That one friend who watches an unhealthy amount of TV has probably told you about The Bear. The show—which follows a three-star chef who returns to Chicago to run his family’s  Italian beef sandwich shop after his brother’s suicide—premiered on Hulu last summer, but it  was this summer’s second season that blasted the comedy-drama into the zeitgeist. And don’t worry: the hype is real. 

The Bear rocks, combining its tragically hilarious writing, heavy-hitting cast, and  claustrophobic direction to create a heartfelt tribute to the restaurant industry. Anyone who has  ever worked in a kitchen will testify to the authenticity of the portrayal, to the chaotic, buzzing  atmosphere of shouts and hand-offs and speedwalking on a Saturday dinner rush. The first  season episode “Review,” filmed in one take, sees everything in the sandwich shop go to a  previously unimaginable level of shit; it was the piece of art that finally made me understand the  meaning of the word “catharsis.”

Even if your culinary experience starts and ends with Top Ramen, The Bear is more than  just “The Restaurant Show.” Though quite funny, it’s a character-driven drama at heart—and a  really, really good one at that. The show depicts the often-unrooted lives of chefs, and the  reasons why these characters answered the calling—and continue to answer—are as interesting  for Carmy, the lead, as they are for a minor character like Ebraheim. If you’re a fan of (the  dramatization of) generational trauma, Carmy’s backstory expands in the second season to  include this modern media honeypot, explaining his anxieties and insecurities with the  bombshell, star-studded “Fishes,” which feels like all the uncomfortable family dinners you’ve  ever had condensed and amalgamated into an hour of hair-graying dread. 

But nothing is perfect, not even The Bear. A consistent gripe I had with the show was its  “cuteness factor.” Carmy’s sister, Natalie, is by far the worst offender, and I grew to actually  hate her character over how many times she called people “My love” or spouted some millennial,  Marvelesque catchphrase like “Okay, so THAT just happened…” The show is funny enough as  is—it shouldn’t feel the need to comment on how funny and wacky and cute it’s being, which  ruins the joke. Thankfully, it’s a small part of an otherwise amazing show. 

Pretty much everyone agrees that The Bear really hits its stride in the second, breakout  season, when—no spoilers—the show arrives at its main plot thread. The season also ends with  something of a cliffhanger, and I can’t wait to tune in for its inevitable return. If you haven’t yet  seen the show, drop whatever you’re doing (sans holding baby) and watch both seasons now. They’ll leave your mouth watering for more. Get it?