Gwyneth Paltrow Makes Chicken Goop.com with Abby Elliott

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Abby Elliott

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Funny Or Die

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The video opens with a screenshot of Gwyneth Paltrow’s website, goop.com. The shot cuts to Abby Elliott standing in a kitchen.

Abby Elliott: Hi, I’m Gwyneth Paltrow and this is goop, my blog. My friend Sophia Coppola told me I should make a video, so today I’m going to be making roasted chicken. And everybody loves chicken, well, except my friend Stella McCartney. She’s disgusted by chicken. She’s repulsed by it. She throws up. So now we’re going to start deboning the chicken. Madonna taught me how to do this. You actually take a very sharp scissors and go along the back.

Abby Elliott cuts the chicken with the scissors.

Abby Elliott: Fuck! I just got chicken juice on my Kabbalah string.

Abby Elliott washes the Kabbalah string and looks sad.

Abby Elliott: Put a little Purell on it.

Abby Elliott puts Purell on the Kabbalah string

Abby Elliott: Now we’re going to cut the lemons. This is actually an ancient Hindu custom I learned in India from my good friend Deepak Chopra.

Abby Elliott chops the lemon in half with a knife.

Abby Elliott: So you just put the lemon juice all in there.

Abby Elliott squeezes the lemon juice onto the chicken.

Abby Elliott: You take your fleur de sel and you can never have enough fleur de sel.

Abby Elliott sprinkles salt onto the chicken.

Abby Elliott: And now your olive oil.

Abby Elliott drizzles olive oil onto the chicken.

Abby Elliot: Beautiful.

The shot cuts to Abby Elliot washing her hands and looking sad. The shot cuts back to Abby Elliot working on the chicken.

Abby Elliott: And now you want to put some tinfoil over it. My friend Wes Anderson taught me how to do this.

Abby Elliott gets out some tinfoil and rips off a piece. She then covers the chicken with the tinfoil.

Abby Elliott: A little more olive oil.

Abby Elliott drizzles olive oil onto the tinfoil that is covering the chicken.

Abby Elliott: Fleur de sel.

Abby Elliott throws some salt onto the olive oil covered tinfoil.

Abby Elliott: Now I’ll put it in the oven.

Abby Elliott puts the chicken into the oven.

Abby Elliott: And heat it.

Abby Elliott presses a number of buttons on the oven as though he has no clue how to make the oven work.

Abby Elliott: Start button. And there you go.

Coldplay’s song The Scientist begins to play and Abby Elliott leans against the oven. She begins to cry and eventually kisses the oven. She checks the chicken and then cries some more.

Abby Elliott: Please stop! Turn that off!

The song stops. The shot cuts to Abby Elliot standing by the counter where she prepared the chicken.

Abby Elliott: I feel inspired to cook all the time. I lie in bed at night and think about different ingredients: chicken.

The shot cuts to Abby Elliott reaching into the oven to pull out the chicken without using potholders. She grabs the pan and jerks her hands back.

Abby Elliot: Ow! Fuck! Ow! Ow! Ow!

The shot cuts to pair of male hands reaching into the oven with potholders. The shot then cuts to Abby Elliott, with heavily bandaged hands, standing at the counter with a half-cooked chicken next to her.

Abby Elliott: And then we just cut it up

Abby Elliott tries in vain to cut the half-cooked chicken and gives up.

Abby Elliott: Voila. Dinner for four.

Abby Elliott pulls a towel out of a drawer and throws it up into the air repeatedly.