The 10 Best Episodes of <em>The Bear</em>, Ranked

In the harsh morning light after the Bear's soft opening, Carmy muses over the things in his life that led him to getting locked inside a refrigerator. Directed by The Bear stalwart Christopher Storer, "Tomorrow"—the premiere of season 3—impressively avoids the usual fast-food origin story BS. Instead, Carmy's fragmented memories come together like a mosaic, a collection of recollections that unfold in order of feeling rather than their place in a chronological timeline.

"Dogs" comes early enough in season 1 when you're maybe still asking yourself: Am I committing to this? Boiling-hot arguments and food porn? The utterly funny "Dogs" is an oft-overlooked early episode. It's light on consequences and spiritually the closest The Bear ever comes to feeling like a traditional sitcom. But its darkly comedic A-story—Carmy and Richie cater a kids birthday party and accidentally serve Xanax-spiked Ecto-Coolers—with a heavier B-story rooted in growth and respect makes for a contrast few shows can pull off. "Dogs" is a promise the best is yet to come.

You can tell everyone at Original Beef has seen some shit. They don't blink when a bullet rips through their front window. But the world around them is changing; a Sweetgreen is opening down the street. "Ceres," so named after the goddess of agriculture but also a legendary dive near the market district, is a marker of change for The Bear as its characters transition from their old world of meat slop into whatever Carmy has cooking in his head. Of greatest concern is Richie, whose pathetic boorishness is reinforced before his great metamorphosis in season 2.

As serene as breakfast, "Omelette" eases up to let its characters breathe for once. Mostly. After one (1) panic attack for Carmy, his biggest problem is that Natalie has invited their mother to the soft opening. But the true heart of the episode lies with Carmy and Sydney meeting as equals in a gorgeous one-take scene of them screwing—screwing a table together, mind you, though the metaphor is obvious. In a show where everyone screams about what's eating them up, it's refreshing and even exciting to see them whisper under the furniture for once.

Marcus, the gentle giant with a taste for doughnuts, embarks on his own journey in "Honeydew," a standout season 2 episode directed by Ramy Youssef. Marcus reluctantly leaves his bedridden mother for Copenhagen to apprentice under one of Carmy's culinary connects, Luca (Will Poulter). Poulter is superb, but it's Lionel Boyce who shines as the ever-curious Marcus soaks in his Danish surroundings like a sponge. Where Marcus was once low-key annoying for prioritizing pastries over helping his coworkers put out fires, "Honeydew" indulges the sweetness of a man elevating his passion.

Marcus isn't the only one in season 2 to refine their skills elsewhere. With the Bear's grand opening upon them, Ebon Moss-Bachrach's brash but lovable Richie is sent by Carmy to train at another upscale restaurant in the neighborhood, Ever. Though resentful of waking up at 6:00 a.m. to shine spoons (and then devastated to learn his ex-wife is moving on), Richie ultimately recognizes real. And real happiness and purpose is what he finds in the kitchen of Ever. Call it a love story.

Roll your eyes at that Sufjan Stevens "Chicago" needle drop all you want. The Bear loves the city where it takes place, absorbing by osmosis its characteristic grit and restlessness. "Review" is the episode that cemented the loyalties of many Bear viewers, with an ambitious one-off where tensions rise to unprecedented levels. Predating The Pitt and arriving just before one-take sequences became a painful streaming-era gimmick, "Review" lives up to that familiar cliché: If you can't stand the heat, get the fuck out of the kitchen.

The Bear has shown time and again that while its main characters are Carmy and Sydney, they don't have to be protagonists all the time. In the acclaimed season 3 episode "Napkins," helmed by The Bear's own Ayo Edebiri, Liza Colón-Zaya (who won an Emmy for her performance in the season) takes the spotlight in Tina's "origin story" at the Bear. A laid-off office worker stranded in a sea of LinkedIn profiles and not-so-subtle ageism, Tina and her story illustrate the generational gap with beautiful sincerity and empathy.

Only The Bear can cook up a Christmas episode and make it the most stressful hour of television you've ever seen. A flashback episode set five years before season 1, "Fishes" plops viewers into the crowded Berzatto home for the Feast of the Seven Fishes. Sitting around the table is a star-studded ensemble, among them Jamie Lee Curtis as mentally ill matriarch Donna, whose breakdowns ripple like atomic detonations. A family drama that unravels like a horror thriller, "Fishes" sizzles and simmers before the fire engulfs them all.

It took only three words for The Bear to seize its place in the canon of all-time TV greats: "Let it rip."As Carmy's efforts to turn the Beef into an upright restaurant seem too out of reach, he is given cryptic advice from the grave to use smaller cans of tomato sauce for a spaghetti recipe. Masterfully ending on a close-up of a smiling Jon Bernthal set to Radiohead's "Let Go," "Braciole" is a lot like its resolution: a wealth of riches sealed deep in the sauce.