Northern Exposure (1990–1995): Season 4, Episode 21 - The Big Feast - full transcript
Dr. Fleischman is troubled when he doesn't receive an invitation to a big party for Maurice that the whole town is attending. Shelly accidentally breaks a bottle of wine worth several thousand dollars.
You know, you would think
the one thing...
they would have in this under-populated
moose farm is fresh air, right?
All the way into town I am
stuck behind a cattle truck...
breathing in manure fumes
for six and a half miles.
You put Mrs. Kataknukani
inside? She canceled.
She canceled?
She changed her mind.
We were going to remove the
nevus from her nose, right?
I mean, granted, it's a benign mole...
but she changed her mind
about a surgical procedure?
What am I running here? A dress shop?
This is ridiculous.
What's that?
Invitation.
Wax seal. Wow.
You don't see those very often. May I?
Nice paper.
It's thick. Feels like linen.
Oh, look at this calligraphy, Marilyn.
"Miss Marilyn Whirlwind," very fancy.
Looks like gold ink.
It is.
Really?
Wow. What is it, somebody's wedding?
Party.
Really? Some party. Whose?
Maurice.
Maurice is having a party?
A blowout.
You're kidding, what for?
Because he's alone and rich.
Oh, let me see.
"Maurice J. Minnifield requests the
pleasure of your company for dinner...
"on the 15th day of March, 1993...
"saluting 25 years
of Minnifield Communications."
Black tie optional.
Oh. Sounds great.
It's not there.
What, I didn't get an invitation?
Uh-uh.
Come on.
Where'd you put it?
You didn't get one.
I didn't get the invitation?
Uh-uh.
Huh. Well...
Okay. Fine.
I will be in my office.
Okay, Frenchy, what do you think?
That one there?
This one? No.
She is too much fat.
I think this one. Look at the gill.
Very nice.
Okay, take care of him.
Get those spuds in the pantry.
You, with the baby turnips, follow him.
Where was I? Oh, yeah.
Apéritifs, Drambuie...
and Armagnac, eight bottles each.
Where the hell is my cassis?
Good news, Maurice,
the blackamoors came in.
They'll be perfect
with your tall beeswax tapers.
With the Spode China,
damask tablecloth...
and our pomegranate topiary
centerpieces.
Oh, hold it. Pomegranates?
You're putting
fruit in the flower arrangements?
Very elegant look, Maurice.
Classic, tactile.
The halved pomegranate with
the red-seeded white flesh...
against the dark red leathery skin.
Remember the building blocks
of atmosphere:
lighting, texture,
color, progression. Yeah.
All right, I'll leave that to you...
you people are born to ambience.
But try to act normal
at the party, okay?
By the way, how's Eric
doing with the chair slags?
I'm covering that, Maurice.
Eric got called away to Frisco.
His former "friend" is trying
to sell the casa in the Castro.
All right, whatever, just
see that it's done, okay?
Come here, I want
to show you something.
Come here.
Oh, Maurice.
A KBHR cake.
Yeah, yeah. How do you like...
that gold-leaf antenna there?
Awesome. You think so?
Absolutely.
I thought it was appropriate
for the silver jubilee.
Pulled sugar and piping
like that does not come cheap.
You don't have to tell me that.
This cake is setting me back $10,000.
You are really shooting
with both pistols...
aren't you, Maurice?
I guess so.
Sounds like we've got a little
crisis back there. Excuse me.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Simmer down there, Frenchy.
What's got you so itchy
under the apron?
They sold it. They sold it,
those cowboy sons of bitches!
What, sold what?
The demi-glace for the Sauce Rossini.
That Argentinean bastard
shipped it to Nippon.
To Japan?
He can't do that. I've had
that contract for six months.
I paid top dollar for that beef.
They went higher.
We are screwed, number one now.
To hell with it, I'll make a stock.
The hell you will.
You want demi-glace,
you've got demi-glace.
From where?
You have six steers in the slaughter?
To make the demi-glace, it needs
the flesh and bones of 40 cows.
40, monsieur.
Simmering, stir, cook...
and cook down until there
is nothing at the end.
Nothing, just a teacup...
a thimbleful of beef's
most precious essence.
Easier to find a pearl in a pig's ear.
Hold it!
You hone your Sabatiers and
put on your water, Frenchy.
You'll get your beef.
Morning, Joel.
Hiya, Ruth-Anne. Did I
get any mail by any chance?
Mail? No, I don't think so.
Could you just check?
You know, sometimes people
misplace things. They forget things.
Especially older people,
nothing personal, but...
Well, I just dusted out
the mail bin, Joel.
Well, thanks anyway.
Mmm-hmm. Although...
Do you mind if I ask you
a personal question?
Well, if you must.
Did Maurice send you an invitation?
Yes, he always does.
Always?
Oh, he throws these
shindigs every so often.
Fiftieth birthday, anniversary
of his space flight...
They're monuments to himself.
Maurice celebrating Maurice.
And these are big parties?
The biggest.
Really? And the best.
The best of everything. Food, music...
You know how he is.
He likes to play lord of the manor...
invite all us serfs up to the castle.
Trot out the Tiffany silver
and the finger bowls.
Finger bowls?
Maurice and finger bowls?
Between you and me...
I think it's just obscene with all
the pain and misery in this world.
Here he comes with his
Pol Roger Champagne...
and beluga caviar and escargot.
Beluga caviar?
Like $50 an ounce, beluga caviar?
Oh, will you listen to me?
Regular two-faced Annie.
So, you're not gonna go?
Oh, of course, I'm going.
There's caviar, Joel.
Big mountains of it.
Well, have a good time.
Oh, I will.
Boy, this is really fancy-shmancy.
Yeah, that, too.
One thing about Maurice,
he certainly has style.
Yeah, and he's not chintzy, either.
He wrote our whole names
out in real gold.
"Mr. Holling Gustav Vincouer...
"and Mrs. Shelly Marie Tambo-Vincouer."
Looks like he took
a curling iron to the "y."
The letters are all
scrinched and ruffly.
I'm gonna put it in my book...
right next to my First
Holy Communion card...
and me and Wayne's wedding invites.
Afternoon, Joel.
Well, hello.
Hey, Dr. Fleischman. Dave
made cream of cauliflower.
All right, I'll take a chance.
And how about a mooseburger? But please
tell Dave under no circumstances...
any of that special Brick sauce.
The pickle chips and olive pieces?
Yeah, I don't even wanna look at it.
Okay.
We were just admiring
our invites, Joel.
Maurice surely
outdid himself this time.
"Master Ed Chigliak, Cicely, Alaska."
So you got an invitation as well, huh?
Yup, well, it's the first year I've
been old enough to sit at the big table.
It's gonna be so cool,
Dr. Fleischman, totally rad.
Yep, but last time
he had fire-eaters...
and one of those women, they
put their legs around their neck?
A contortionist.
The Barnum & Bailey Circus.
You're saying Maurice brought
the entire Barnum & Bailey Circus?
Mmm-hmm. Here to Cicely?
Yeah. Mmm-hmm.
Yeah, for the one
on his 50th birthday...
he had The Blue Angels fly over...
and a parachute drop
by the National Guard.
Yep, I remember it was cloudy
all week and it stormed...
then at the last moment,
the sun broke through the sky.
Oh, yeah. That was a doozy.
Racks of lamb...
and roasted pigs stuffed with thrushes.
100 Maine lobsters, and that
was just for the fish course.
Oh, and there was
this mile-long table...
bearing sweets of every kind.
Italian plum tartlets,
and marzipan cakes...
and my favorite, croquembouche.
That's a mile-high pastry
with these cream puffs...
and nougat syrup...
and you just pick off
the little cream puffs...
and pop them into your
mouth one by one, ah.
Oh, yeah.
Oh, man. That was some kind
of feed, Joel, I tell you.
Mmm. I hope we have littleneck
clams again this time.
Oh, you're going too, huh?
Wild dogs couldn't keep
me away, Dr. Fleischman.
Yep, definitely the
social event of the season.
Mmm-hmm.
Decade.
My life.
The ultimate kegger.
No special sauce.
Yeah, thanks, Dave.
Hi, Maggie. Hey!
What you doing?
I've been at Anchorage International
all morning. Look at this.
Foie gras from Lyon...
black truffles from Gascony,
and asparagus from Amsterdam.
Isn't asparagus supposed to be green?
Well, they grow it in straw, so
that it never photosynthesizes.
Huh?
You know, turns green.
Oh, cool.
So, what are you wearing?
Probably my teal
with the bow on the bottom.
Or the mini with the rhinestones.
Or, my really low-cut
black leather one...
that makes Holling's eyes glaze over.
You? Oh, I'm gonna
wear my black jumpsuit.
Ooh, that one always hots
and bothers them.
What's all this straw stuff doing here?
Oh, it's cushioning the wine.
Wine-cushion?
Like a wine pincushion?
Yeah. Maurice didn't want the wine
juggling around the back of the truck.
It's not good for it.
It raises the sediment.
See, it's very old.
French, very expensive.
Like how much?
I don't know, I can't really say.
Like $20?
No, no, no. Much more than
that, Shelly. More like hundreds.
Especially that one.
Wow, it's so grungy. Mmm.
Well, it's old, look at that.
"Chateau Latour, 1929".
And you can still drink it?
Oh, yeah.
Boy, they sure must have
screwed the cork in tight.
Well, I gotta go, I got a lot
more stuff to pick up for Maurice.
Okay, see you. See you.
Hey, Shelly.
Oh, man!
Shelly?
Yeah?
What are you doing in there, hon?
Shelly?
Just looking.
You seen any number two jars
of pickled pigs' feet?
Uh-uh. It's time to put them on order.
What are you looking for?
We are jumping mad tonight.
Dave and I could use a couple of hands.
Hon, this the only kind of wine we got?
Well, no. We got white. And pink also.
I don't mean that.
I mean wine that's old.
Dusty.
Well that's plenty dusty.
Yeah, but, Holling,
where do we keep the...
you know, hundreds and
hundreds of dollar bottles?
Now, Shelly, how would we
get a bottle that big in here?
We'd have to knock out
one of the walls.
You said Stern, I expect Stern.
I will not settle for
some wet-behind-the-ear
fiddler fresh out of Julliard.
No, hold on a minute, Eliot.
Ed, damp down that flame.
I got squeezed top dollar
for those 40 gravy cows.
If you break a boil on that
demi-glace, it'll cloud up...
we'll have to dump it
in the minestrone.
Yeah, Eliot, can you get
Perlman to cancel in Brazil?
Yeah. Knut Svenborg?
That Swedish meatball with the earring?
Yeah. Okay, we'll give him a try.
But, if he's as flaky as he looks...
I'm personally coming and
stomping your butt, Eliot!
Well, well, well!
Très cordon bleu, Minnifield.
Nice boar you got out back.
What the hell are you doing here?
Well, I heard you're having
a little fête for the rabble.
We're busy here, Adam.
Adam?
You!
No, no, no. Monsieur Adam,
I can explain.
You thief!
You hack!
I teach you everything I know,
and then you stab me in the back!
It was not my fault. It was a mistake!
You stole my recipe
for Pommes Anglaise.
I saw it on the menu at
L'Ambroisie! Come on, come on...
break it up, break it up!
It was an homage.
I thought you were dead.
I lived on rats for three weeks...
in a bombed-out basement
you miserable pissant ingrate!
Three opium merchants and a
German shepherd had to dig me out.
I paid them with the gold
fillings from my teeth!
You...
What is that? What's that smell?
It couldn't be.
Yes! Yes, it is!
Glace de Viande?
You're making demi-glace here?
Oui, you see? Glace de viande.
Stay. Cook.
I ought to chop you up and
throw you in the bouillabaisse.
Got get one of your toadies
to fetch my knives.
Skim!
A- ha!
Dr. Fleischman!
Hey, Eve. How are you?
What do we have here?
Don't tell me. Cain? Abel?
Aldrich.
Aldrich? You named your baby Aldrich?
It's a family thing. My mother's
side, the Charleston Aldriches.
Aldrich, well, that's
definitely Adam's kid...
same blue hat, same no shoes.
Hi, Aldrich. Uh-uh.
I've seen your scrub soap,
Dr. Fleischman.
Hygiene is no place to scrimp.
I'll be bringing Aldrich by
later for a complete workup.
Yellow fever, plus typhus boosters.
We'll bring our own soap.
Well, why stop there? What
about a treadmill test? Huh?
We could do an EKG, we could do
a lipid profile, urinalysis...
What else? We could do liver,
kidney, electrolytes, sugar.
Goodbye, Dr. Fleischman.
How you doing, Marilyn?
What?
What, you think I'm
upset about the party?
Marilyn, please, I'm not
upset about that party.
Really, I could care less.
I mean, you want to talk party,
I've been to some parties.
There was MOMA...
the Museum of Modern Art,
the Founder's Gala...
for the Rauschenberg retrospective.
Now, that was a party.
That was a party.
I think Mick Jagger was there.
Walter Annenberg, Liza Minnelli.
So don't talk to me about some...
Hicksville backwoods soirée
with a pig on a spit.
It doesn't interest me.
You know...
the thing is, I know
why he didn't invite me...
that's the thing, you know?
You want to know why?
I mean...
how am I supposed to
know he's writing off
his four-by as a snowplow for the city?
Guy says he's from the IRS...
the Federal government. What
am I gonna do? Am I gonna lie?
He just... He asked me.
I told him, I said, no...
I've never seen Maurice plow snow.
I mean...
I can't imagine how he
found out. That's the thing.
Unless you told him.
Can I get you anything, Dr. Fleischman?
Yes, please. I would like
a decaf to go, black...
and a couple of those butterscotch
brownies, if you would.
And I hope that the
coffee is maybe a little
stronger than dishwater for a change.
How much does an expensive
bottle of wine cost?
Exactly?
What kind?
Well, the good kind, you know,
with a cork, and from France.
Well, you know, I mean...
there are a lot of great
French wines, Shelly.
It depends what you're
talking about, there's
Bordeaux, and there's Burgundy, and...
I mean, there's a lot of
great French vineyards as well.
There's Château Lafite,
and Château Margaux, and...
Mouton Rothchild, and Chateau Latour-
That one! Latour.
How much?
About?
Chateau Latour? That's...
Yeah, that's a great wine.
That's one of the top five...
and, I mean, the price would depend
on the vintage. You know, the year.
1929.
1929, that would be up there.
That would be way up there.
I don't know. I guess...
$5,000, $6,000.
Dollars?
Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah, at least.
Thanks.
And now for the sauce.
The final reduction.
Hours upon hours...
of simmering...
stirring...
and straining and it all
comes down to this moment...
this precious fluid...
this elixir of beef.
One false step by one ignorant...
ham-fisted, boneheaded cluck...
and toodle-oo!
Forty cows down the toilet.
Could you breathe or nod or
something, so I know you're alive?
Good.
Now, I'm sure...
I don't have to remind any of
you Wolfgang Puck wannabes...
the roux cannot be hot...
it cannot be cold.
It must be:
Warm.
Amazing.
They just look brain-dead.
They actually cogitate.
They form words.
Now, I realize I'm going
out on a limb here...
this is probably
just a futile exercise...
in futility.
But why?
Why?
Why?
Why must the roux be warm?
What? Am I talking to myself?
I forgot.
Because it will poach.
It will poach!
You moron!
God! I can't stand this!
I hate women
who think that they can cook!
Why do I bother? Why do I even cook?
Because you're hungry?
What did you just say?
Nothing.
Oh, you did.
You said something.
Say it.
Say it!
Because you're hungry.
Yes...
because I'm hungry.
I, Adam, am hungry!
I want to eat!
And what do I want to eat?
Something that you made?
No. I want something good.
I want something that I made!
My smoked sturgeon
with poached egg on frisée.
The hollandaise blending
with the runny yellow yolk...
counterpointing the crispness
of the fresh greens.
My ratatouille, my coulibiac of bass!
My Chicken Pojarski!
The cream and the brandy
and the paprika...
blending with the juices of my mouth...
moving me to the pinnacle...
of gustatory ecstasy!
Ha, ha, ha.
Monsieur Adam...
the boar, she is dead.
Gangway!
I've got the crown jewels here...
the pancreas and the thymus.
Where's the brine bucket?
Sweetbreads.
Yo, mama!
Chris on KBHR...
heading into the home stretch
of the party-hearty countdown.
Still time to press those
trousers and perm those 'dos.
Got a little note here. Ruth-Anne's
out of Kiwi boot-black...
only three cans of mousse and a
jar of Dippity Do left on the shelf.
Now if you're like me, you're
probably planning to tie one on...
bark at the moon, pee off
the porch, and all that.
Well, I say, all right, go for it...
'cause I know many of you have
made it home in worse condition.
It's just, there's gonna be a lot
of us out there tomorrow night...
we're gonna be working without
the benefit of the full moon.
And I, for one, don't want
to see your high beams...
closing in on me four feet over
the line, if you know what I mean.
So, do the right thing.
Designate a driver.
Sign up tonight after bingo,
in front of the Theosophy Hall.
Heimlich maneuver workshop
to be announced.
Party!
So there I am...
at the Zurich Obstetrics Center.
Zaniger thought I was fine...
but I saw signs of
possible premature delivery.
I insisted on bed rest. Six weeks.
Then labor. Three hours.
I know what you're thinking. By some
standards that's not very long...
but my contractions
were extremely violent.
Extremely.
It looked as though we were faced
with a posterior presentation...
with its concurrent coccygeal
pain and perianal laceration.
This baby was a posterior presentation?
Well, actually, no.
The delivery concluded
without incident.
And in any case, I'd come prepared...
with six units of my own blood.
Okay, there we go.
That wasn't too bad, huh?
Yes. Yes.
Congratulations, because you have...
a beautiful, healthy, baby boy.
Are you sure?
I am positive.
The chubby cheeks...
the round belly, the
slight acne on his brow...
doesn't that point to an
overactive adrenal gland?
What, you think he's Cushionoid?
Don't you? Those are the classic
symptoms of Cushing's disease.
And what about his hips?
Did you listen to his hips?
When I was changing his
diaper, I heard a click.
A possible dislocated
femoral head, don't you think?
No, Eve, this baby is not
Cushionoid. There was no click, okay?
The baby is healthy
and you are out of here.
Bye-bye.
Joel, you got a minute?
I need a few incidentals
in my first aid kit.
Nothing fancy. You know,
smelling salts, nitro tab...
iodine, that sort of thing.
In case somebody gets an oyster
shell stuck in his throat...
or steals a fork and punctures
his butt when he sits on it.
You want medical supplies
from me for your party?
Well, I've got a short-term
liability policy...
from Lloyd's of London...
but, you know how people are.
They come to your house
eat like wolves...
and then get a splinter in
their finger and sue you blind.
Yeah, I know how it is, Maurice.
Okay, sure, I'll give you
medical supplies.
You want medical supplies? Here you go.
Let's see, I got some Q-tips here...
got some hydrogen peroxide...
I got some Ace bandages.
Huh? How about that?
I got some sterile gauze, I got some
burn cream. What else do we need?
You want some aspirin, Maurice?
There you go. Hey, hey, hey.
Calm down, get a grip on yourself.
You know, look, I didn't know
about your Suburban, all right?
Suburban? Are you talking about my car?
Do you think that I would rat you out on
purpose? I mean, is that what you think?
To not invite me to your
party? To hold such a grudge?
Is that what you think? I mean, you drag
me up here, I'm trapped against my will.
It's the first thing
I ever wanted to do, Maurice.
You know, you're just vindictive,
Maurice. You are vindictive...
and you are cold and I always
knew it and this just proves it.
What the hell are you talking about?
Well, I'm talking about you not
inviting me to your party, aren't I?
I invited you to my party.
You did? Yeah.
When?
Well, Maggie had the invitations,
I'm sure yours was in there.
O'Connell?
Yeah, she picked them up from the
calligrapher down in Anchorage...
and passed them out
a couple of days ago.
Coming.
Coming. Coming. Coming.
Hey, Fleischman.
This is too much, O'Connell,
this is beyond anything.
I mean, I have seen
some behavior from you...
but this is so hurtful and so cruel.
What? What are you talking about?
To let me be excluded
and left out like that...
and everyone, everyone got
these beautiful invitations...
with the gold calligraphy
and the beluga caviar.
You know I have abandonment issues.
You just find that button
and you just push...
and you push and you push, don't you?
Look, Fleischman,
I delivered your invitation.
If you got an invitation,
I delivered it.
I didn't get an invitation
and you didn't deliver it.
Yes, I did! And, look, maybe
it got lost or misplaced...
but hey, nobody's perfect.
O'Connell, I know that
you're totally conflicted...
about your attraction to me and now
that Mike is out of the picture...
you probably feel particularly
exposed and vulnerable.
No, I don't. I do not.
To be so threatened
by your attraction...
that you need to obliterate me.
I mean, come on, consciously
or unconsciously,
to act out your rage in such a...
It's so destructive,
O'Connell, it is so childish.
Look, Fleischman, first of all,
I feel fine. I feel terrific.
As a matter of fact, I've
never felt better in my life!
And secondly, you're not on my
mind. You're not on my conscience...
you're not even on my subconscious,
Fleischman! You're nowhere!
Okay, fine, O'Connell.
Oh, it's peaceful in here.
Quiet.
A man can hear himself think
among these carcasses.
I could, if you would shut up
and let me do my job!
The smell of the beef,
sawdust, takes me back to Tulsa.
My granddaddy had
a little weekend farm there.
Had a sizeable meat-house in it.
I remember my first slaughter.
Granddaddy let me hold the rifle
barrel behind the steer's ear.
And then, bam!
1,200 pounds crashed to the
ground. I felt the ground shake.
And then Granddaddy
hoisted him up by his heels...
slit his throat.
A lot of blood.
Two, three buckets, at least.
This is good.
I'll start with this one, I can carve
a fairly good tenderloin out of this.
You like that one, huh?
I just said I liked it,
didn't I? What do I have to do?
Clap like a seal?
That, my friend...
is USDA prime grade beef.
It's not your French-speaking
"Charolais parlez-vous" crap.
Or your beer-fed Nipponese Kobe beef.
No, no.
This was free-ranged down in Tampa.
Trucked up here, finished
off on oats and corn.
Look at it, look at the texture.
The marbling.
The creamy white fat.
Oh, yeah.
That, my friend...
that is beef.
Reindeer patty, medium rare,
hold the bun.
Hmm.
You said no bun, I heard you.
No, bun, medium rare, double slaw.
It's right here on the ticket.
Shelly, are you all right?
Why?
I think you ought to have
your thyroid checked...
you look a little exophthalmic to me.
Oh, God.
It shows, doesn't it?
I didn't mean to do it, Eve.
I was just looking,
I hardly even touched it.
And, I don't know...
it went clink
on the tailgate of the truck.
What went clink? The wine.
Maurice's crummy old wine.
Tomorrow he's gonna be looking for it.
And he's gonna start
asking questions...
and he's gonna find out it was me.
Just get him another one.
I can't, I looked.
There aren't any.
It came specially
all the way from France.
Do you have the label?
I saved the whole bottle.
Fill it up with something
else. Nobody'll know.
He's an expert, he'll be able to tell.
And then he's gonna kill me.
Look, I once substituted
lawn clippings for dill weed.
Adam said it was
my best vinaigrette yet.
And you know how sensitive
his palate is.
Huh.
So, you think I could, like,
fake Maurice out?
Make him think it was his 1929 Latour?
Chateau Latour?
Yeah.
1929?
Yeah, is that bad?
Well, gee, '29.
Good.
Adam?
What?
Are you sure you peeled
enough of those spuds?
Say one more word,
Minnifield, one more...
and these Pommes Anglaise are going
to be tater tots, you get my drift?
How are the blinis for the caviar?
Very nice, Monsieur. Good.
All right, let's see what we have here.
You.
Good.
Good.
I want a brush under those fingernails
before you take your station.
Good.
That's better.
Knock down that cowlick,
you look like Alfalfa.
Good.
All right, most of you
have worked for me before.
Those of you who haven't...
you can learn the drill
from your comrades.
Number one, I want
those champagne flutes full.
I do not want my guests
rubbernecking for a bottle of bubbly.
Number two, this is French service...
that means serve from the
left, clear from the right.
And I do not want people
hovering over my guests.
Any of you have trouble
with any of that...
you can collect your
checks now and clear out.
Hey you...
that's Baccarat Crystal you're
rattling around there, be careful.
Yes Sir. At ease.
All right, gentlemen, let's pick up the
pace here, we're coming
down to the wire.
Ron, chair slags?
They're coming along, Maurice.
I had a mini-crisis in the night.
My pyracantha drooped.
I've slipped in
some euphorbia, can you tell?
No, no, it looks fine.
All right, well, we got
another problem. What?
It's this caviar station.
Well, what about it? Well,
don't you see? It's all wrong.
I don't know what I was thinking
about. It will completely ruin the flow.
All right, you, when you get finished
there, help Ron with his caviar stand.
Thanks, Maurice. You're a prince.
Where the hell is that violin player?
If Eliot doesn't get him here,
I'm gonna stretch his hide.
Hello, let me talk to Eliot!
I don't give a damn if he's on
another line, get him on the phone!
Oh, man.
Why does Maurice even have
to have his stupid party?
Everything was fine before.
Now my life is trashed.
Shelly, peat moss, please.
Isn't this dirt?
Holling pots his crocuses in it.
It'll lend sediment
and a nice earthy undertone.
Well?
It's close.
Vanilla.
Vanilla.
Pepper.
Are you sure this is gonna work?
Shelly, I once polished off...
a quart of Adam's
50-year-old Laphroaig scotch.
I was waiting for blood
results, I was tense.
All they had at the corner
store, was Clan McGregor.
I put in a little liquid smoke...
a dash of Chanel No. 5...
and...
this is brilliant...
sandalwood incense.
Adam never suspected.
Of course, that wasn't a '29 Latour.
Hmm.
What?
What's wrong?
Let's try a little more
of the green food coloring.
God.
Blowing $4,000 on the
Home Shopping Network...
that was one thing.
At least I have a diamond tiara
to show for it, but this...
This stupid bottle of wine.
Holling's gonna throw a rod.
I'll never see Johnny again.
There.
A good deep color with a plummy
veneer and a velvety nose.
Huh.
It does kind of look
like it looked before.
Super glue.
Isn't that gonna
make it taste all gooey?
It's to put the bottom on, Shelly.
Oh, right.
Plays an electrifying fiddle,
doesn't he?
Certainly does.
That little hothead would have made
first chair of the Chicago Phil...
if he hadn't decked Solti.
Is that a fact?
Waiter!
Hold on, I want some
of these brie dealies.
You're really packing it away,
aren't you, Ruth-Anne?
Is that a problem this year?
Oh, no. Just save
a little room for dinner.
Mr. Vincouer.
Maurice.
Mrs. Tambo-Vincouer.
Maurice, I have never in my
life seen anything to compare.
Yeah, worked out all right, didn't it?
Not one red cent of it tax-deductible,
but what the hey, right?
Well, come on in,
let's wet your whistle.
Shelly? What?
Your coat, dear.
What about it?
May I take it?
No!
Excuse me. I gotta go pee.
Must be the excitement and all.
Beautiful.
Champagne? Ah, yes.
Hey, Holling.
Good evening, Chris.
Maggie, everybody.
Hey.
The shrimp toast is delicious...
but you must try the Chinese
Pearl Balls. They are...
Maurice, everything is beautiful. Yes.
The lights, Ron's flowers...
It's just like a movie.
Yep. History is Made at
Night, Charles Boyer, 1937.
I love Boyer.
Probably because people always
said we looked like twins.
Mmm. You do.
I met Boyer once at the
21 Club, in New York.
It was right after my ticker
tape parade down Fifth Avenue.
He had a blonde on each arm.
Quite a man with the
ladies, Charles Boyer.
I'll say.
Of course, I never had that
much trouble with them myself.
Can I hold him? Sure.
Absolutely not.
Let him have the baby, Eve.
He may look clean...
but you don't know where
this man's hands have been.
You want to expose
our child to strep? Typhus?
Want him contracting cholera,
hepatitis A? Think of his liver!
Oh!
Aren't you darling!
O'Connell, can I speak to you
for a minute, please?
Oh, you.
Don't start with me, Fleischman,
I'm at a party, I'm having fun.
Can I just speak to you for one
second? I would like to apologize.
You do?
Yeah, I was just way out of line.
You were?
Absolutely.
I mean, I think
barging into your place and...
you know, losing my temper
like that, it's just...
It's completely unacceptable
and I just...
I would really like you
to know that I realize that.
Well...
you know, you were probably upset.
Yeah, I was definitely upset, but, I
mean, I don't think that's any excuse.
Fleischman, you didn't get your
invitation and it probably was my fault.
But I didn't do it on purpose.
Look, regardless, it doesn't matter
whether you did it on purpose or not.
That's not the issue.
It's not? No.
As far as I'm concerned, consciously or
unconsciously, your
motives are your own.
It's not my business,
that's for you to deal with.
Okay.
Great. Thanks.
Right this way, gentlemen.
I've managed to cellar some
rather interesting Sonoma cabs...
since the last feed.
My, my, my.
Wonders never cease, Minnifield.
This is incredible, Maurice.
I mean, I knew you collected, but...
I didn't know it was
anything like this.
Yeah, the climate in here
is digitally controlled.
The humidity only varies
less than one percent.
'61 Mouton-Rothschild.
Boy, that's a good Bordeaux year.
You know, Broadbent
gives this wine five stars.
Yeah, that's the best vintage
since '45.
Or '29.
Yeah. You know what '61 I like?
Ducru-Beaucaillou Bordeaux.
Oh, yes, dry and cedary. Nice nose.
Good legs.
Ducru-Beaucaillou?
It's a little boutique vineyard.
I think I first tasted it
at Dr. Richele's tasting...
in Pensacola in '86.
I had it at a Tannin tasting, '78.
Yeah, how did it hold up?
Some color loss, it was peaked.
It was past its prime.
Yeah, that's why I didn't bid on it.
But it was delicious while it lasted.
Oh, I've got something
over here I'd like
to show you, an interesting
little Madeira.
My buyer picked it up in
Madrid the year before last-
Maurice! Dr. Fleischman!
What?
We need you up here right away!
For heavens sake, what now?
You turn your back on these
people for one minute...
and they'll screw up a free lunch.
It just came over you suddenly?
The chills and the nausea and cramping?
It's the fish.
Fish? What fish?
Him.
You mean the salmon in aspic?
No. No, that couldn't be,
he was hooked this morning.
I just tasted it.
You know, Marilyn,
I ate a bad eel once.
Had me scrunched up
on the floor for three days.
Is she gonna be all right?
Yeah, she's gonna be fine. I
sent someone for something...
to calm her stomach down and
she upchucked most of it...
but maybe we could
get her a glass of water.
This thing is a grandmother!
This is just great.
This is wonderful.
All this work, the expense,
and now it's garbage!
You, this was your fish, Frenchy.
You are fired, you're out of here!
After I get done with you...
you won't be able to get a job
at Wolf's Trout Hut.
She smelled nice.
Oh, you're a hack!
You couldn't man the wheel at a HoJo's.
Minnifield, I'm gonna
have to bail you out again.
Eddie!
You worthless piece
of eurotrash, attendez!
Go get my Sabatiers and a
snifter of brandy, on the double!
And the rest of you, get out of
here. I've got a lot of work to do.
Out! Out, out! Go on! Get out
of here! You, too, Minnifield.
You especially, get out.
All right, let's get to work.
Where's that brandy?
Come on! Snap to it, buddy!
Shelly! Where have you been?
You look kind of...
What is that in your hair?
Oh, yeah. It's a cobweb.
I wonder how they get
their sweetbreads so crisp?
It's the batter.
I'd like some more of those
delicious little olive rolls.
Scrumptious, isn't it?
Do you want your tomato rosettes?
Uh-uh.
I'm gonna have to get the recipe
for this gravy, Maurice. It's tasty.
What's up next?
Not fish.
Yes, fish.
Soufflé de Clam.
You made this?
No, Maurice, I got a mix
from the convenience store...
just plopped in an egg
and a cup of water.
Of course I made it, you imbecile.
I went into that sorry
excuse of a pantry of yours...
and created a masterpiece
from K-rations.
My, my, that is so light and fluffy.
It melts right on the tongue!
Adam, you are a genius!
Yeah, of course I'm a genius,
what are you, blind?
Are you deaf?
What do you think I've been
devoting my life to all these years?
Tuna casserole? Adam?
What? Check the baby.
I just checked the baby,
ten minutes ago, darling.
He was sleeping.
That's what he does. Sleep.
And when he's not sleeping,
he cries, and when he cries...
we hear him and then we check him.
Fine.
But when we find our son dead
of infant crib syndrome...
and our lives are ruined
and in shambles...
because Aldrich, whom I carried...
through a dangerous and difficult
pregnancy in my own womb...
for nine long months,
has ceased to breathe...
because you would rather linger at
the table, sponging compliments...
than go see as to his welfare...
All right, all right.
Excuse me, everyone!
If I could just have
a moment of your time...
I would like to make the toast now.
Maurice J. Minnifield...
our generous host,
friend and employer...
I'm sure I join everyone
here in saying thank you...
for these very fine,
fine eats and drinks.
You are a real American.
You're an ex-Marine, an
astronaut. You are America.
You're rich, you're rapacious...
you're progress without a conscience...
paving everything in it's path.
You're five percent
of the Earth's population...
yet, consuming 25 % of the
Earth's natural resources.
You pay a lot of taxes, you
do a lot of charity work...
most of it's tax deductible...
but your heart's in the right place.
One thing's for certain, chief...
you have impeccable taste in the booze.
Salutes.
May I say a word?
Yeah, I guess so.
Thank you.
One thing you can count on, there's
no hidden agenda with this man.
Maurice Minnifield is not
going to stab you in the back.
No, you're going to see him plunge
that dagger right into your belly...
pull it up, and twist and twist...
until your guts spill
right out onto your shoes.
Maurice, my dear friend, you
are a homophobe, and a bigot.
But you have
a truly marvelous aesthetic...
and a truly superb collection
of Gershwin LP's.
Here's to you, sir. Cheers.
Cheers!
Thank you, Stevens, and thank you, Ron.
While I find your lifestyle both...
repugnant and disgusting...
I must admit...
that your bed-and-breakfast
is an asset to Cicely.
And you boys don't flaunt
your perversions.
Adam, Eve, little Aldrich...
I'm glad you could make it here.
Adam, I am a rich and powerful man.
But if it had not been
for your genius tonight...
I'd be in deep.
I offer you the pride of my cellar.
The first taste of a '29 Latour.
A wine as pure as nature itself.
Hmm.
Full-figured, peppery...
plummy veneer.
Velvety nose.
Rich color.
No fade.
Hmm.
Earthy undertones.
It's...
It's delicious.
Make sure everyone gets a taste.
Eat! Drink!
Keep pulling those corks.
Cheers, everybody.
Thank you for being here!
Cheers!
Corrected & Synced by Bakugan
the one thing...
they would have in this under-populated
moose farm is fresh air, right?
All the way into town I am
stuck behind a cattle truck...
breathing in manure fumes
for six and a half miles.
You put Mrs. Kataknukani
inside? She canceled.
She canceled?
She changed her mind.
We were going to remove the
nevus from her nose, right?
I mean, granted, it's a benign mole...
but she changed her mind
about a surgical procedure?
What am I running here? A dress shop?
This is ridiculous.
What's that?
Invitation.
Wax seal. Wow.
You don't see those very often. May I?
Nice paper.
It's thick. Feels like linen.
Oh, look at this calligraphy, Marilyn.
"Miss Marilyn Whirlwind," very fancy.
Looks like gold ink.
It is.
Really?
Wow. What is it, somebody's wedding?
Party.
Really? Some party. Whose?
Maurice.
Maurice is having a party?
A blowout.
You're kidding, what for?
Because he's alone and rich.
Oh, let me see.
"Maurice J. Minnifield requests the
pleasure of your company for dinner...
"on the 15th day of March, 1993...
"saluting 25 years
of Minnifield Communications."
Black tie optional.
Oh. Sounds great.
It's not there.
What, I didn't get an invitation?
Uh-uh.
Come on.
Where'd you put it?
You didn't get one.
I didn't get the invitation?
Uh-uh.
Huh. Well...
Okay. Fine.
I will be in my office.
Okay, Frenchy, what do you think?
That one there?
This one? No.
She is too much fat.
I think this one. Look at the gill.
Very nice.
Okay, take care of him.
Get those spuds in the pantry.
You, with the baby turnips, follow him.
Where was I? Oh, yeah.
Apéritifs, Drambuie...
and Armagnac, eight bottles each.
Where the hell is my cassis?
Good news, Maurice,
the blackamoors came in.
They'll be perfect
with your tall beeswax tapers.
With the Spode China,
damask tablecloth...
and our pomegranate topiary
centerpieces.
Oh, hold it. Pomegranates?
You're putting
fruit in the flower arrangements?
Very elegant look, Maurice.
Classic, tactile.
The halved pomegranate with
the red-seeded white flesh...
against the dark red leathery skin.
Remember the building blocks
of atmosphere:
lighting, texture,
color, progression. Yeah.
All right, I'll leave that to you...
you people are born to ambience.
But try to act normal
at the party, okay?
By the way, how's Eric
doing with the chair slags?
I'm covering that, Maurice.
Eric got called away to Frisco.
His former "friend" is trying
to sell the casa in the Castro.
All right, whatever, just
see that it's done, okay?
Come here, I want
to show you something.
Come here.
Oh, Maurice.
A KBHR cake.
Yeah, yeah. How do you like...
that gold-leaf antenna there?
Awesome. You think so?
Absolutely.
I thought it was appropriate
for the silver jubilee.
Pulled sugar and piping
like that does not come cheap.
You don't have to tell me that.
This cake is setting me back $10,000.
You are really shooting
with both pistols...
aren't you, Maurice?
I guess so.
Sounds like we've got a little
crisis back there. Excuse me.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Simmer down there, Frenchy.
What's got you so itchy
under the apron?
They sold it. They sold it,
those cowboy sons of bitches!
What, sold what?
The demi-glace for the Sauce Rossini.
That Argentinean bastard
shipped it to Nippon.
To Japan?
He can't do that. I've had
that contract for six months.
I paid top dollar for that beef.
They went higher.
We are screwed, number one now.
To hell with it, I'll make a stock.
The hell you will.
You want demi-glace,
you've got demi-glace.
From where?
You have six steers in the slaughter?
To make the demi-glace, it needs
the flesh and bones of 40 cows.
40, monsieur.
Simmering, stir, cook...
and cook down until there
is nothing at the end.
Nothing, just a teacup...
a thimbleful of beef's
most precious essence.
Easier to find a pearl in a pig's ear.
Hold it!
You hone your Sabatiers and
put on your water, Frenchy.
You'll get your beef.
Morning, Joel.
Hiya, Ruth-Anne. Did I
get any mail by any chance?
Mail? No, I don't think so.
Could you just check?
You know, sometimes people
misplace things. They forget things.
Especially older people,
nothing personal, but...
Well, I just dusted out
the mail bin, Joel.
Well, thanks anyway.
Mmm-hmm. Although...
Do you mind if I ask you
a personal question?
Well, if you must.
Did Maurice send you an invitation?
Yes, he always does.
Always?
Oh, he throws these
shindigs every so often.
Fiftieth birthday, anniversary
of his space flight...
They're monuments to himself.
Maurice celebrating Maurice.
And these are big parties?
The biggest.
Really? And the best.
The best of everything. Food, music...
You know how he is.
He likes to play lord of the manor...
invite all us serfs up to the castle.
Trot out the Tiffany silver
and the finger bowls.
Finger bowls?
Maurice and finger bowls?
Between you and me...
I think it's just obscene with all
the pain and misery in this world.
Here he comes with his
Pol Roger Champagne...
and beluga caviar and escargot.
Beluga caviar?
Like $50 an ounce, beluga caviar?
Oh, will you listen to me?
Regular two-faced Annie.
So, you're not gonna go?
Oh, of course, I'm going.
There's caviar, Joel.
Big mountains of it.
Well, have a good time.
Oh, I will.
Boy, this is really fancy-shmancy.
Yeah, that, too.
One thing about Maurice,
he certainly has style.
Yeah, and he's not chintzy, either.
He wrote our whole names
out in real gold.
"Mr. Holling Gustav Vincouer...
"and Mrs. Shelly Marie Tambo-Vincouer."
Looks like he took
a curling iron to the "y."
The letters are all
scrinched and ruffly.
I'm gonna put it in my book...
right next to my First
Holy Communion card...
and me and Wayne's wedding invites.
Afternoon, Joel.
Well, hello.
Hey, Dr. Fleischman. Dave
made cream of cauliflower.
All right, I'll take a chance.
And how about a mooseburger? But please
tell Dave under no circumstances...
any of that special Brick sauce.
The pickle chips and olive pieces?
Yeah, I don't even wanna look at it.
Okay.
We were just admiring
our invites, Joel.
Maurice surely
outdid himself this time.
"Master Ed Chigliak, Cicely, Alaska."
So you got an invitation as well, huh?
Yup, well, it's the first year I've
been old enough to sit at the big table.
It's gonna be so cool,
Dr. Fleischman, totally rad.
Yep, but last time
he had fire-eaters...
and one of those women, they
put their legs around their neck?
A contortionist.
The Barnum & Bailey Circus.
You're saying Maurice brought
the entire Barnum & Bailey Circus?
Mmm-hmm. Here to Cicely?
Yeah. Mmm-hmm.
Yeah, for the one
on his 50th birthday...
he had The Blue Angels fly over...
and a parachute drop
by the National Guard.
Yep, I remember it was cloudy
all week and it stormed...
then at the last moment,
the sun broke through the sky.
Oh, yeah. That was a doozy.
Racks of lamb...
and roasted pigs stuffed with thrushes.
100 Maine lobsters, and that
was just for the fish course.
Oh, and there was
this mile-long table...
bearing sweets of every kind.
Italian plum tartlets,
and marzipan cakes...
and my favorite, croquembouche.
That's a mile-high pastry
with these cream puffs...
and nougat syrup...
and you just pick off
the little cream puffs...
and pop them into your
mouth one by one, ah.
Oh, yeah.
Oh, man. That was some kind
of feed, Joel, I tell you.
Mmm. I hope we have littleneck
clams again this time.
Oh, you're going too, huh?
Wild dogs couldn't keep
me away, Dr. Fleischman.
Yep, definitely the
social event of the season.
Mmm-hmm.
Decade.
My life.
The ultimate kegger.
No special sauce.
Yeah, thanks, Dave.
Hi, Maggie. Hey!
What you doing?
I've been at Anchorage International
all morning. Look at this.
Foie gras from Lyon...
black truffles from Gascony,
and asparagus from Amsterdam.
Isn't asparagus supposed to be green?
Well, they grow it in straw, so
that it never photosynthesizes.
Huh?
You know, turns green.
Oh, cool.
So, what are you wearing?
Probably my teal
with the bow on the bottom.
Or the mini with the rhinestones.
Or, my really low-cut
black leather one...
that makes Holling's eyes glaze over.
You? Oh, I'm gonna
wear my black jumpsuit.
Ooh, that one always hots
and bothers them.
What's all this straw stuff doing here?
Oh, it's cushioning the wine.
Wine-cushion?
Like a wine pincushion?
Yeah. Maurice didn't want the wine
juggling around the back of the truck.
It's not good for it.
It raises the sediment.
See, it's very old.
French, very expensive.
Like how much?
I don't know, I can't really say.
Like $20?
No, no, no. Much more than
that, Shelly. More like hundreds.
Especially that one.
Wow, it's so grungy. Mmm.
Well, it's old, look at that.
"Chateau Latour, 1929".
And you can still drink it?
Oh, yeah.
Boy, they sure must have
screwed the cork in tight.
Well, I gotta go, I got a lot
more stuff to pick up for Maurice.
Okay, see you. See you.
Hey, Shelly.
Oh, man!
Shelly?
Yeah?
What are you doing in there, hon?
Shelly?
Just looking.
You seen any number two jars
of pickled pigs' feet?
Uh-uh. It's time to put them on order.
What are you looking for?
We are jumping mad tonight.
Dave and I could use a couple of hands.
Hon, this the only kind of wine we got?
Well, no. We got white. And pink also.
I don't mean that.
I mean wine that's old.
Dusty.
Well that's plenty dusty.
Yeah, but, Holling,
where do we keep the...
you know, hundreds and
hundreds of dollar bottles?
Now, Shelly, how would we
get a bottle that big in here?
We'd have to knock out
one of the walls.
You said Stern, I expect Stern.
I will not settle for
some wet-behind-the-ear
fiddler fresh out of Julliard.
No, hold on a minute, Eliot.
Ed, damp down that flame.
I got squeezed top dollar
for those 40 gravy cows.
If you break a boil on that
demi-glace, it'll cloud up...
we'll have to dump it
in the minestrone.
Yeah, Eliot, can you get
Perlman to cancel in Brazil?
Yeah. Knut Svenborg?
That Swedish meatball with the earring?
Yeah. Okay, we'll give him a try.
But, if he's as flaky as he looks...
I'm personally coming and
stomping your butt, Eliot!
Well, well, well!
Très cordon bleu, Minnifield.
Nice boar you got out back.
What the hell are you doing here?
Well, I heard you're having
a little fête for the rabble.
We're busy here, Adam.
Adam?
You!
No, no, no. Monsieur Adam,
I can explain.
You thief!
You hack!
I teach you everything I know,
and then you stab me in the back!
It was not my fault. It was a mistake!
You stole my recipe
for Pommes Anglaise.
I saw it on the menu at
L'Ambroisie! Come on, come on...
break it up, break it up!
It was an homage.
I thought you were dead.
I lived on rats for three weeks...
in a bombed-out basement
you miserable pissant ingrate!
Three opium merchants and a
German shepherd had to dig me out.
I paid them with the gold
fillings from my teeth!
You...
What is that? What's that smell?
It couldn't be.
Yes! Yes, it is!
Glace de Viande?
You're making demi-glace here?
Oui, you see? Glace de viande.
Stay. Cook.
I ought to chop you up and
throw you in the bouillabaisse.
Got get one of your toadies
to fetch my knives.
Skim!
A- ha!
Dr. Fleischman!
Hey, Eve. How are you?
What do we have here?
Don't tell me. Cain? Abel?
Aldrich.
Aldrich? You named your baby Aldrich?
It's a family thing. My mother's
side, the Charleston Aldriches.
Aldrich, well, that's
definitely Adam's kid...
same blue hat, same no shoes.
Hi, Aldrich. Uh-uh.
I've seen your scrub soap,
Dr. Fleischman.
Hygiene is no place to scrimp.
I'll be bringing Aldrich by
later for a complete workup.
Yellow fever, plus typhus boosters.
We'll bring our own soap.
Well, why stop there? What
about a treadmill test? Huh?
We could do an EKG, we could do
a lipid profile, urinalysis...
What else? We could do liver,
kidney, electrolytes, sugar.
Goodbye, Dr. Fleischman.
How you doing, Marilyn?
What?
What, you think I'm
upset about the party?
Marilyn, please, I'm not
upset about that party.
Really, I could care less.
I mean, you want to talk party,
I've been to some parties.
There was MOMA...
the Museum of Modern Art,
the Founder's Gala...
for the Rauschenberg retrospective.
Now, that was a party.
That was a party.
I think Mick Jagger was there.
Walter Annenberg, Liza Minnelli.
So don't talk to me about some...
Hicksville backwoods soirée
with a pig on a spit.
It doesn't interest me.
You know...
the thing is, I know
why he didn't invite me...
that's the thing, you know?
You want to know why?
I mean...
how am I supposed to
know he's writing off
his four-by as a snowplow for the city?
Guy says he's from the IRS...
the Federal government. What
am I gonna do? Am I gonna lie?
He just... He asked me.
I told him, I said, no...
I've never seen Maurice plow snow.
I mean...
I can't imagine how he
found out. That's the thing.
Unless you told him.
Can I get you anything, Dr. Fleischman?
Yes, please. I would like
a decaf to go, black...
and a couple of those butterscotch
brownies, if you would.
And I hope that the
coffee is maybe a little
stronger than dishwater for a change.
How much does an expensive
bottle of wine cost?
Exactly?
What kind?
Well, the good kind, you know,
with a cork, and from France.
Well, you know, I mean...
there are a lot of great
French wines, Shelly.
It depends what you're
talking about, there's
Bordeaux, and there's Burgundy, and...
I mean, there's a lot of
great French vineyards as well.
There's Château Lafite,
and Château Margaux, and...
Mouton Rothchild, and Chateau Latour-
That one! Latour.
How much?
About?
Chateau Latour? That's...
Yeah, that's a great wine.
That's one of the top five...
and, I mean, the price would depend
on the vintage. You know, the year.
1929.
1929, that would be up there.
That would be way up there.
I don't know. I guess...
$5,000, $6,000.
Dollars?
Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah, at least.
Thanks.
And now for the sauce.
The final reduction.
Hours upon hours...
of simmering...
stirring...
and straining and it all
comes down to this moment...
this precious fluid...
this elixir of beef.
One false step by one ignorant...
ham-fisted, boneheaded cluck...
and toodle-oo!
Forty cows down the toilet.
Could you breathe or nod or
something, so I know you're alive?
Good.
Now, I'm sure...
I don't have to remind any of
you Wolfgang Puck wannabes...
the roux cannot be hot...
it cannot be cold.
It must be:
Warm.
Amazing.
They just look brain-dead.
They actually cogitate.
They form words.
Now, I realize I'm going
out on a limb here...
this is probably
just a futile exercise...
in futility.
But why?
Why?
Why?
Why must the roux be warm?
What? Am I talking to myself?
I forgot.
Because it will poach.
It will poach!
You moron!
God! I can't stand this!
I hate women
who think that they can cook!
Why do I bother? Why do I even cook?
Because you're hungry?
What did you just say?
Nothing.
Oh, you did.
You said something.
Say it.
Say it!
Because you're hungry.
Yes...
because I'm hungry.
I, Adam, am hungry!
I want to eat!
And what do I want to eat?
Something that you made?
No. I want something good.
I want something that I made!
My smoked sturgeon
with poached egg on frisée.
The hollandaise blending
with the runny yellow yolk...
counterpointing the crispness
of the fresh greens.
My ratatouille, my coulibiac of bass!
My Chicken Pojarski!
The cream and the brandy
and the paprika...
blending with the juices of my mouth...
moving me to the pinnacle...
of gustatory ecstasy!
Ha, ha, ha.
Monsieur Adam...
the boar, she is dead.
Gangway!
I've got the crown jewels here...
the pancreas and the thymus.
Where's the brine bucket?
Sweetbreads.
Yo, mama!
Chris on KBHR...
heading into the home stretch
of the party-hearty countdown.
Still time to press those
trousers and perm those 'dos.
Got a little note here. Ruth-Anne's
out of Kiwi boot-black...
only three cans of mousse and a
jar of Dippity Do left on the shelf.
Now if you're like me, you're
probably planning to tie one on...
bark at the moon, pee off
the porch, and all that.
Well, I say, all right, go for it...
'cause I know many of you have
made it home in worse condition.
It's just, there's gonna be a lot
of us out there tomorrow night...
we're gonna be working without
the benefit of the full moon.
And I, for one, don't want
to see your high beams...
closing in on me four feet over
the line, if you know what I mean.
So, do the right thing.
Designate a driver.
Sign up tonight after bingo,
in front of the Theosophy Hall.
Heimlich maneuver workshop
to be announced.
Party!
So there I am...
at the Zurich Obstetrics Center.
Zaniger thought I was fine...
but I saw signs of
possible premature delivery.
I insisted on bed rest. Six weeks.
Then labor. Three hours.
I know what you're thinking. By some
standards that's not very long...
but my contractions
were extremely violent.
Extremely.
It looked as though we were faced
with a posterior presentation...
with its concurrent coccygeal
pain and perianal laceration.
This baby was a posterior presentation?
Well, actually, no.
The delivery concluded
without incident.
And in any case, I'd come prepared...
with six units of my own blood.
Okay, there we go.
That wasn't too bad, huh?
Yes. Yes.
Congratulations, because you have...
a beautiful, healthy, baby boy.
Are you sure?
I am positive.
The chubby cheeks...
the round belly, the
slight acne on his brow...
doesn't that point to an
overactive adrenal gland?
What, you think he's Cushionoid?
Don't you? Those are the classic
symptoms of Cushing's disease.
And what about his hips?
Did you listen to his hips?
When I was changing his
diaper, I heard a click.
A possible dislocated
femoral head, don't you think?
No, Eve, this baby is not
Cushionoid. There was no click, okay?
The baby is healthy
and you are out of here.
Bye-bye.
Joel, you got a minute?
I need a few incidentals
in my first aid kit.
Nothing fancy. You know,
smelling salts, nitro tab...
iodine, that sort of thing.
In case somebody gets an oyster
shell stuck in his throat...
or steals a fork and punctures
his butt when he sits on it.
You want medical supplies
from me for your party?
Well, I've got a short-term
liability policy...
from Lloyd's of London...
but, you know how people are.
They come to your house
eat like wolves...
and then get a splinter in
their finger and sue you blind.
Yeah, I know how it is, Maurice.
Okay, sure, I'll give you
medical supplies.
You want medical supplies? Here you go.
Let's see, I got some Q-tips here...
got some hydrogen peroxide...
I got some Ace bandages.
Huh? How about that?
I got some sterile gauze, I got some
burn cream. What else do we need?
You want some aspirin, Maurice?
There you go. Hey, hey, hey.
Calm down, get a grip on yourself.
You know, look, I didn't know
about your Suburban, all right?
Suburban? Are you talking about my car?
Do you think that I would rat you out on
purpose? I mean, is that what you think?
To not invite me to your
party? To hold such a grudge?
Is that what you think? I mean, you drag
me up here, I'm trapped against my will.
It's the first thing
I ever wanted to do, Maurice.
You know, you're just vindictive,
Maurice. You are vindictive...
and you are cold and I always
knew it and this just proves it.
What the hell are you talking about?
Well, I'm talking about you not
inviting me to your party, aren't I?
I invited you to my party.
You did? Yeah.
When?
Well, Maggie had the invitations,
I'm sure yours was in there.
O'Connell?
Yeah, she picked them up from the
calligrapher down in Anchorage...
and passed them out
a couple of days ago.
Coming.
Coming. Coming. Coming.
Hey, Fleischman.
This is too much, O'Connell,
this is beyond anything.
I mean, I have seen
some behavior from you...
but this is so hurtful and so cruel.
What? What are you talking about?
To let me be excluded
and left out like that...
and everyone, everyone got
these beautiful invitations...
with the gold calligraphy
and the beluga caviar.
You know I have abandonment issues.
You just find that button
and you just push...
and you push and you push, don't you?
Look, Fleischman,
I delivered your invitation.
If you got an invitation,
I delivered it.
I didn't get an invitation
and you didn't deliver it.
Yes, I did! And, look, maybe
it got lost or misplaced...
but hey, nobody's perfect.
O'Connell, I know that
you're totally conflicted...
about your attraction to me and now
that Mike is out of the picture...
you probably feel particularly
exposed and vulnerable.
No, I don't. I do not.
To be so threatened
by your attraction...
that you need to obliterate me.
I mean, come on, consciously
or unconsciously,
to act out your rage in such a...
It's so destructive,
O'Connell, it is so childish.
Look, Fleischman, first of all,
I feel fine. I feel terrific.
As a matter of fact, I've
never felt better in my life!
And secondly, you're not on my
mind. You're not on my conscience...
you're not even on my subconscious,
Fleischman! You're nowhere!
Okay, fine, O'Connell.
Oh, it's peaceful in here.
Quiet.
A man can hear himself think
among these carcasses.
I could, if you would shut up
and let me do my job!
The smell of the beef,
sawdust, takes me back to Tulsa.
My granddaddy had
a little weekend farm there.
Had a sizeable meat-house in it.
I remember my first slaughter.
Granddaddy let me hold the rifle
barrel behind the steer's ear.
And then, bam!
1,200 pounds crashed to the
ground. I felt the ground shake.
And then Granddaddy
hoisted him up by his heels...
slit his throat.
A lot of blood.
Two, three buckets, at least.
This is good.
I'll start with this one, I can carve
a fairly good tenderloin out of this.
You like that one, huh?
I just said I liked it,
didn't I? What do I have to do?
Clap like a seal?
That, my friend...
is USDA prime grade beef.
It's not your French-speaking
"Charolais parlez-vous" crap.
Or your beer-fed Nipponese Kobe beef.
No, no.
This was free-ranged down in Tampa.
Trucked up here, finished
off on oats and corn.
Look at it, look at the texture.
The marbling.
The creamy white fat.
Oh, yeah.
That, my friend...
that is beef.
Reindeer patty, medium rare,
hold the bun.
Hmm.
You said no bun, I heard you.
No, bun, medium rare, double slaw.
It's right here on the ticket.
Shelly, are you all right?
Why?
I think you ought to have
your thyroid checked...
you look a little exophthalmic to me.
Oh, God.
It shows, doesn't it?
I didn't mean to do it, Eve.
I was just looking,
I hardly even touched it.
And, I don't know...
it went clink
on the tailgate of the truck.
What went clink? The wine.
Maurice's crummy old wine.
Tomorrow he's gonna be looking for it.
And he's gonna start
asking questions...
and he's gonna find out it was me.
Just get him another one.
I can't, I looked.
There aren't any.
It came specially
all the way from France.
Do you have the label?
I saved the whole bottle.
Fill it up with something
else. Nobody'll know.
He's an expert, he'll be able to tell.
And then he's gonna kill me.
Look, I once substituted
lawn clippings for dill weed.
Adam said it was
my best vinaigrette yet.
And you know how sensitive
his palate is.
Huh.
So, you think I could, like,
fake Maurice out?
Make him think it was his 1929 Latour?
Chateau Latour?
Yeah.
1929?
Yeah, is that bad?
Well, gee, '29.
Good.
Adam?
What?
Are you sure you peeled
enough of those spuds?
Say one more word,
Minnifield, one more...
and these Pommes Anglaise are going
to be tater tots, you get my drift?
How are the blinis for the caviar?
Very nice, Monsieur. Good.
All right, let's see what we have here.
You.
Good.
Good.
I want a brush under those fingernails
before you take your station.
Good.
That's better.
Knock down that cowlick,
you look like Alfalfa.
Good.
All right, most of you
have worked for me before.
Those of you who haven't...
you can learn the drill
from your comrades.
Number one, I want
those champagne flutes full.
I do not want my guests
rubbernecking for a bottle of bubbly.
Number two, this is French service...
that means serve from the
left, clear from the right.
And I do not want people
hovering over my guests.
Any of you have trouble
with any of that...
you can collect your
checks now and clear out.
Hey you...
that's Baccarat Crystal you're
rattling around there, be careful.
Yes Sir. At ease.
All right, gentlemen, let's pick up the
pace here, we're coming
down to the wire.
Ron, chair slags?
They're coming along, Maurice.
I had a mini-crisis in the night.
My pyracantha drooped.
I've slipped in
some euphorbia, can you tell?
No, no, it looks fine.
All right, well, we got
another problem. What?
It's this caviar station.
Well, what about it? Well,
don't you see? It's all wrong.
I don't know what I was thinking
about. It will completely ruin the flow.
All right, you, when you get finished
there, help Ron with his caviar stand.
Thanks, Maurice. You're a prince.
Where the hell is that violin player?
If Eliot doesn't get him here,
I'm gonna stretch his hide.
Hello, let me talk to Eliot!
I don't give a damn if he's on
another line, get him on the phone!
Oh, man.
Why does Maurice even have
to have his stupid party?
Everything was fine before.
Now my life is trashed.
Shelly, peat moss, please.
Isn't this dirt?
Holling pots his crocuses in it.
It'll lend sediment
and a nice earthy undertone.
Well?
It's close.
Vanilla.
Vanilla.
Pepper.
Are you sure this is gonna work?
Shelly, I once polished off...
a quart of Adam's
50-year-old Laphroaig scotch.
I was waiting for blood
results, I was tense.
All they had at the corner
store, was Clan McGregor.
I put in a little liquid smoke...
a dash of Chanel No. 5...
and...
this is brilliant...
sandalwood incense.
Adam never suspected.
Of course, that wasn't a '29 Latour.
Hmm.
What?
What's wrong?
Let's try a little more
of the green food coloring.
God.
Blowing $4,000 on the
Home Shopping Network...
that was one thing.
At least I have a diamond tiara
to show for it, but this...
This stupid bottle of wine.
Holling's gonna throw a rod.
I'll never see Johnny again.
There.
A good deep color with a plummy
veneer and a velvety nose.
Huh.
It does kind of look
like it looked before.
Super glue.
Isn't that gonna
make it taste all gooey?
It's to put the bottom on, Shelly.
Oh, right.
Plays an electrifying fiddle,
doesn't he?
Certainly does.
That little hothead would have made
first chair of the Chicago Phil...
if he hadn't decked Solti.
Is that a fact?
Waiter!
Hold on, I want some
of these brie dealies.
You're really packing it away,
aren't you, Ruth-Anne?
Is that a problem this year?
Oh, no. Just save
a little room for dinner.
Mr. Vincouer.
Maurice.
Mrs. Tambo-Vincouer.
Maurice, I have never in my
life seen anything to compare.
Yeah, worked out all right, didn't it?
Not one red cent of it tax-deductible,
but what the hey, right?
Well, come on in,
let's wet your whistle.
Shelly? What?
Your coat, dear.
What about it?
May I take it?
No!
Excuse me. I gotta go pee.
Must be the excitement and all.
Beautiful.
Champagne? Ah, yes.
Hey, Holling.
Good evening, Chris.
Maggie, everybody.
Hey.
The shrimp toast is delicious...
but you must try the Chinese
Pearl Balls. They are...
Maurice, everything is beautiful. Yes.
The lights, Ron's flowers...
It's just like a movie.
Yep. History is Made at
Night, Charles Boyer, 1937.
I love Boyer.
Probably because people always
said we looked like twins.
Mmm. You do.
I met Boyer once at the
21 Club, in New York.
It was right after my ticker
tape parade down Fifth Avenue.
He had a blonde on each arm.
Quite a man with the
ladies, Charles Boyer.
I'll say.
Of course, I never had that
much trouble with them myself.
Can I hold him? Sure.
Absolutely not.
Let him have the baby, Eve.
He may look clean...
but you don't know where
this man's hands have been.
You want to expose
our child to strep? Typhus?
Want him contracting cholera,
hepatitis A? Think of his liver!
Oh!
Aren't you darling!
O'Connell, can I speak to you
for a minute, please?
Oh, you.
Don't start with me, Fleischman,
I'm at a party, I'm having fun.
Can I just speak to you for one
second? I would like to apologize.
You do?
Yeah, I was just way out of line.
You were?
Absolutely.
I mean, I think
barging into your place and...
you know, losing my temper
like that, it's just...
It's completely unacceptable
and I just...
I would really like you
to know that I realize that.
Well...
you know, you were probably upset.
Yeah, I was definitely upset, but, I
mean, I don't think that's any excuse.
Fleischman, you didn't get your
invitation and it probably was my fault.
But I didn't do it on purpose.
Look, regardless, it doesn't matter
whether you did it on purpose or not.
That's not the issue.
It's not? No.
As far as I'm concerned, consciously or
unconsciously, your
motives are your own.
It's not my business,
that's for you to deal with.
Okay.
Great. Thanks.
Right this way, gentlemen.
I've managed to cellar some
rather interesting Sonoma cabs...
since the last feed.
My, my, my.
Wonders never cease, Minnifield.
This is incredible, Maurice.
I mean, I knew you collected, but...
I didn't know it was
anything like this.
Yeah, the climate in here
is digitally controlled.
The humidity only varies
less than one percent.
'61 Mouton-Rothschild.
Boy, that's a good Bordeaux year.
You know, Broadbent
gives this wine five stars.
Yeah, that's the best vintage
since '45.
Or '29.
Yeah. You know what '61 I like?
Ducru-Beaucaillou Bordeaux.
Oh, yes, dry and cedary. Nice nose.
Good legs.
Ducru-Beaucaillou?
It's a little boutique vineyard.
I think I first tasted it
at Dr. Richele's tasting...
in Pensacola in '86.
I had it at a Tannin tasting, '78.
Yeah, how did it hold up?
Some color loss, it was peaked.
It was past its prime.
Yeah, that's why I didn't bid on it.
But it was delicious while it lasted.
Oh, I've got something
over here I'd like
to show you, an interesting
little Madeira.
My buyer picked it up in
Madrid the year before last-
Maurice! Dr. Fleischman!
What?
We need you up here right away!
For heavens sake, what now?
You turn your back on these
people for one minute...
and they'll screw up a free lunch.
It just came over you suddenly?
The chills and the nausea and cramping?
It's the fish.
Fish? What fish?
Him.
You mean the salmon in aspic?
No. No, that couldn't be,
he was hooked this morning.
I just tasted it.
You know, Marilyn,
I ate a bad eel once.
Had me scrunched up
on the floor for three days.
Is she gonna be all right?
Yeah, she's gonna be fine. I
sent someone for something...
to calm her stomach down and
she upchucked most of it...
but maybe we could
get her a glass of water.
This thing is a grandmother!
This is just great.
This is wonderful.
All this work, the expense,
and now it's garbage!
You, this was your fish, Frenchy.
You are fired, you're out of here!
After I get done with you...
you won't be able to get a job
at Wolf's Trout Hut.
She smelled nice.
Oh, you're a hack!
You couldn't man the wheel at a HoJo's.
Minnifield, I'm gonna
have to bail you out again.
Eddie!
You worthless piece
of eurotrash, attendez!
Go get my Sabatiers and a
snifter of brandy, on the double!
And the rest of you, get out of
here. I've got a lot of work to do.
Out! Out, out! Go on! Get out
of here! You, too, Minnifield.
You especially, get out.
All right, let's get to work.
Where's that brandy?
Come on! Snap to it, buddy!
Shelly! Where have you been?
You look kind of...
What is that in your hair?
Oh, yeah. It's a cobweb.
I wonder how they get
their sweetbreads so crisp?
It's the batter.
I'd like some more of those
delicious little olive rolls.
Scrumptious, isn't it?
Do you want your tomato rosettes?
Uh-uh.
I'm gonna have to get the recipe
for this gravy, Maurice. It's tasty.
What's up next?
Not fish.
Yes, fish.
Soufflé de Clam.
You made this?
No, Maurice, I got a mix
from the convenience store...
just plopped in an egg
and a cup of water.
Of course I made it, you imbecile.
I went into that sorry
excuse of a pantry of yours...
and created a masterpiece
from K-rations.
My, my, that is so light and fluffy.
It melts right on the tongue!
Adam, you are a genius!
Yeah, of course I'm a genius,
what are you, blind?
Are you deaf?
What do you think I've been
devoting my life to all these years?
Tuna casserole? Adam?
What? Check the baby.
I just checked the baby,
ten minutes ago, darling.
He was sleeping.
That's what he does. Sleep.
And when he's not sleeping,
he cries, and when he cries...
we hear him and then we check him.
Fine.
But when we find our son dead
of infant crib syndrome...
and our lives are ruined
and in shambles...
because Aldrich, whom I carried...
through a dangerous and difficult
pregnancy in my own womb...
for nine long months,
has ceased to breathe...
because you would rather linger at
the table, sponging compliments...
than go see as to his welfare...
All right, all right.
Excuse me, everyone!
If I could just have
a moment of your time...
I would like to make the toast now.
Maurice J. Minnifield...
our generous host,
friend and employer...
I'm sure I join everyone
here in saying thank you...
for these very fine,
fine eats and drinks.
You are a real American.
You're an ex-Marine, an
astronaut. You are America.
You're rich, you're rapacious...
you're progress without a conscience...
paving everything in it's path.
You're five percent
of the Earth's population...
yet, consuming 25 % of the
Earth's natural resources.
You pay a lot of taxes, you
do a lot of charity work...
most of it's tax deductible...
but your heart's in the right place.
One thing's for certain, chief...
you have impeccable taste in the booze.
Salutes.
May I say a word?
Yeah, I guess so.
Thank you.
One thing you can count on, there's
no hidden agenda with this man.
Maurice Minnifield is not
going to stab you in the back.
No, you're going to see him plunge
that dagger right into your belly...
pull it up, and twist and twist...
until your guts spill
right out onto your shoes.
Maurice, my dear friend, you
are a homophobe, and a bigot.
But you have
a truly marvelous aesthetic...
and a truly superb collection
of Gershwin LP's.
Here's to you, sir. Cheers.
Cheers!
Thank you, Stevens, and thank you, Ron.
While I find your lifestyle both...
repugnant and disgusting...
I must admit...
that your bed-and-breakfast
is an asset to Cicely.
And you boys don't flaunt
your perversions.
Adam, Eve, little Aldrich...
I'm glad you could make it here.
Adam, I am a rich and powerful man.
But if it had not been
for your genius tonight...
I'd be in deep.
I offer you the pride of my cellar.
The first taste of a '29 Latour.
A wine as pure as nature itself.
Hmm.
Full-figured, peppery...
plummy veneer.
Velvety nose.
Rich color.
No fade.
Hmm.
Earthy undertones.
It's...
It's delicious.
Make sure everyone gets a taste.
Eat! Drink!
Keep pulling those corks.
Cheers, everybody.
Thank you for being here!
Cheers!
Corrected & Synced by Bakugan