Julia (2022–…): Season 1, Episode 7 - Foie Gras - full transcript

Whenever you're doing a caramel,

you swirl the pan,
or it will burn,

and then you'll have to
start all over.

And, goodness,
we have run out of time.

Um, I'm afraid...

...that is all
we have time for.

But, trust me,
it is spectacular

and very French.

Bon appétit.

And cut.

That's a cut.



Well, I haven't had
one of those in a while.

What happened?

My mind kept wandering
to my speech for the gala.

Can we do it over?

Especially with that trip
eating up the rest of the week.

Ah, damn it.

And of all the dishes.

Duck à l'Orange
is Paul's favorite.

It's okay.
I'll live.

Yeah, but it looks so festive
at the end, and -- Oh, well.

C'est la vie, ma cherie.

Oh, no, Avis.
I don't deserve cheering up.

I fucked the duck.

Oh, excuse me, sir.



How about these?

You know, this is silly.
I don't know why I even care.

You're all set
with what you're wearing?

Black, I'm assuming.

I have
a few options I'm mulling over.

Still a little shell-shocked
you included me.

Oh, why wouldn't you be
at the WGBH table?

You're part of the show.

New York City.

I do miss her so.

Yes,
it is fun to visit.

But, between us, it was
a terrible place to be a virgin.

Well,
these aren't bad.

Oh.

You know, I did something
a bit reckless.

Mm?

Oh, you didn't.

We haven't spoken
in years,

but we had a lovely chat.

What was
the name again?

Elliot Astor.

Oh, Avis,
how marvelous.

Oh, excuse me,
what about these?

That would be a no.

Well, I have an idea.

Why don't you just bring me
whatever you do have in a 12,

and we'll go from there?

I want to look elegant,
but professional.

Classy.
This is classy, right?

If by classy
you mean sexless.

If it were up to you,
you'd slather me with raw meat

and shove me
into the lion's den.

Sweetheart, you only get
to be young once.

I worry you're not
taking advantage.

Mm.

Let the people see them.

You know, most mothers

would appreciate
their daughter's modesty.

Most mothers are becoming
happy grandmothers by now.

Oh, God,
not this again.

Please, Alice.

Can't you say yes
just this once?

He's a lawyer
from a good family.

And if he looks anything
like his father,

a cup of coffee
won't kill you.

It's a big deal.
The Waldorf Astoria?

Wish I could go.

I'm not excited
about the Waldorf, Mare.

What's the shirt for,
Russ?

Alright, you remember
my old professor,

Richard Leacock?

Well, he's setting me up
with another former student.

She makes documentaries
all over the South.

Mm.

I know. I know.
I know, I know.

We have a baby,
and babies demand things

like food and clothes,
but I have to try, Mare.

I need to work at
something I love,

not just something
I'm good at.

Maybe it's just the fear
of death or something, but...

...I want
to be remembered.

Fondly?
Or just in general?

Bless you.

That's, what,
number four now?

And in the midst
of cuddling.

Oh, no, no, no, no, no.
No, don't apologize.

I liked it.

It worked for me.

Ooh.
One more for the repertoire.

Oh.

"But it is my hope
that someday,

despite
its essential nature,

cooking, like architecture,
will be seen by Americans

not just as a practical pursuit,
but as an art."

Is it too much?

But I wonder if you need
to tackle the rebuttal.

The rebuttal?

The ephemeral nature
of the meal.

Versailles endures.

The mousse does not.

Paul. Gesundheit.

I'm offering after-dinner
remarks at the Waldorf.

It's not a lecture
at Harvard Hall.

Fine. Just change "cooking"
to "gastronomie"

and call it a night.

That is a good note.

You usually get hives
before you go to New York.

Is that more of the same,
do you think?

Uh, that's my guess.

One might describe it as an,
um, allergic memory.

My body thinks
I'm dreading the trip.

But my body is wrong,
for once.

Come on,
I'll drive you.

Oh, this is very nice.

I'm dying.

Oh, you've died?

Thank you so much.

Thank you.
If you'll follow me.

I'm good from here.
Thank you.

Oh, darling.

I can't leave you
like this.

Oh, you must.
It's too

impor...
...tant.

But, Paul,
it's just lunch.

Blanche Knopf at Lutèce
is not "just lunch."

Could you get me
a cold compress?

I'll get it.

And my diary.

Oh, eat a lot
of foie gras for me.

Try and remember
the sensation exactly

so you can report back.

Oh, of course, darling.

If something happens
to me...

while you're at lunch,
just remember,

I love you to pieces
and I hold no grudges.

Oh, that's it.
I-I'm not going.

See what you've done,
Paul?

I--

I'll stay.

Nonsense,
you have your date.

It's for the best.
Really.

I'll see if
he can meet tomorrow.

Oh, no, we couldn't.
Tell her, Paul.

Go, go, go, go.

I'm fine.

This is
too important for you.

To be perfectly frank,
the day was already feeling

a little overcrowded
for my liking.

You're an angel.

Let's see if they have
any chicken soup in this dump.

Oh, my goodness.
Foie gras with

dark chocolate sauce
and a bitter orange marmalade.

Is it hot in here
or is it just me?

I had it last week.
It's good if you like
that kind of thing.

Is it as sinful
and insane as it sounds?

It's a little rich.

It evoked a dessert my mother
used to make for seder.

I'm so delighted
to be here.

I just wish Paul
were up to it, but...

Thank you, Blanche,
for the lovely invitation.

The room
is simply magnificent.

Of course I've read about it,
but even before one bite,

it exceeds
all expectations.

Who can see
with this lighting?

And this menu -- Andre's wife,
Simone, writes them,

but her penmanship --

Where are you looking?

Nonsense,
I'm not a child.

Tonight's a very big night
for Julia, Blanche.

Public television's
brightest stars

from all over the country
are coming,

and she's
a guest of honor.

Yes, yes.
I know.

I read the memo.

You know
what's truly amazing?

"The French Chef" has brought
a whole new audience

to "Mastering."

Sales have
more than tripled

since she went
on the airwaves.

I'll have
to check it out.

Oh, you've never
watched it?

Truth is, I hardly watch
any television at all.

Well, I completely
understand.

Paul and I bought our first
television just this past year,

and only because
I've got my own show.

There's something
transient and ephemeral

about television
which makes me leery.

I respectfully disagree,
Blanche.

There's no denying it.
TV is the future.

TV is not the future.

It's fleeting.
Airwaves carry no weight.

They have no heft.
Now, a book in your hands --

Books accumulate
in the minds of the readers

who invest in them.

Gosh, I like that.

Well, books are a legacy --
a legacy to be proud of.

Don't get me wrong -- I'm
glad your show is helping
to get your name out there,

but we want
that next book.

That's
what's important.

That's what counts.

Just another minute.

Couldn't we leave that in
a little longer?

It's been such a nice respite
from all the complaining.

I can't breathe.

We can't understand you.

With the thermometer
in my mouth --

Would you prefer
the alternative?

Don't worry, Doc.
I'll take the stick out first.

Well, young man,
I'm ready to make my diagnosis.

What is it, Doctor?
Tell me quickly.

Rip the Band-Aid off.

In all my years
in practice,

I've never seen anything
quite like it.

I knew it.
I knew it was bad.

See?

You have a mild flu.

A mild flu, you say?

Yes, he'll be fine
in a day or so.

Get lots of rest.

And, uh, some more
chicken soup wouldn't hurt.

Oy.

That's it, sweetheart.

Now, be a good wife
and keep him full of liquids,

and he'll be better
in no time.

Wife? No, no.
No, no, no. No.

Him and me?
No, we're not married.

We're definitely
not married.

Oh.

Next time, you may want
to take the ring off,

you son of a bitch.

No, no, no.
No, wait. No.

No, there's been
a misunderstanding.

I'm not sure where
you can find a print.

Perhaps at
the Public Library.

"Integration
Report One."

Okay,
I'll remember that.

I'm sorry I didn't watch this
before we met.

It all happened
so last minute.

You don't need
to apologize.

I would never have
made the film

without
Ricky's encouragement.

He spoke
very highly of you.

But I have to warn you --
independent documentaries?

Funding them is
almost impossible.

I've nearly
given up myself.

Oh, don't do that.
Don't tell my wife.

Oh.

Thank you.

So, what's
your subject?

I don't know.
Not yet.

I just know there are
stories to be told --

in Jackson,
Birmingham.

If I go down there
with my camera --

You're from Boston?

Born and raised.

The fight is happening
in your own backyard, Russ.

You know about
the Freedom Campaign?

Of course.

There may not be laws
in Massachusetts

that separate Black kids
from white ones,

but Boston is as segregated
as Birmingham.

Just go outside
and turn on your camera.

Tell the story
of the Deep North.

I'm embarrassed.

No, I am.

Thank you.
That's good advice.

Such obvious,
good advice.

And I had to come all the way
to New York to hear it.

Public television is the place
to be doing this work, too.

I'm talking to WNET.

You get WGBH on board,
we'll work side by side.

Ready to order?

Oh, uh --

Okay.

What are you producing
for them now?

Now?
Um, uh, not much.

This show called
"The French Chef."

Oh, my God.

You're kidding.

You know it?

I've made
every single recipe.

You work
with Julia Child?

I do.

Is she really as wonderful
as she seems?

Yeah, I guess so.
Sure.

Can you turn up
the heat again?

I'm boiling, Paul.

Well, then can you
check and see

if there's a-an extra blanket
in the closet?

I'm freezing.
My teeth are chattering.

I could damage
my tongue.

That's a good wife.

Can you believe the nerve
of that guy?

Why? I can see how he made
the assumption.

Really?

Well, maybe we should
get him back here, then,

and check
your eyesight.

Geez, Avis. Me thinks
thou doth protest too much.

What's that
supposed to mean?

You know exactly
what it means.

Of course I know what it means.
I'm not an idiot.

I just have no idea
why you're saying it.

You're here,
aren't you?

Someone had to
stay with you.

Instead of being on your
hot date with Mr. Moneybags?

Astor.
Mr. Moneybags-Astor.

You love me.

Admit it.
You love me.

You've got someone
waiting for you,

and you'd rather sit
at my sick bed.

Do you want
some water?

Great.
Go get it.

You love me.

You eat very quickly.

Do I?

Oh, yeah.
Yeah, I guess I do.

My -- My mother
always scolded me,

"Alice, you'll be done
with dinner before

the rest of us have
finished our breakfast."

Well, you've got
places to go.

That is a generous
interpretation.

No, I mean literally.
Y-You have places to go today.

Oh, yes. Yes.
Well --

I mean, there was
a whole negotiation

between our mothers.

Lunch, not dinner.

60 minutes maximum.

Yeah, but we came back with 90,
and we closed the deal.

I wanted to meet you.

It's just, my mother, she tries
to set me up on blind dates

as much as she tries
to get me to go to church.

This is the first time
I've said yes.

Well, you're a stronger person
than I am.

Oh, so I'm one
in a long line?

Well, if it makes you
feel any better,

I told my mother,
"This is it, alright?

After this, I'm done."

My first. Your last.
We have perfect timing.

Um, so...
uh, you passed the bar.

Yeah.
Oh, she told you that?

And I accepted
a job, too.

Oh, congratulations.

I'm going to be
a public defender.

I was supposed to take
this position at a big firm.

My parents are
going to kill me.

Because I spent all this time
and money going to law school

only to take a job
that pays me nothing.

But it's a job
I really want to do, so...

Well,
I think that's cool.

Tell me about being
a public defender.

Oh, not until you
tell me about TV.

Working in TV,
that's cool.

Oh, you watch?

"Perry Mason,"
"The Twilight Zone."

Yeah, I-I don't make
any of those.

Not yet.

Oh, my.

Oh!

I'm sorry.

I have just had an experience.

I hope I'm
not interrupting.

Oh, Andre, how nice.

Hello.

On the contrary.

That was perhaps
the most exquisite meal

I've had on this side
of the Atlantic.

As grand as any meal
I've had in Paris.

Bravo, Chef.

I'm Julia Child.

But of course
I know who you are.

Oh, you do?

You're the French Chef.

Oh, well...

No, you're
the French Chef.

Exactly.

You are as delightful
in color

as you are
in black and white.

Oh, well, being here
is like being in Oz,

as well as in awe.

I can't tell you how many people
come to Lutèce

and ask for dishes you have
shown them on your program.

We're even moving
sweetbreads.

Ooh, how spectacular.

But, uh, may I ask you
a small favor, mon ami?

Oh, yes, of course.
Anything.

Let's leave the real
cooking to the men,

or I'll be out of
a job, eh?

La cuisine Francaise
is no place for a woman.

Not even
a French one.

à bientôt, Julia.

It was truly an honor.

I'll get the check.

How long
can one lunch last?

You can go if you want.

I told Julia I'd stay.

Not everyone in this room
would agree with that statement.

Why are you here, Avis?
Seriously.

You clearly
don't like me --

Clearly.

And I'm agreeing
with you.

Nice we can agree
on something.

Frankly, Paul...

as much as I've enjoyed
your infantile behavior,

I'm not here
because of you.

I'm here
because of me.

Because, uh...

Because I'm a chicken.

And not the delicious kind.

Your cold came
at a perfect time for me.

Well, well, well.

Your secret
is safe with me.

I'll get you
a fresh compress.

Thank you.

When Bernard died,
everything changed.

I retreated into myself,
away from everybody,

even my own children.

I honestly thought I'd never
find another co-conspirator.

'Cause that's
what we were...

Me and Bernard.

And then
I did find one.

With your wife.

Hey.

You won't believe it...

...but that is
what happened to me.

When Edith died,
I was lost,

rootless.

And then Julia waltzed
into my life.

Well...

The truth is, Paul,

it'd be so much easier
if you were dead.

Yes, I've felt that.

Well, I-I have
a very big family.

Two sisters.
Three brothers.

Okay,
so you want six kids?

How --
How many do you want?

Not six.

No, not any right now.
Not for a while.

I have things
I want to do first.

Okay. Okay.

Oh, what?

Well, my mother
would not approve.

A wife who wants
to work

instead of churning out
half-a-dozen grandchildren?

Yeah, she'd hate me.

Mine would hate you
even more.

Well, you don't go to church.
Not even on Easter.

You're going to make
no money.

Yeah.

Apparently,
you'll date anyone at all.

You have no discernment.

Oh, uh...

Here you go.

See me again tonight.

I-I have
the gala tonight.

Then after.

Way after. Tomorrow.

I have a train
in the morning.

Okay.

Well...

here is my number.

I'll be home all night.

What's the point, Isaac?

We have jobs in
two different cities.

It makes no sense.

But still,
there's my number.

I'll be sitting very close
to the phone.

Say yes. Say no.
I don't care.

But you both need to go.
We're closed.

Okay, okay.

You okay?

Oh, I'm perfectly fine.

Blame the lack of
conversation

on a bit of indigestion,
that's all.

My eyes were bigger
than my stomach for once.

Chocolate sauce.

Right.

I'll talk to her.

That's just Blanche
being Blanche.

Though she was
in top form today.

No, I can take
a little criticism,

particularly
from Blanche.

But nothing can dull

my excitement
for the day to come.

We have a gala
to be honored at, Judith.

Yes, we do!

And that conversation with Andre
has sparked my thinking.

Please. I want to eat
the man's food,

not hear
his philosophy.

Oh, no, no.

He made his point.

I'm going to attempt some
alterations to my speech.

And all to the good,
I think.

Oh, God,
don't wake him.

You've been here
all this time?

You're an angel,
that's what you are.

We had fun.

I've never paid
a babysitter before.

This one's on the house.

Just don't forget
to burp him in an hour.

Home early today.

I have to change
for the WNET Gala.

You were too tough
on her today.

What?

That wasn't fair.

I disagree.
The woman gushes and flutters.

Shamed into it, I took a peek
at her program this afternoon.

She mugs like
she's Lucille Ball.

Careful, Blanche.

You'll be known
as our resident Luddite.

I'm all for progress.

A chapter a week,
please.

Maybe I'm taking
my frustration out
on the wrong person.

Meaning what?

You spend too much time
on cookbooks.

Blanche, you just made
an argument for them

today at lunch.

Yes, for her.

That's what she can do --
the best that she can do.

She can write
cookbooks.

You are
another story.

It's one book.

It's one book
on my list.

That is not the point.

I have been around the block,
Judith.

I own the block.

I can see
what's happening,

where your heart is.

So what?

So what
if it gives me pleasure,

if I enjoy spending time
with Julia Child?

Because your legacy
is Anne Frank,

Jean-Paul Sartre,
and Camus.

You just won
the National Book Award.

Okay?

You are the preeminent
woman editor in the country.

I have groomed you
to be that.

There is no one else like you,
except me.

That makes you an example
for all other women.

And you cannot take
your stature,

this opportunity you have
as a woman in this business

and squander it
editing cookbooks.

Let someone else do that.
Anyone else.

You cannot.

You cannot.

I have a gala
to attend.

I'll see you tomorrow,
Blanche.

That is some dress.

Oh, thank you, Russ.

You look very dapper
yourself.

No, I don't
own a tuxedo.

Well,
handsome nonetheless.

It's quite a crowd.

Well, it's not
just for me.

Shall we procure a drink
for fortification

and then head in?

Oh, he's under the weather,
unfortunately.

Oh.

Be my date
for the evening?

Absolutely.

You rang?

I'm gonna be
late for the gala.

That makes two of us.

You're not dressed and --
You're sick as a dog.

I'll be damned if I miss
this moment of hers.

But these cufflinks come
from a circle of Hell

I've only just now
become acquainted with.

I'll trade you.

You can help me
zip up my dress.

Apparently, I'm wearing
something single ladies

aren't supposed to put on
on their own.

Good.
Shut the door.

Ladies and gentlemen,
our emcee for this evening --

the President
of the United States.

There's
a fella named Vaughn Meader

running around,
pretending to be me,

stealin'
all my best lines.

"Ask not what you can do
for your country."

That's my line.

Apparently, Mr. Meader wasn't
available this evening.

Am I late?
I was afraid I'd be late.

Oh, not at all.
And how lovely you look.

I'm so happy
to be here.

Find your seat, Ma'am.

Don't mind me.
Take any seat.

It doesn't matter if you have
to turn around.

There's nothing
to see up here anyway.

Jackie's not coming
tonight.

Oh, Judith.

He's very good.
I've seen him before.

Well, isn't this
jolly fun.

Might as well
kick things off.

To us,
to WGBH,

and to
"The French Chef."

Here, here.

we're here to honor
public television,

which Jackie tells me
means television

that everyone has to pay for
and no one actually watches.

But I told him, I said, "Nikita,
I can't take you anywhere."

Oh, what are
you two doing?

Oh, Paul,
this is too much.

You're meant to be
in bed.

I'm meant to be
with you, love.

And Avis.

Avis.
Oh, you gorgeous thing.

It was a moment
of impetuousness,

and I'm already
having second thoughts.

Vanish the thought.

...guests,
Mayor Wagner and his wife.

And Congressman
Hugh Carey.

And now I'd like to introduce
another very special guest.

She's the author of "Mastering
the Art of French Cooking"

and the host of
"The French Chef" on WGBH,

now playing
across the country --

Mrs. Julia Child.

Just in time.

I love you.

I love you.

Thank you,
Mr. President.

I won't sing "Happy Birthday,"
if it's all the same to you.

Oh, my.

If you'll indulge me,

permit an introduction
to the "French Chef" team.

They're back there,
at table six.

Judith Jones,
editor extraordinaire,

who somehow
has found time for me

amongst
the literary pantheon.

And Hunter Fox,
our general manager,

who believed a housewife could
make a television show.

And Russ Morash, our dashing
director and producer,

who actually makes
that television show.

And brave, resourceful,
ingenious Alice Naman,

fledgling producer
and one-day television pioneer.

And then there is
my very best friend,

Avis DeVoto...

...and Paul Child,
my husband -- my partner,

whom I hold in my heart
of hearts, first and last.

Well, it tickles me
more than you know

that our little show
has found an audience.

But I suppose the response
I still get most from people is,

"I'm sorry, what?"

"What does that possibly mean,
a show about cooking?

You cook and we watch,

and then we watch as you eat
what you've just cooked?

Am I missing something?"

And I answer this way --

that what we're actually making
is a travel program;

that television
is like a window,

and the best of it opens
to the most remarkable places;

that food itself
is like a passport;

that the culture, the history
is locked inside the flavors

and the aromas that are
unique to each cuisine.

I don't cook for chefs.

I cook for other cooks.

For ordinary people --
mostly women, housewives --

and I say to them,
you have endless horizons,

far beyond the walls of your
house, your block, your town.

The whole world
is your oyster --

quite literally.

And if you take the time it
requires to make a great meal,

then you may feel the same
sense of accomplishment,

of mastery, that I feel.

And because
I'm not a chef --

I'm not always
a very good cook --

because I fail,
they tend to believe it.

And so we go on
this journey together.

And that is owing
to all of you

and your support
of public television.

And so I say thank you
and bon appétit.

Well, I have to
introduce her to Lady Bird.

Jackie and I are tired of
eating King Ranch Chicken

every Sunday night
at Lyndon's place.

Well, folks,
enjoy your main course.

You are a marvel.
And thank you.

Well,
every word is true.

And you may relax now.

The speech was better
for Andre's intervention.

And Russ.

Thank you.

Julia.

You have no idea
how much it means to me

that you said
what you did --

not just about me,

about what you do.

Oh, it's what we do.

Thank you, Alice.

One more thing?

Oh, I've been waiting
for this moment

for what feels
like my entire life,

so I know this
is a little peculiar,

but would it be entirely
unforgivable if I leave early?

I forbid you to stay.

Thank you.

What are you doing here?

Well, who were
you calling?

Let's go.

Wait.

Well, I need to get
my blood moving again.

Ladies' room?

Pass.

Ah.

I'm going to the bar.
Refresh?

Please.

Ooh.

My legs are
ostentatiously long,

but I do get to meet
my table neighbor.

Betty Friedan.
Nice to meet you,

even over the shoulder.

Oh, Betty Friedan.
My goodness.

I'm seated in a lively
neighborhood.

I just bought
your book.

Apologies in advance,
but I haven't read it yet.

The television schedule
is a hard taskmaster.

I'd be very interested
to hear what you think.

Oh, well, then,
we shall speak.

You wouldn't mind joining me
at a seat over here, would you?

Otherwise, I may not be able to
move my neck in the morning.

Oh.

Ooh.
Lovely pearls.

Oh, they belonged to
my mother.

Thank you.

Good evening.

What can I get you?

Dirty martini.

Make that two.

We're trapped by it.

Women are.

By the feminine mystique?

By its assumptions.

Well, that women are meant
to find fulfillment

in -- in -- in -- in
housework,

marriage,
child rearing.

As opposed
to what men do.

Exactly.

And is that a choice,
either/or?

Uh, well,
look at the world.

Well,
I'm childless myself.

But for me, I haven't
found that to be the case.

Well, in all candor,
Mrs. Child --

Oh, Julia.

You're not
a good example.

Of your argument,
you mean?

Or to others?

Let's not have
this conversation here.

Oh, but we are
having it.

And whatever needs to be said
should be said.

I don't know you.

But I have seen
your program,

and it's not
helping things.

Well, that is
your opinion.

Yes.

You think you're
opening doors for women,

expanding their horizons.

They may be dreaming
of France,

but they're stuck in front
of a hot stove.

Your show is 30 minutes,

but that's an illusion,
Mrs. Child.

Your recipes take days to make
and hours to clean up.

A good meatloaf
isn't enough anymore?

Now women have to prepare meals
worthy of the finest chefs

and still leave time for
the children and the laundry?

You've nicely raised the bar
on what it means to be

a good wife
to professional levels.

Now, see here --

who you have
locked in the kitchen,

possibly find time
for anything else,

let alone a career?

How rude!

And you have no conception
of what she's doing.

I'm sorry, who are you?

Oh, her husband.

You're not helping things,
Paul.

If you'll excuse me.

Darling, uh...

Was that
necessary?

Not now,
but in general.

You've entirely missed
the point of her, lady.

Mind if I join you?

Oh, suit yourself.

I saw you
from across the way.

Thought maybe you could use
some company.

I'm sorry.

For what?

I enjoyed your speech
very much.

A travel show,

I like that.

Well, I'm not sure
everyone agrees with you.

There are people in there
who positively can't stand me.

Well, I like you.

I like you
just the way you are.

Thank you.

Thank you for that.

I'm Julia.

Hello, Julia.
I'm Fred.

Hello, Fred.

I know I should probably
go back in,

but would you mind
just sitting here with me

for another moment?

I wouldn't mind at all.