The Simpsons (1989–…): Season 23, Episode 5 - The Food Wife - full transcript
Homer is worried that he is no longer the cool parent after Marge becomes a foodie with Bart and Lisa.
♪ The Simpsons 23x05 ♪
The Food Wife
Original Air Date on November 13, 2011
== sync, corrected by elderman ==
And here's a marble for Lisa
for cleaning her room,
and a marble for Bart
for not trashing Lisa's room.
The jars are full,
so you've earned
your Saturday Surprise Dad Day!
Yay!
This Saturday, from the dad who
brought you cemetery paintball
and go-karts on real roads,
comes the greatest
activity yet...
Video game convention!
And check these out.
VIP passes!
Is there any better feeling
than cutting in line
because a plastic badge
says you're special?
GTS!
So many games.
- Ah.
- Wow.
Whoa.
W.O.K.?!
Ooh, the Flying Tomato.
Ah! TMTOLO!
DL2L-to-D!
Oh! ACSOL!
HC1?!
Whoa! Guts of War Two:
Entrails of Intestinox!
Colon slash!
Rectum kill!
We've made a game that'll
reward the hardcore gamer
with hundreds and hundreds
of hours of...
- Finished it.
- Huh?
But working on this game
cost me my marriage.
I-I have twins
I've never met!
Well, when you meet them,
tell them your game's too easy.
This game has all the best
college marching bands.
From the precision footwork
of Ohio State
to the lame, dead-on-arrival
humor of Stanford.
("Stars and Stripes Forever"
playing)
Uh-oh, I'm losing the crowd!
Level cleared.
Next level: study for chemistry
test on 12-hour bus ride home.
This is the funnest game ever!
Man, how many quarters
does this game take?
Dad! Funtendo is unveiling their
new system in three minutes,
in Hall G!
And we're in Hall D.
Three halls, three minutes.
No problem.
Out of my way! Move it!
Geeks must yield to normals!
Room's full.
Hmm.
Aha!
Yay!
Woo-hoo!
Conventions rock!
Fun Dad rocks!
I need a nap!
You kids have had a big day.
Head up to the tub
while I deflate your toys.
Save us, Fun Dad!
The kids sure had
a good time with you.
Yeah, I was on today.
Scary on.
How come they never call me
Fun Mom?
Look, honey, a
family's like a team.
And on every team, you have
the slam-dunking megastar
and the referee.
It's not fair.
Moms want to be fun, but we're
stuck with all the mom stuff.
Okay, okay, how about this:
next week, you take the kids
on a Saturday Surprise Dad Day.
What if...
we roll pennies
and go to the dollar store?
That's good, Marge!
Get all the terrible
ideas out of your system.
Oh.
I've got it!
Your Saturday Surprise Mom Day
is the X-Games!
Yay! X-Games! X-Games!
All right!
That isn't an "X," Mom.
Welcome to the Cross Games,
Simpsons.
A Christian fellowship expo!
Are there at least games here?
Oh, no, "games"
stands for
Gathering of American Messengers
for Evangelical Sports.
Sports?
"Sports" stands for
Strict Parental Oversight
Rather Than Sports.
Come on, kids,
fun comes from inside.
It isn't about
what we actually do.
Yes, it is!
That's all it is!
You're right, you're right,
you're right.
Let's go.
Thank the Lord!
Two children
to play debtors
in the Parable
of the Unjust Steward.
All the other kids are at
something called the X-Games.
I'm sorry, gang.
I blew it.
I hate it when
grown-ups call kids "gang."
Don't worry about it, Mom.
Dad will take us on
a great outing next weekend.
Why do old squirrels always
crawl into my engine to die?
Oh.
Guess we'll be making an
unscheduled pit stop, gang.
We're not a gang!
Gangs are cool!
Uh, Mom, where are we?
Nowhere scary.
Everything's fine.
We'll just wait here
for the tow truck.
That newborn
has earrings!
Mom, we're hungry.
Oh.
I guess we could
make a sprint
for one of these
local establishments.
They're using pancakes
as spoons.
Ooh, let's see
what else they do wrong.
Ew!
Ugh!
They're selling CDs
in the restaurant!
Back to the car!
What can I get you?
Oh, I'll just have
a side salad.
We have no side salad.
Back to the car!
Relax, Mom.
Be adventurous.
Yeah, just have fun.
Dad would.
What's the craziest thing
on the menu?
She means
the most authentic.
Well, that would be
the Zelzel Minchet
Aletcha Wat.
Then I'll have that!
Okay, Marge,
you test-drove a convertible
once; you can do this.
Holy casserole-y!
That's good gloop!
I wish I lived in Ethiopia!
Exotic, getarian,
I can mention it
in a college essay.
Mom, this
is amazing!
Wait, wait, wait,
what is she eating?
They've never
served me that dish,
and I wear indigenous
beaded headgear.
Oh, this?
It's just a little
Zelzel Minchet Aletcha Wat.
It's all I ever eat here.
They have prepared her a dish
from the non-translated page!
So grab a pancake
and slurp some slop!
Foodies,
heed my call!
Commence ripping and dipping!
So, did all of your cars
break down?
Mom, they're
here on purpose.
They're foodies.
Indeed.
Our passion is to seek out
interesting foods,
savor their exotic flavors,
then blog about them.
Yes.
We discovered Korean barbeque
in this town.
Uh, before the Koreans?
Oh, sure they cook it,
but they don't get it.
"When you stick a pancake into a
friend's mouth, it's a goorsha."
Everybody goorsha!
Goorsha!
Goorsha! Goorsha! Goorsha! Goorsha!
Goorsha! Goorsha!
Goorsha! Goorsha!
Goorsha!
Marge, the kids
are acting ethnic!
Relax, Homie.
Have some leftover
Galalalalalalalalah.
Oh, no.
I don't eat anything new
unless I've eaten it before.
Aw, come on, Dad,
be a foodie.
You're already
a fatty and a drunkie.
I don't want to think about
food, I want to like it.
Why drive across town
to savor a bowl of mystery mush
when there's four different
Krusty Burgers
we can see from our house?
Oh, and here's my favorite
restaurant: La Fridge.
It's open 24 hours a day
and there's no dress code.
What kind of American man
doesn't want to explore
global food culture?
And then brag about
it on the Internet.
We should start
our own food blog.
The Three Mouthketeers.
Three?
You mean, one, two... me?
♪ We're blogging a food blog ♪
♪ Marge and Bart and Lisa
as one now ♪
♪ We're having fun now ♪
♪ Throwing down
mad foodie game ♪
♪ Knowing all the chefs' names ♪
♪ Rolling into K-town ♪
♪ Bibimbap and bulgogi ♪
♪ The hotties
that I chill with ♪
♪ Sriracha and kimchi ♪
♪ Give me house-made terrines ♪
♪ My duck is always confit ♪
♪ I braise with a billion more
BTUs than I need ♪
♪ Cook Thanksgiving turkey
in a trash bag, sous-vide ♪
♪ A fumatore in Brindisi
FedEx me salami ♪
♪ Don't scoop gelato
unless it's got umami ♪
♪ I'll be frank like Bruni,
ruthless like Reichl ♪
♪ Wiley like Dufresne
when I take the mic out ♪
♪ Rhyme about radicchio ♪
♪ Criticize Colicchio ♪
♪ Every pub is gastro ♪
♪ All my beef carpaccio ♪
♪ Throw it in the pho, yo ♪
♪ And don't you
call that pho pho ♪
♪ Talk about broth-squirting
dumplings ♪
♪ Dumplings,
dumplings, dumplings ♪
♪ We're blogging a food blog ♪
♪ Uploading pics with ♪
♪ Our Fun Mom, Fun Mom,
Fun Mom. ♪
People are loving
our list
of Springfield's top 99
Afghan restaurants.
I feel bad for all those places
that didn't make the cut.
All right, food
nerds, reality check.
All the food in those
pictures is poop by now.
Minds blown,
you're welcome.
Oh.
I'll remind you kids
what real fun is.
Hey, hey, kids!
Krustyland has a new ride.
The Eyeballs of Death.
It only passed the safety panel
by a three-to-two vote.
And that third vote
didn't come cheap.
And I've got tickets
for the grand opening
Saturday night.
Whoa!
Cool.
Uh, kids,
don't forget
about our special plans
Saturday night.
Oh, sorry, Dad.
Our blog is so popular,
we got an invitation
to the most exclusive
restaurant in town.
Kent Brockman himself
could only get
a reservation at 5:30 or 9:30.
It's called
El Chemistri,
and they use science
to make the food.
Behold... pine needle sorbet.
Pine needle... sorbet?
Pine needle sorbet?
My kids do not eat sorbet;
they eat sherbet.
And they pronounce
it "sherbert,"
and they wish it
was ice cream.
Sorry, Dad, this
is our thing now.
Fine, blow off Fun Dad
and go eat your walrus mustaches
and deep-fried pixie wangs.
Don't be so jealous, Homie,
just because the kids
are finally having fun
doing something with me.
Aah! Jealous? Me?
That is to laugh.
The very idea.
If anything...
you're the one who's jealous.
Of what?
Of how much fun
I am to be around!
It's always a party
with Fun Dad!
Too sad to walk.
Too sad and fun to walk.
What are you doing?
When I'm sad, I make
baseball bats.
Homie, I don't want you
to feel excluded.
Would you like
to come with us
to dinner
at El Chemistri?
Really?
You'd let me in
on your thing?
Even though I think
it's stupid?
Of course.
Hand me that
saw, Marge.
Why?
When I'm happy,
I make birdhouses.
Kids, guess what.
Mom invited me
to your fancy dinner.
Cool.
Awesome!
I guess Fun Dad
is a foodie now.
Food Dad! Food Dad! Food Dad!
I'm food bad boy Tony Bourdain.
There's nowhere I won't go
and nothing I won't eat,
as long as I'm paid in emeralds
and my hotel room has a bidet
that shoots warm champagne.
I'm here at a Singapore
street-food market
with famous blogging family,
the Three Mouthketeers.
Marge, you've got to try
some of this hang hir kuay chap.
Ooh, triple spicy
barbecued stingray
stuffed with
pig organs.
Fun Dad
is a foodie now!
This is my thing
and always will be.
Food Dad! Food Dad!
Food Dad!
Everything's more fun
with Homer.
But this was all I had.
Stop your bloody whinging, Marge.
Aah! Gordon Ramsay!
You (bleep) it up,
big blue, didn't you?
Why did you
invite Homer?
He stole your
bloody thunder.
You're not as
fun as him,
and you never will be.
Darling, darling,
crying's not fun.
Homer's fun.
Now, get out
of my dream.
It's my dream.
Not anymore it's not.
Ramsay, awake.
What in the hell was that?
Fun me. Fun me. Fun me.
Kids, I was thinking, was
it really such a great idea
to invite your father
to that dinner?
Relax-- Dad will be
the life of the party.
He'll be the fourth
Mouthketeer.
But there weren't
four Musketeers.
Yeah-huh. Athos, Porthos,
Aramis and D'Artagnan.
D'Artagnan wasn't
a Musketeer.
He only had a letter
of introduction
to the captain of the guards--
which he lost!
You know, I'm pretty excited
about this far-out dinner.
Maybe I'll like it.
Oh, I doubt it.
You sit at communal tables
full of hipsters.
Well, actually,
I've come around on hipsters.
Takes a lot of guts
to all wear the same hat.
And the food will all
be weird foams--
cooked with chemicals
or served in a test tube.
It's too crazy for you.
So it's weird.
Don't worry, I'll make it fun.
Yeah, you always do.
Well, here's where to meet us.
1501 W...
East Oak Street.
East Oak Street.
Is that it?
Uh... yes.
Yes, East Oak Street.
That's where you should go.
See you there.
Don't you judge me.
Ah, save it for
the sitter.
Welcome
to El Chemistri.
Please place these mints
in your mouth,
and when your table is ready,
they will vibrate.
Ooh.
Here it is: 1501 East Oak.
No name on the door--
very trendy.
What do you want?
Is this the chemical
kitchen place
where you do the
crazy cooking?
Quiet, man.
The experience begins.
Where's Dad?
Uh...
I don't know.
Probably
changed his mind
and stopped off
for doughnuts.
Before you
is a deconstructed
Caesar salad:
romaine lettuce gel,
egg yolk ice,
crouton foam
and anchovy air.
You eat it like this:
gel, ice, foam, air,
foam, ice, gel, foam, air.
Just like Marge said--
chemicals and test tubes.
The open kitchen
is a nice touch.
I guess I'll get started
before my family gets here.
How much for a taste?
You know,
just to get me going.
50 bucks.
Ouch. This place is fancy.
The next course is Regret.
Hipsters.
Too cool for school.
You don't look like the
kind of guy who does this.
Well, my wife thinks
it's too crazy for me,
but I'm going
to prove her wrong.
I'm doing this
for my family.
All right, Breaking Baddies,
drop the meth.
Pick up the meth!
Pick up the meth!
This better be dinner theater!
And now,
pork chops 100 ways.
Ooh.
100 pork chops!
I can't believe Dad
is missing this.
Sure, your dad's great,
but I'm fun, too.
Look at me eat, huh?
D'oh. D'oh. D'oh.
Who am I kidding?
I'm not enjoying this.
Even the foam
tastes like nothing.
I'm calling Homer.
Marge!
This isn't a food restaurant!
It's a meth restaurant!
A meth-taurant! Aah!
Foodies, help me!
My husband's in danger!
Oh, we can't leave now.
We haven't had
the root vegetables
cooked in the perfect vacuum
of outer space.
They say you can't even
understand parsnips
until you had
zero-g parsnips.
How dare you
walk out on me!
Your dessert is in
this doggie bag
woven from the silk of
a blueberry-fed spider.
Take it and go!
Ah, shucks.
We get the family
dressed up to go
to our favorite meth lab,
and it's all raided out.
Oh, honey,
I always liked
your home-cooked
better anyways.
Aw.
Uh, where do you
think you're going?
A wife needs to tell her
husband she was wrong.
And in you go.
Sorry.
Everything you've done
here has created problems.
I've got to save him.
Ooh.
My dessert.
Eat deconstructed apple pie!
Merci, Maman,
pour la tarte tatin à la mode.
Oh, Marge,
you saved me
from the danger
you put me in.
I am so happy
and angry.
I'm sorry.
I guess I just
wanted the kids
to look at me the way
they look at you.
Aw.
Wow, Mom!
That was awesome.
We ate
mad-scientist food
and broke up a meth lab
in the same day.
Fun Mom! Fun Mom!
Fun Mom!
Now, that's my kind
of foam.
This is nice.
A family fun day.
Here's 50 bucks.
For the next
two hours,
I don't want
to know you exist.
Family fun day.
== sync, corrected by elderman ==
♪ We're bloggin' a food blog ♪
♪ Settin' up accounts
for our users ♪
♪ Usin' computers ♪
♪ Post tweets every day ♪
♪ Yo, yo,
tweets every day, y'all ♪
♪ Never give it four stars ♪
♪ Ain't never give it
four stars ♪
♪ Maybe two, maybe three ♪
♪ Moderatin' the comments ♪
♪ Checkin' the page views,
page views, page views ♪
♪ Duck fat ♪
♪ Truffle oil, yo, yo, yo ♪
♪ My food is art,
my food is art ♪
♪ It comes
right from the heart. ♪
Shh!
The Food Wife
Original Air Date on November 13, 2011
== sync, corrected by elderman ==
And here's a marble for Lisa
for cleaning her room,
and a marble for Bart
for not trashing Lisa's room.
The jars are full,
so you've earned
your Saturday Surprise Dad Day!
Yay!
This Saturday, from the dad who
brought you cemetery paintball
and go-karts on real roads,
comes the greatest
activity yet...
Video game convention!
And check these out.
VIP passes!
Is there any better feeling
than cutting in line
because a plastic badge
says you're special?
GTS!
So many games.
- Ah.
- Wow.
Whoa.
W.O.K.?!
Ooh, the Flying Tomato.
Ah! TMTOLO!
DL2L-to-D!
Oh! ACSOL!
HC1?!
Whoa! Guts of War Two:
Entrails of Intestinox!
Colon slash!
Rectum kill!
We've made a game that'll
reward the hardcore gamer
with hundreds and hundreds
of hours of...
- Finished it.
- Huh?
But working on this game
cost me my marriage.
I-I have twins
I've never met!
Well, when you meet them,
tell them your game's too easy.
This game has all the best
college marching bands.
From the precision footwork
of Ohio State
to the lame, dead-on-arrival
humor of Stanford.
("Stars and Stripes Forever"
playing)
Uh-oh, I'm losing the crowd!
Level cleared.
Next level: study for chemistry
test on 12-hour bus ride home.
This is the funnest game ever!
Man, how many quarters
does this game take?
Dad! Funtendo is unveiling their
new system in three minutes,
in Hall G!
And we're in Hall D.
Three halls, three minutes.
No problem.
Out of my way! Move it!
Geeks must yield to normals!
Room's full.
Hmm.
Aha!
Yay!
Woo-hoo!
Conventions rock!
Fun Dad rocks!
I need a nap!
You kids have had a big day.
Head up to the tub
while I deflate your toys.
Save us, Fun Dad!
The kids sure had
a good time with you.
Yeah, I was on today.
Scary on.
How come they never call me
Fun Mom?
Look, honey, a
family's like a team.
And on every team, you have
the slam-dunking megastar
and the referee.
It's not fair.
Moms want to be fun, but we're
stuck with all the mom stuff.
Okay, okay, how about this:
next week, you take the kids
on a Saturday Surprise Dad Day.
What if...
we roll pennies
and go to the dollar store?
That's good, Marge!
Get all the terrible
ideas out of your system.
Oh.
I've got it!
Your Saturday Surprise Mom Day
is the X-Games!
Yay! X-Games! X-Games!
All right!
That isn't an "X," Mom.
Welcome to the Cross Games,
Simpsons.
A Christian fellowship expo!
Are there at least games here?
Oh, no, "games"
stands for
Gathering of American Messengers
for Evangelical Sports.
Sports?
"Sports" stands for
Strict Parental Oversight
Rather Than Sports.
Come on, kids,
fun comes from inside.
It isn't about
what we actually do.
Yes, it is!
That's all it is!
You're right, you're right,
you're right.
Let's go.
Thank the Lord!
Two children
to play debtors
in the Parable
of the Unjust Steward.
All the other kids are at
something called the X-Games.
I'm sorry, gang.
I blew it.
I hate it when
grown-ups call kids "gang."
Don't worry about it, Mom.
Dad will take us on
a great outing next weekend.
Why do old squirrels always
crawl into my engine to die?
Oh.
Guess we'll be making an
unscheduled pit stop, gang.
We're not a gang!
Gangs are cool!
Uh, Mom, where are we?
Nowhere scary.
Everything's fine.
We'll just wait here
for the tow truck.
That newborn
has earrings!
Mom, we're hungry.
Oh.
I guess we could
make a sprint
for one of these
local establishments.
They're using pancakes
as spoons.
Ooh, let's see
what else they do wrong.
Ew!
Ugh!
They're selling CDs
in the restaurant!
Back to the car!
What can I get you?
Oh, I'll just have
a side salad.
We have no side salad.
Back to the car!
Relax, Mom.
Be adventurous.
Yeah, just have fun.
Dad would.
What's the craziest thing
on the menu?
She means
the most authentic.
Well, that would be
the Zelzel Minchet
Aletcha Wat.
Then I'll have that!
Okay, Marge,
you test-drove a convertible
once; you can do this.
Holy casserole-y!
That's good gloop!
I wish I lived in Ethiopia!
Exotic, getarian,
I can mention it
in a college essay.
Mom, this
is amazing!
Wait, wait, wait,
what is she eating?
They've never
served me that dish,
and I wear indigenous
beaded headgear.
Oh, this?
It's just a little
Zelzel Minchet Aletcha Wat.
It's all I ever eat here.
They have prepared her a dish
from the non-translated page!
So grab a pancake
and slurp some slop!
Foodies,
heed my call!
Commence ripping and dipping!
So, did all of your cars
break down?
Mom, they're
here on purpose.
They're foodies.
Indeed.
Our passion is to seek out
interesting foods,
savor their exotic flavors,
then blog about them.
Yes.
We discovered Korean barbeque
in this town.
Uh, before the Koreans?
Oh, sure they cook it,
but they don't get it.
"When you stick a pancake into a
friend's mouth, it's a goorsha."
Everybody goorsha!
Goorsha!
Goorsha! Goorsha! Goorsha! Goorsha!
Goorsha! Goorsha!
Goorsha! Goorsha!
Goorsha!
Marge, the kids
are acting ethnic!
Relax, Homie.
Have some leftover
Galalalalalalalalah.
Oh, no.
I don't eat anything new
unless I've eaten it before.
Aw, come on, Dad,
be a foodie.
You're already
a fatty and a drunkie.
I don't want to think about
food, I want to like it.
Why drive across town
to savor a bowl of mystery mush
when there's four different
Krusty Burgers
we can see from our house?
Oh, and here's my favorite
restaurant: La Fridge.
It's open 24 hours a day
and there's no dress code.
What kind of American man
doesn't want to explore
global food culture?
And then brag about
it on the Internet.
We should start
our own food blog.
The Three Mouthketeers.
Three?
You mean, one, two... me?
♪ We're blogging a food blog ♪
♪ Marge and Bart and Lisa
as one now ♪
♪ We're having fun now ♪
♪ Throwing down
mad foodie game ♪
♪ Knowing all the chefs' names ♪
♪ Rolling into K-town ♪
♪ Bibimbap and bulgogi ♪
♪ The hotties
that I chill with ♪
♪ Sriracha and kimchi ♪
♪ Give me house-made terrines ♪
♪ My duck is always confit ♪
♪ I braise with a billion more
BTUs than I need ♪
♪ Cook Thanksgiving turkey
in a trash bag, sous-vide ♪
♪ A fumatore in Brindisi
FedEx me salami ♪
♪ Don't scoop gelato
unless it's got umami ♪
♪ I'll be frank like Bruni,
ruthless like Reichl ♪
♪ Wiley like Dufresne
when I take the mic out ♪
♪ Rhyme about radicchio ♪
♪ Criticize Colicchio ♪
♪ Every pub is gastro ♪
♪ All my beef carpaccio ♪
♪ Throw it in the pho, yo ♪
♪ And don't you
call that pho pho ♪
♪ Talk about broth-squirting
dumplings ♪
♪ Dumplings,
dumplings, dumplings ♪
♪ We're blogging a food blog ♪
♪ Uploading pics with ♪
♪ Our Fun Mom, Fun Mom,
Fun Mom. ♪
People are loving
our list
of Springfield's top 99
Afghan restaurants.
I feel bad for all those places
that didn't make the cut.
All right, food
nerds, reality check.
All the food in those
pictures is poop by now.
Minds blown,
you're welcome.
Oh.
I'll remind you kids
what real fun is.
Hey, hey, kids!
Krustyland has a new ride.
The Eyeballs of Death.
It only passed the safety panel
by a three-to-two vote.
And that third vote
didn't come cheap.
And I've got tickets
for the grand opening
Saturday night.
Whoa!
Cool.
Uh, kids,
don't forget
about our special plans
Saturday night.
Oh, sorry, Dad.
Our blog is so popular,
we got an invitation
to the most exclusive
restaurant in town.
Kent Brockman himself
could only get
a reservation at 5:30 or 9:30.
It's called
El Chemistri,
and they use science
to make the food.
Behold... pine needle sorbet.
Pine needle... sorbet?
Pine needle sorbet?
My kids do not eat sorbet;
they eat sherbet.
And they pronounce
it "sherbert,"
and they wish it
was ice cream.
Sorry, Dad, this
is our thing now.
Fine, blow off Fun Dad
and go eat your walrus mustaches
and deep-fried pixie wangs.
Don't be so jealous, Homie,
just because the kids
are finally having fun
doing something with me.
Aah! Jealous? Me?
That is to laugh.
The very idea.
If anything...
you're the one who's jealous.
Of what?
Of how much fun
I am to be around!
It's always a party
with Fun Dad!
Too sad to walk.
Too sad and fun to walk.
What are you doing?
When I'm sad, I make
baseball bats.
Homie, I don't want you
to feel excluded.
Would you like
to come with us
to dinner
at El Chemistri?
Really?
You'd let me in
on your thing?
Even though I think
it's stupid?
Of course.
Hand me that
saw, Marge.
Why?
When I'm happy,
I make birdhouses.
Kids, guess what.
Mom invited me
to your fancy dinner.
Cool.
Awesome!
I guess Fun Dad
is a foodie now.
Food Dad! Food Dad! Food Dad!
I'm food bad boy Tony Bourdain.
There's nowhere I won't go
and nothing I won't eat,
as long as I'm paid in emeralds
and my hotel room has a bidet
that shoots warm champagne.
I'm here at a Singapore
street-food market
with famous blogging family,
the Three Mouthketeers.
Marge, you've got to try
some of this hang hir kuay chap.
Ooh, triple spicy
barbecued stingray
stuffed with
pig organs.
Fun Dad
is a foodie now!
This is my thing
and always will be.
Food Dad! Food Dad!
Food Dad!
Everything's more fun
with Homer.
But this was all I had.
Stop your bloody whinging, Marge.
Aah! Gordon Ramsay!
You (bleep) it up,
big blue, didn't you?
Why did you
invite Homer?
He stole your
bloody thunder.
You're not as
fun as him,
and you never will be.
Darling, darling,
crying's not fun.
Homer's fun.
Now, get out
of my dream.
It's my dream.
Not anymore it's not.
Ramsay, awake.
What in the hell was that?
Fun me. Fun me. Fun me.
Kids, I was thinking, was
it really such a great idea
to invite your father
to that dinner?
Relax-- Dad will be
the life of the party.
He'll be the fourth
Mouthketeer.
But there weren't
four Musketeers.
Yeah-huh. Athos, Porthos,
Aramis and D'Artagnan.
D'Artagnan wasn't
a Musketeer.
He only had a letter
of introduction
to the captain of the guards--
which he lost!
You know, I'm pretty excited
about this far-out dinner.
Maybe I'll like it.
Oh, I doubt it.
You sit at communal tables
full of hipsters.
Well, actually,
I've come around on hipsters.
Takes a lot of guts
to all wear the same hat.
And the food will all
be weird foams--
cooked with chemicals
or served in a test tube.
It's too crazy for you.
So it's weird.
Don't worry, I'll make it fun.
Yeah, you always do.
Well, here's where to meet us.
1501 W...
East Oak Street.
East Oak Street.
Is that it?
Uh... yes.
Yes, East Oak Street.
That's where you should go.
See you there.
Don't you judge me.
Ah, save it for
the sitter.
Welcome
to El Chemistri.
Please place these mints
in your mouth,
and when your table is ready,
they will vibrate.
Ooh.
Here it is: 1501 East Oak.
No name on the door--
very trendy.
What do you want?
Is this the chemical
kitchen place
where you do the
crazy cooking?
Quiet, man.
The experience begins.
Where's Dad?
Uh...
I don't know.
Probably
changed his mind
and stopped off
for doughnuts.
Before you
is a deconstructed
Caesar salad:
romaine lettuce gel,
egg yolk ice,
crouton foam
and anchovy air.
You eat it like this:
gel, ice, foam, air,
foam, ice, gel, foam, air.
Just like Marge said--
chemicals and test tubes.
The open kitchen
is a nice touch.
I guess I'll get started
before my family gets here.
How much for a taste?
You know,
just to get me going.
50 bucks.
Ouch. This place is fancy.
The next course is Regret.
Hipsters.
Too cool for school.
You don't look like the
kind of guy who does this.
Well, my wife thinks
it's too crazy for me,
but I'm going
to prove her wrong.
I'm doing this
for my family.
All right, Breaking Baddies,
drop the meth.
Pick up the meth!
Pick up the meth!
This better be dinner theater!
And now,
pork chops 100 ways.
Ooh.
100 pork chops!
I can't believe Dad
is missing this.
Sure, your dad's great,
but I'm fun, too.
Look at me eat, huh?
D'oh. D'oh. D'oh.
Who am I kidding?
I'm not enjoying this.
Even the foam
tastes like nothing.
I'm calling Homer.
Marge!
This isn't a food restaurant!
It's a meth restaurant!
A meth-taurant! Aah!
Foodies, help me!
My husband's in danger!
Oh, we can't leave now.
We haven't had
the root vegetables
cooked in the perfect vacuum
of outer space.
They say you can't even
understand parsnips
until you had
zero-g parsnips.
How dare you
walk out on me!
Your dessert is in
this doggie bag
woven from the silk of
a blueberry-fed spider.
Take it and go!
Ah, shucks.
We get the family
dressed up to go
to our favorite meth lab,
and it's all raided out.
Oh, honey,
I always liked
your home-cooked
better anyways.
Aw.
Uh, where do you
think you're going?
A wife needs to tell her
husband she was wrong.
And in you go.
Sorry.
Everything you've done
here has created problems.
I've got to save him.
Ooh.
My dessert.
Eat deconstructed apple pie!
Merci, Maman,
pour la tarte tatin à la mode.
Oh, Marge,
you saved me
from the danger
you put me in.
I am so happy
and angry.
I'm sorry.
I guess I just
wanted the kids
to look at me the way
they look at you.
Aw.
Wow, Mom!
That was awesome.
We ate
mad-scientist food
and broke up a meth lab
in the same day.
Fun Mom! Fun Mom!
Fun Mom!
Now, that's my kind
of foam.
This is nice.
A family fun day.
Here's 50 bucks.
For the next
two hours,
I don't want
to know you exist.
Family fun day.
== sync, corrected by elderman ==
♪ We're bloggin' a food blog ♪
♪ Settin' up accounts
for our users ♪
♪ Usin' computers ♪
♪ Post tweets every day ♪
♪ Yo, yo,
tweets every day, y'all ♪
♪ Never give it four stars ♪
♪ Ain't never give it
four stars ♪
♪ Maybe two, maybe three ♪
♪ Moderatin' the comments ♪
♪ Checkin' the page views,
page views, page views ♪
♪ Duck fat ♪
♪ Truffle oil, yo, yo, yo ♪
♪ My food is art,
my food is art ♪
♪ It comes
right from the heart. ♪
Shh!