Original subtitles

Daddy, can you make more popcorn?

Oh, Tina, Daddy's tired, but there's plenty on my shirt.

Okay.

Ted, don't let her eat off your shirt like that. That's gross.

You go make some for her.

When you're done with her shirt, there's some more by his feet.

Can I see everyone in the kitchen, please?

Uh, no, but you can see us all on the couch. Hi, Mom.

I guess more ribs for me, then. Ribs?

Wait a minute. I don't smell ribs. Kids, don't go in there. It's a trap.

Everyone have a seat.

Now, who can tell me what is wrong with this picture?

There's no ribs.

For the past week, I've been conducting an experiment. I have left this big,

disgusting roasting pan right here in the middle of the table to see how long

would take before someone bothered to clean it out.

Actually, if you wanted to make the experiment correct, you'd have to have a

control group.

Everyone just assumes that if there's raw food, it's my job to cook it. If

there's something dirty around here, it is my job to clean it. What do I need to

do? Hire a tiny little grease man to stand up in the middle of the pan and

please clean me.

Tiny little grease man.

I do everything around here. I buy the food. I cook the food. And sometimes, if

I'm very quick, I even get to eat the food. But you know what? I've had enough

tonight. I'm going to go into the other room, and I'm going to watch TV.

And when and if I ever do come back into this kitchen, this roasting pan better

be clean.

Well, you heard.

Looks like your mother officially reached her limit.

Now, who had her cracking after seven days?

I did.

Pay up.

Because it makes me happy.

Here you go, Fit.

A little afternoon snack, something to take the edge off.

I don't know if you've looked at me lately, but I don't got any edges.

Mmm. Holy God, Bill, what is this?

Pasta puttanesca.

It's Italian.

Pasta with puttanesca.

You like it?

Like it?

It's alive with flavors.

Mmm. How do you learn how to cook this?

Well, one night I turned the TV on, and there was a little late -night cable

show called Debbie Does Dinner.

Unfortunately, Debbie was 72, and dinner was dinner.

This is great.

I can't believe you learned how to make it from one show.

Actually, I've been watching it ever since. Last night I learned how to make

pulled pork, which also isn't what I thought it was.

That's why Judy doesn't make them cooked every night.

Oh, well, that's because as far as Judy's concerned, I can't cook, I can't

car. What I can do is fake a hell of a sneeze.

So she thinks I'm allergic to laundry detergent.

God bless you.

You can get out of a lot of work just by acting clueless. You know, I do the

same thing with Miriam, only not with chores.

I tend to cut corners on certain preliminary aspects of our lovemaking.

Oh.

Well, when it comes to the main event, I am quite proficient.

Uh -huh, uh -huh.

Tender when required, vigorous if desired.

Can you be quiet?

Oh, yeah, but I can also be quite vocal. Fitz, Fitz.

Hey, Dad.

What? Nobody's supposed to be home for hours.

What are you doing?

I need to hide the evidence. Oh, no, no, I'm eating my evidence. Give it up, old

Fitz, you son of a... Brian, what are you doing home so early?

Oh, I hurt my shoulder in gym class.

What were you playing?

Apparently, a game called Pile on Brian because we asked the teacher for a pop

quiz.

Mom had to pick me up.

Mom's here, too?

Yeah, she's bringing in the trash cans.

What smells so good?

What are you talking?

Smells like Italian food in here.

Well, I was walking home and I tripped in a garlic field.

Wow, Dad, this sauce looks really good. Did you cook this? You saw nothing here

today, Brian.

You hear me?

You did cook.

Some sort of... Pot the dish with olive and capers.

Puttanesca!

He knows what this is, too? Why am I the Johnny -come -lately -to -the

-puttanesca party?

Dad, this is great.

How come you never cook for us? Because I told you I can't cook.

Oh, I get it. You're afraid Mom will find out and make you pull your weight

around here.

Brian, I'm not going to lie to you.

Mostly because I can't think of a good one right now.

No, wait.

Now, just don't say anything to your mother. What's in it for me?

What's in it for you? The fact that I'm your father and you will respect me.

Hey, guys. See, I can cook.

Okay, Lauren is now my firstborn son.

He's been hiding it from you to get out of work. He made this great pasta.

Bill, is this true?

Well, I made pasta, but it's not that great.

It's delicious, you jackass.

Oh, I can make one thing, big deal. One incredibly delicious thing.

That is it. You, my friend, are cooking dinner tomorrow night.

And not just a sandwich, something good, like duck or something.

Duck? I can't possibly cook duck. It'd take hours to marinate. You know what

marinating is?

And, you know, you were right. There's nothing wrong with me helping out around

here. Actually, it's kind of fun. Oh, the fun wears off around your 10 ,000th

meatloaf. But you've got to waste it. Whoa, whoa, whoa. No picking. Round

everybody up.

Come on in, kids. Dad took care of dinner.

Yay, pizza.

No, he made a meal.

Yay, frozen pizza.

No, a real dinner with real food.

She did?

Dad can cook. I broke the story.

Tonight, it's chicken cacciatore in a plum tomato sauce with just a touch of

basil. Dig in. Don't be shy.

It's different.

It's really a... It's really...

the recipe exactly.

Oh, Bill, don't beat yourself up. You tried.

Kids, why don't you go in the other room and order a pizza?

Yay, pizza!

Oh, man, I can't believe this.

Well, maybe you can only make the one pasta dish.

Oh, you think that's it? I'm a one -trick pony?

Did taste a lot like pony.

You know what? Maybe we should put this cooking thing on hold for a while. I

guess. I feel terrible.

Oh, Bill, it wasn't that bad.

More like dodged it.

What happened? I found out Bill was pretending he couldn't cook so I'd never

him to. So then tonight he cooked dinner and it turned out awful.

So I guess that means he'll go back to lying around while I go back to doing

the...

happens to be the most comfortable seat in the house.

Taste it.

Just as I suspected. It's delicious.

You made two versions of the same meal. A bill batch and a botch batch.

You can't prove that.

What's that dinging sound?

Why does it smell like garlic toast in here?

Dinging sound? The smell of toast? Sounds like someone's having a stroke.

toaster oven doing in the shower?

Getting ready for work.

Bill, this was incredible.

Thanks, honey.

I have got to hand it to you.

You lied to me. You tried to trick me.

But once I found you eating in the bathroom and threatened to hit you with

toaster oven, you reluctantly did the right thing.

Well, that's how I was raised.

So I guess me telling Mom you could cook turned out great for everyone. Yeah,

except you, narc.

There you go, son.

Dad, this is really good.

Thanks. It's a little recipe I found in the food section.

Braised beef Bordeaux.

Tina, Tina, what are you doing? Just getting some salt. It's already

seasoned, honey. If you want more salt, go out and lick the driveway.

So, Bill, how can we ever thank you for making such a delicious meal?

Well, you could all clean up the kitchen. Okay, who wants good ice cream?

If you're frisking me for biscuits, they're a little lower.

No, I just want to thank you for all your hard work.

I had two hours free today because I didn't have to go to the market or cook.

went to the bookstore and browsed.

No problem. I love it. It takes my greatest love in life, food, and

with my second favorite thing, eating.

Where do I fall in there, Bill?

You're tied with beer, but don't ask where football is.

Well, what do you say we go upstairs and I try to break the tie?

Just give me ten minutes. I need to sauté these vegetables for the stock and

bring them down to a low bubble so they'll be ready for tomorrow.

Oh, okay.

What? You don't mind if I borrow this, do you?

No. No, go right ahead. I'll be upstairs.

What are you doing?

Just tying my bouquet garni.

It's delicate work.

Get in there, parsley.

I gotcha.

Now, uh, where's my ribbon?

Oh, boy, that took a while. What were you doing down there?

Sorry, I was just oiling my paella pan for tomorrow.

Why don't you bring those oily hands over here and I'll put them to work.

I'm still wearing the apron.

Oh, jeez. You know, you can take it off me if you like.

Why don't you just take it off? Okay, gotcha.

Ah, that's better. Get over here.

Now, what do you want more than anything in the world?

Ooh, uh, a thermo -alloy stockpot.

You know what?

Let's not talk. You're right.

Let me just untie your nightie, my little bouquet garni.

What's the matter?

Uh, nothing.

Good. So you're ready to turn on the naked shit?

Okay, everything all right?

Sure, yeah, yeah. It's just that I'm so full. I can't eat like that every night.

You know what, honey?

Tomorrow I'll cook. No, no, no, no. You stay out of my kitchen, little missy.

It's going to be a long time before you cook down there again.

That's what I'm afraid of.

Oh, those sandwiches look good.

Okay, these aren't sandwiches. They're panini. Now, uh... You need to microwave

these for exactly 15 seconds to soften up the bread.

14's not enough, and 16, you might as well throw it away.

Got it.

Uh, what's this? This is your gazpacho. You remember what goes on top?

Uh, yeah, ground pepper. Crack pepper!

What's the difference?

You know what? Just go eat something off the floor.

Okay, okay.

Crack pepper. All right.

Bye, honey.

I've got to get to the produce market before work. If I don't get there early,

everything's been picked over.

Do you have any idea how frustrating that can be?

Oh, I have an idea.

Hey, so let me get this straight. You couldn't get turned on because he's

cooking? Oh, I kept seeing him in that girly apron.

Like Mrs.

Doubtfire was coming at me.

I mean, he makes these incredible muffins, and you don't have to have sex

them. I don't see the downside.

I know it's hard for you to imagine, but I do enjoy my sex life with Bill. Okay,

I'm eating.

I don't know what my problem is.

Is it possible that you feel diminished as a woman because he's usurping your

role as the nurturing mother?

Yeah, right.

I once tried to pay a woman at the mall to breastfeed Lorne for me.

Ask him to stop cooking.

What are you, crazy? The food is fabulous.

Plus, I have all this free time.

There's just something about him cooking that makes my skin crawl.

Maybe it's your button.

What are you talking about?

Well, every girl has a thing that turns her off.

Like me. I mean, I can't even think about dating a guy who ties one of those

sweaters around his shoulders.

Yeah, I'm with you on that one. You just want to yank the sleeves and choke

them. See,

certain stuff is just hardwired. I mean, if you're wearing...

Pleated pants with a t -shirt. Goodbye.

Really? Hell yeah.

Fanny pack?

See ya.

Corduroy jacket?

None of this.

Linda, did you ever think that you had too many buttons?

God, that's another one. Button fly jeans.

What are you, Amish?

I don't know. Maybe it's the apron.

Yeah. The girly, frilly apron.

I need to go out and buy him a manly, masculine, macho apron.

I forgot my sweater.

See, I wouldn't date him.

How about this one?

Imagine the profitability.

Whimsical, don't you think?

Okay, I don't want whimsical.

I don't want sizzle master. I don't want barbecuity. I want something manly.

Something a man would wear, not a frilly lady girl.

I have this apron.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

It's just that ever since my husband started cooking, there have been issues

the household.

Issues.

You know, marital issues.

I need a more manly apron so I can have sex with my husband again.

You're asking a lot from an apron lady.

Oh, you're cooking again.

Yeah, I'm just roasting some lamb shanks, but I had an inspiration at work

today. I'm going to make my own dry rubber just using a little pinch of...

put this on.

Hey, you bought me a new apron. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

How does it look?

I don't know. Kiss me.

One more.

That was a little hard.

You know what? You look tired.

You need to take a break, you know? Have a beer.

I'm cooking dinner.

Oh, you know what? I'll do it. You've been cooking for so long.

apron off and relax.

There you go.

Oh, that's my guy. Good, right?

Yeah? Of course it's good. It's beer!

What you

doing?

Mind if I watch?

No.

but wouldn't you rather go watch sports?

No, there's nothing on.

Can I make a suggestion?

Uh -huh. You know, with onions, most of the stuff that makes you cry is at the

root end. So what I do is I cut it in half first, place the cut side down, and

then cut almost all the way through, north to south.

North to south.

North to south. Okay, okay, you know what? I think I've got it.

What? You know, you should caramelize those onions before you put them in.

would add a lot of flavor.

You know what, Bill? I want to keep it simple. Oh, it is simple.

I'll show you. You just saute them to a deep brown and deglaze the pan with a

touch of wine. Add just a whisper of shallots. You turned into a woman!

What? I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. Yes, I did. You turned into a woman!

What are you talking about?

I'm sorry, Bill. I know it's old... but every time I see you cooking, you become

this... How shall I put it?

Chef Boy, are you girly?

Chef Boy, are you girly? Yeah, in my mind.

Oh, good, just in your mind.

Come on, you must have something irrational and crazy that turns you off

time I do it, don't you?

No. Oh.

Not even when I put on those big manly worked boots and tramp downstairs to fix

the first... and come back up all covered in grime? Yeah, uh -huh, uh

talking.

Bill, I'm sorry.

You know, I tried.

I just cannot have sex with you anymore if you continue to cook.

That's just ridiculous.

I finally find something I'm good at, now I have to give it up because you

some kind of crazy hang -up.

You know what?

Maybe I've had enough sex for a while.

Maybe I can be happy just putting all my passion into my cooking.

What are you doing?

I'm smashing garlic cloves.

Smash another one.

Smash another one.

But the recipe only costs... Just do it!

Get upstairs.

Gotta get your work boots.

What's for dinner?

You know what we had last night? Cream of that.

Ooh, delicious.

I loved it last night with a fork. I'll love it tonight with a spoon.

So what you're saying is cooking, turn off, mashing garlic.

Woo! Take me now, big boy!

Well, I kind of realized the only way I can get on board with his cooking was

for him to become the angry gourmet.

But he didn't want to be mean to the food. The man loved food.

So we compromised and agreed that I'll do all the cooking while he goes back to

lying around doing absolutely...

Wait a minute, Bill!