad Nate will have to wait for another episode.

Sam

We first see Sam visiting his own restaurant, Ola, where he asks his chef, Simi (Precious Mustapha), whether there’s an open table on Friday. After a rowdy laugh, she replies that the place is “booked for months. The ‘waiting list’ is a lie we tell people.” But when told that Sam’s “very special guest” is his father, traveling all the way from Nigeria, she agrees to work something out. Yes! Sam’s dad, whom we’ve only heard over the phone to date! The best father — with the possible exception of Higgins, whose parenting of five boys we rarely witness — on a show full of lousy ones!

Simi, meanwhile, is furious that the (fictional) U.K. Home Secretary, Brinda Barot, is turning away a boatload of Nigerian refugees from English shores. So Sam being Sam, he sends a mild tweet intended to appeal to her “better angels.” Barot’s Twitter reply, however, falls decidedly short of angelic: “Footballers should leave the politics to us and just shut up and dribble.” For those who may not recall, the show is directly channeling a 2018 quote from the Fox News host Laura Ingraham, who said the NBA stars LeBron James and Kevin Durant should leave politics alone and “shut up and dribble.”

The tweets escalate on both sides, until Sam, on the day of his father’s arrival, goes by the restaurant to find it in ruins: the door smashed in, mirrors shattered, tables and chairs broken into kindling. But Sam’s father (played by Nonso Anozie, whom I remember best as the actor saddled with the line “I invoke Sumai” in Season 2 of “Game of Thrones”) preaches patience and forgiveness. “Don’t fight back, fight forward,” he counsels.

At the end of the episode, Sam takes his father to see the fractured restaurant, only to find his teammates hard at work repairing it. Now, I confess I’d spent much of the episode trying to remember why Sam had named the restaurant “Ola”; I was planning to recheck Episode 3 and even last season for clues. But no need. When Simi introduces herself to “Mr. Obisanya,” he is having none of it. “Call me ‘Ola,’” he tells her. The look on his face when Bumbercatch re-illuminates the restaurant’s sign is utterly endearing, but still less endearing than the groove he gets into with Sam in the kitchen just before the credits roll.

Keeley and Jack

Presumably having Aurora-Borealised to their hearts’ content last episode, Keeley and Jack mostly limit themselves to coffee this time around, even if those coffees involve signed Jane Austen first editions and jewelry-filled pastry. In between, Keeley — who’d confided to Jack her love of daisies — returns to an office overflowing with them. She is being “love-bombed,” as Rebecca explains, overwhelmed with grand, expensive gestures.

A brief aside: When Rebecca compares this love-bombing by Jack to her own wooing by Rupert so many years ago, it is surely a bad sign, no matter how quickly it is waved away. But it also paints Rebecca, deliberately or not, in a somewhat less than appealing light. She accepted a Jaguar from Rupert on their second date? And upon learning that Jack is paying for her and Keeley’s dinner, Rebecca — who is, of course, herself fabulously rich — puts two bottles of 1934 Chateau Cheval Blanc St. Emilion Premier Grand Cru on the tab to go? They sell online for about $2,000 a pop! (Also, is it just me or is it a tad stalker-y for Jack to secretly pay for Keeley and Rebecca’s dinner?)

Earlier, in Keeley’s office — the on-again, off-again gag about the opacity of Keeley’s window was a bit much — she wondered about the nature of having a relationship with her boss. (This was the scene for which I waited in vain during last season’s Rebecca-Sam relationship; more on that later.) Jack replies, “We can’t get in trouble because we’re two consenting adults” — this is quite untrue — “and because I’m get-away-with-murder rich.” Which is probably true, but not terribly becoming. And when Keeley presses and Jack compares herself to “everyone connected with Epstein” — well, that’s not the comparison I would be looking for in a romantic partner.

Is it just me, or do Rebecca’s Jaguar and Keeley’s Jane Austen, flowers and diamond ring (however quickly returned) stand in stark and probably deliberate contrast to Nate’s grand gesture of a shoe box with glued-on glitter and stars? I see red flags aplenty here — I hadn’t even mentioned Rebecca’s “Sometimes shiny things can tarnish” line — and I’m not sure that any level of love-blindness will ultimately turn them green.

The Team

This was the episode’s weakest link. Following Ted’s hallucinatory reinvention of the Dutch star Johan Cruyff’s 1970s strategy “Total Football” last episode, the coaching staff begins drilling the team in its principles in preparation for their very next match.

The first practice, on “conditioning,” is fine. Ditto the second one, on “versatility,” although no matter how “total” Total Football may be, it does not involve swapping out your goalkeeper, especially not in favor of the team’s shortest player. (The Beard-Will swap was modestly amusing, though, and kept to the requisite small dose.)

But the “awareness” practice in which the players used red string to tie themselves to one another’s man parts? Count me out. Humor this broad — see also Isaac’s corner kick into Higgin’s office window — has never been a strong suit for “Ted Lasso.” (Given that the show based its episode title on this gag, the writers evidently disagree.)

Total Football proves to be a disaster during the first half of the team’s match against Arsenal, with Richmond players colliding all over the field. But at halftime, Good Jamie — who’s beginning to prompt the question “How good can he get?” — suggests he become a facilitator rather than a scorer. And though the team still loses, this plan unleashes a “symphony,” in the words of the match commentators, “with Tartt in the role of conductor.”

That said, my favorite part of this story line was Ted’s response when an incredulous Trent asked him if he really intended to swap strategies midseason: “It’s kind of like going on a hike with Robert Frost. It could go either way.”

Odds & ends

• See? I’m not alone in doubting the propriety of last season’s Sam-Rebecca relationship. Sam’s father clearly agrees, and I’ll happily be on Team Ola any day of the week.

• Speaking of Rebecca: She confirms that she and last episode’s mysterious Dutchman did not have sex but shared something that “transcended sex.” It was “Gezelligheid.” Alas, that’s all we get this episode. I, for one, still hope for more.

• For all of Nate’s positive evolution this episode, it’s still a little disturbing to discover that he’s programmed Siri to address him as “Wunderkind.” He still has a ways to go.

• I’m sorry, but going back to the early-ish scene of Beard and Ted in the pub: There is no way Ted Lasso knows what “pegging” is. If you don’t know either, feel free to look it up, with caution.

• In response to Ted’s suggestion that if he’d kept an early beard, he and Coach Beard would look like a ZZ Top cover band, Roy dubs them “Sharp Dressed Men,” before catching himself: “God, I hate what you’ve done to me.” His Sasquatch-themed pun is even better, if unrepeatable here.

• I mentioned the Cranberries’ “Dreams”.” This was a particularly musical episode, also featuring (among others) the Monkees’ relatively obscure “Sometime in the Morning,” Ray Charles’s “What Would I Do Without You,” Smokey Robinson’s “You Really Got a Hold on Me,” John Fogerty’s “Centerfield,” Primal Scream’s “Rocks,” Supergrass’s “Alright,” and Snoh Aalegra’s “Find Someone Like You.”