The Bear fans, are you starving for something fresh, passionate, and actually moving the story forward? Enter Carême, Apple TV+’s sinfully delectable French historical drama that might just be the palate cleanser prestige TV needs in 2025.
Where The Bear once thrilled us with its tightly coiled chaos, it has since gone downhill, pretending to be good TV. Meanwhile, Carême has burst onto the scene in its powdered-wig glory, spinning the true story of the world’s first celebrity chef, Antonin Carême, into something at once opulent, sexy, and narratively satisfying.
The difference? Carême doesn’t confuse angst for depth. In just a few episodes, it’s delivered more character momentum, political stakes, and yes, dessert porn, than The Bear managed across all of Season 3.
In a week where Étoile underwhelmed, Carême serves drama hotter than a copper pan fresh off the stove. And it knows it.
The Bear has lost the plot, so enter: Carême
Let’s not sugarcoat it: The Bear has curdled. Once a vibrant and sharply directed ode to working-class kitchens and trauma-laced ambition, it now feels, as Slate argues, like a mixtape of prestige clichés: overcooked monologues, underwritten women, and more Wilco needle-drops than any Chicago restaurant deserves.
By Season 3, the characters are stuck in place like sous vide bags floating in a lukewarm bath. There’s a baby. A restaurant rebrand. Some yelling. More yelling. But is there any growth? Not really.
Richie (Ebon Moss-Bachrach) is still the best part of the show—and one of the only reasons it remains remotely watchable. But Carmy (Jeremy Allen White)? A loop of grief, self-loathing, and kitchen meltdowns, increasingly disconnected from anything resembling stakes. The Bear now feels like a culinary mood board with no real meal at the end.
Meanwhile, Carême walks in like a confident rival chef mid-service. It’s not just beautiful; it’s bursting with intrigue, sex, ambition, and surprise. It respects its audience by offering real narrative momentum. Carême’s journey through post-revolution France is fueled by more than cream and custard—it’s a battle for legacy, love, and surviving Napoleon.
This might just be the prestige food show The Bear fans deserve
Apple TV+ clearly knows what it’s doing here. The opening scene—yes, the whipped cream one—is a statement. This isn’t just food as metaphor; it’s food as sensual rebellion.
Bastien Bouillon plays the young chef like he’s already tasted greatness but knows what it will cost him to hold onto it. The series is unapologetically French, joyfully indulgent, and shot with the kind of elegance that The Bear once hinted at but abandoned for shaky handhelds and endless montages.
The best part? Carême understands that cooking is about the transformation of ingredients, yes, but also of self.
Unlike The Bear, which now feels obsessed with aesthetics, Carême’s style only helps enhance real stakes: class, power, betrayal, and desire. If The Bear Season 3 was drowning in its self-importance, Carême is dancing through history with a knife in one hand and a crème brûlée torch in the other.
So, if you’re a fan of The Bear (looking for a show that actually delivers the emotion and artistry it promises), Carême is the French cousin you didn’t know you needed, but won’t want to let go of.
Stream Carême on Apple TV+.
