02x20 - Louise's Cookbook

[bunniefuu]

♪ Well, we're movin' on up ♪

♪ Movin' on up ♪

♪ To the East Side ♪

♪ Movin' on up ♪

♪ To a deluxe
apartment In the sky ♪

♪ Movin' on up ♪

♪ Movin' on up ♪

♪ To the East Side ♪

♪ We're movin' on up ♪

♪ We finally got A
piece of the pie ♪

♪ Fish don't fry
In the kitchen ♪

♪ Beans don't
burn On the grill ♪

♪ Took a whole lot of
trying Just to get up that hill ♪

♪ Now we're up
In the big leagues ♪

♪ Getting our turn at bat ♪

♪ As long as we live
It's you and me, baby ♪

♪ There ain't nothing
Wrong with that ♪

♪ Well, we're movin' on up ♪

♪ Movin' on up ♪

♪ To the East Side ♪

♪ Movin' on up ♪

♪ To a deluxe
apartment In the sky ♪

♪ Movin' on up ♪

♪ Movin' on up ♪

♪ To the East Side ♪

♪ We're movin' on up ♪

♪ We finally got A
piece of the pie ♪♪

Ain't that the latest?

The Navy just promoted a woman

all the way up to Admiral.

It's about time.

Yeah. When we were
fighting over in Korea,

I sure could have used
a woman on my ship.

Mmm.

George!

I mean, to do the laundry.

So that's all a woman
is good for, huh?

Just to do your laundry?

No, I mean, the
Chinese could do it better,

but we was fighting them.

Will you move the
paper so we can eat?

Sure, Weez. What are we having?

Something we haven't
had for a long time.

Mmm. Smells familiar.

What is it?

Ta-dah! Possum stew!

Oo-ee!

Possum stew!

Shoobee-doo!

It used to be one
of your favorites.

It still is.

Then how come
haven't you asked for it

since we left Harlem?

Because I don't want
people to see me eating it.

Why not?

Look, I'm president
of Jefferson Cleaners,

and we presidents
got to watch our image.

[DOORBELL RINGS]

Well, Mr. President,
to uphold your image,

why don't you wipe that
possum gravy off your chin?

Hi, Louise.

I can't find my
screwdriver anywhere.

Do you have one I could borrow?

Yes. No.

Uh, yes and no.

Which is it?

Both. Yes, we got one,

and no, I don't feel like
going up to the store to get it.

Oh, George.

Look, Willis, we
just sat down to eat.

If you want to borrow
something, come back after dinner.

Don't pay no attention to him.

Come in, Tom.

I think there's one
in the junk drawer.

I hope so. I've asked everybody.

Bentley doesn't have one.
Ralph doesn't have one.

Oh, what's that
dish you're having?

It smells great.

This is French cooking.

Oh, why, it looks
like ragout de mouton.

Ah, that's what it is!

Oh, my favorite!

Do you mind?

Mmm.

Oh, delicious.

Though I've never tasted
anything quite like it before.

That's because them French
chefs can't cook as good as Weezy.

All I could find
was this one, Tom.

It's perfect.

As a matter of fact, it's mine.

What's the big idea,

leaving your old
tools down here?

He didn't leave it.

You borrowed it last month
to fix the dripping faucet.

What dripping faucet?

The faucet that's
still dripping.

Well, thanks, Louise.

I think I'll be going now.

Good.

Right after I have
one more tiny sample

of this ragout.

Hello, there.

Tom, what are you doing?

Have you forgotten
that I'm upstairs

waiting for you to
fix the television?

I want to watch that special.

What's wrong with
your television?

The picture has no color.

So what?

You two ought to be used
to black and white by now.

We'll get this back to
you real quick, George,

because you've got
a screw loose for sure.

Mmm.

Is that what I think?

Possum stew!

Possum?

Possum?

Weezy! You lied to me!

Possum?

This sure does
taste good, Louise.

My grandmother used to fix this.

So did mine.

In fact, I used
her special recipe.

Really?

Did you enjoy it, Tom?

Well, it's different.

Good. Then I'll get the
recipe for you, Helen.

Wonderful.

Then I can cook some
possum for us, Tom.

Oh, I wouldn't want

to put you to all that trouble.

No trouble at all.

I haven't had anything
like this in a long time.

Me neither.

Someday I'm going
to put these recipes

in some kind of order.

And maybe someday

somebody's going to
serve me my dinner.

They look a hundred years old.

My grandmother
wrote them all down

for my mother when
she got married,

and Mom passed them on to me.

Would you hurry up and pass
them on to them so I can eat?

Ah, here it is, possum stew.

First, sh**t and wash
one medium-size possum.

Actually, George
is eating rabbit.

You can't buy possum anymore,

but George never could
taste the difference.

Here, let me see that.

"There's more than one
way to skin a possum,

"but there ain't no
way you can do it

so as the possum will like it."

Oh, that's charming.

Oh, here's a good one.

Stuffed porgy and corn pudding.

"Take a handful of corn
and a handful of flour,

"then pray to the Lord
you ain't got to sneeze,

because both
your hands is full."

My grandmother had
a saying for everything.

Yep, like "Two's company
and four's a crowd."

This is great.

Do you realize what
you have here, Louise?

A couple of trespassers
and a pot of cold stew.

But seriously.

With these soul food
recipes and quaint directions,

you've got the makings
of a sensational cookbook.

A cookbook?

Now, who's going
to pay good money

for a ghetto cookbook?

In case you ain't heard, Willis,

people are trying
to get out, not in.

Louise, if I could sell
the idea to my boss,

how long would it take you

to put all these
recipes into book form?

Come on, man!

Weezy ain't no book writer.

What makes you think
your boss will like the idea?

Because he likes money, and
cookbooks always make money.

Look, Willis...

And a good soul food cookbook

with tasty
inexpensive recipes...

why, Louise, you
could make a fortune!

A fortune?

Yes. Look at Vincent Price.

Why, he made a
bundle with his cookbook.

Hey, Weezy, where
are your manners?

Why don't you invite
the Willises to dinner?

So nice of you to
think of us, George.

I can see that invitation
came right from the heart...

of your wallet.

Well, I don't think we should.

You weren't expecting us.

Oh, there won't be enough.

We got enough.

A little possum goes a long way.

Helen, didn't you want to
watch that comedy special?

I'll get more laughs
watching you.

But, Helen... Just
close your eyes, Tom,

and you'll swear
you're eating rabbit.

That's right, Willis, you
can't tell the difference.

Sit down, Tom.

Well...

Eat hearty.

Hey, Mom, which
tie do you think I...

Shh. Don't you know
you're not supposed to bother

a great author
when she's creating?

Sorry.

Hey, Mom, what's
a grooted onion?

Grooted?

Oh, that's supposed
to be "grated."

Maybe I'm typing too fast.

[TELEPHONE RINGS]

Hey, don't worry about it, Mom.

You know something?

I'm really proud of
what you're doing.

Hello? Yes, she is.

Hey, Weezy, good news.

I just landed that
big motel account.

Hey, Mom!

It's a guy from the
publicity department

of Mr. Willis' company.

They're doing a story on you.

He's in the neighborhood,
and he wants to know

if he can come
by and talk to you.

The publicity department?

Well, sure.

Tell him to come over.

Hey! Didn't you
hear my good news?

I just landed that
big motel account.

Congratulations, George.

You should have seen
the way I was talking...

Hey, Pop, how does it feel

being married to someone
who's going to be famous?

Ask your mother. She knows.

How about that, Mom? They're
going to do a story on you.

Oh? Do you think
I look all right?

Well, you can take the pencils

out of your hair.

Hey!

Don't nobody want to hear

how I landed my
big motel account?

Oh, not now, George.

I've got to finish this list.

Mmm. What list? Shopping list?

Or is it a list of things
that ain't been getting done

around the apartment lately?

Neither. It's a list of tenants

who want autographed
copies of my book.

Mrs. Jefferson,

do you think you can get
me an autographed copy too?

[DOORBELL RINGS]

Of course, Lionel,

as long as you don't
mind waiting in line.

Oh, hello, Helen. Come on in.

Thanks, Louise.

I've got a surprise for you.

What's this? Open it.

$500!

What's this for?

For writing your cookbook.

Tom asked me to
bring it down to you.

But she didn't even
finish writing it yet.

This is an advance

based on the first chapters.

And believe me,

when Tom's company
gives an advance

to an unknown author,
that's something!

Your book will be
a smash, Louise.

I've never earned this
much at one time in my life!

I can't believe it!

Hey, they made a mistake.

It says "Louise Mills."
That's your maiden name.

Yep. And now it's my pen name.

That was my idea.

Well, so long, author.

So long, Helen,
and thanks so much!

Oh, hi, Mrs. Willis.

I didn't know you were here.

I'm not. She's all yours.

Oh, thank you.

Who are you?

Peter Brooks,

public relations for
Pellin Publishing.

Oh, now try Peter Piper

picked a peck of
pickled peppers.

I'm supposed to
see Louise Mills.

She's my wife.

May I speak with her?

Help yourself.

Oh, thank you, Mr. Mills.

Let's make this quick, Brooks.

What do you want to know?

Well, I'd like to know a
few things about our author.

Ain't much to tell.
I'm George Jefferson,

owner of Jefferson Cleaners,

and she's my wife.

But I'd like to find out some
more personal information

about your wife.

Now, we might as well
start at the beginning.

Where were you born?

In a hospital! Where else?

My husband and I
come from Harlem.

Harlem?

Hmm. That could be
an interesting angle.

"Woman writes her
way out of the ghetto."

"Woman writes her
way out of the ghetto?"

That ain't how it happened.

Look, I'll tell you
how it happened.

She married me, and
we drove out in a van.

Please, Mister Mills.

Jefferson, damn it!

I'll have to erase that.

Look, Mr. Jefferson, we
want your wife to sell books.

You going to make
her go door to door?

Mr. Jefferson, that's funny.

Maybe we could say

that Louise created
her soul food recipes

while living in Harlem,

struggling to put food
on the family table.

Well, actually, Mr. Brooks,

it was my grandmother
who created the recipes.

Louise Mills ain't struggled

to put food on nobody's table.

I did.

And I always
managed to do it too.

Mr. Jefferson, I don't
think you understand.

I ain't the one that
don't understand!

Louise Mills and I
got married in 1952.

I worked a lot of jobs
and saved my money

and opened up a cleaning store.

Now I got a whole
chain of cleaning stores

and a high-rise
on the East Side,

and Louise Mills
lives happily ever after

as Louise Jefferson. The End.

Oh, we'll have to
do better than that.

But that's the
truth, Mr. Brooks.

Well, sometimes
we can't tell the truth.

It's too confusing.

Look, public relations
is my business,

and frankly, your real life
as Mrs. George Jefferson

is... dull.

What we have to do...

I'll tell you what
we have to do.

We have to say goodbye.

George... You
just stay out of this.

But... But, nothing!

What about my tape recorder?

If you ain't out of
here in 10 seconds,

it's going to self-destruct.

But we didn't get a chance

to talk about some
of those recipes.

Oh, you want a recipe?

I got a recipe for
you. Stuffed turkey.

Stuffed turkey?

Yeah. Take your tape
recorder and stuff it, turkey.

George, why did you do that?

You may have ruined my
chances to do that cookbook.

Good. Then you can go
back to being my wife again.

Where is it written that
I can't write a cookbook

and be your wife
at the same time?

N-O.

Right there, Weezy,
in black and white.

But I've signed a contract

with Tom Willis' company.

I've got to do that cookbook.

You ain't got to do nothing.

They gave me
this check for $500!

Well, I can take
care of that quick.

George, that was my check!

Yeah, well, I'll make
you another one.

I'll show you some
writing that's really writing.

Only I'm going to pay you more

than Willis' old cheap company.

$501.

That ain't enough?
I'll make it $601.

I've got all the money you need.

George, don't you see?

I earned that money.

It made me feel wanted.

Oh, you want to feel wanted?

I want you to go out in the
kitchen and cook my dinner.

All this fighting has
made me hungry.

Well, then, buy
yourself a restaurant.

Hey! Ain't you listening?

There ain't going to be no work,

because they ain't
going to be no cookbook.

George, get this through
your head right now.

There is going to be a cookbook.

Then you got a big
choice to make, sister.

Do you want to be my
wife or Aunt Jemima?

Where you going?

To make some pancakes!

What are you staring at?

Why don't you want
Mom doing her cookbook?

Your mother is
getting carried away

with this cookbook job.

Oh, Pop, don't you dig it?

It's something she's
doing on her own,

and something that
makes her feel important.

Lionel, your mother
is already important.

She's Mrs. George
Jefferson, ain't she?

But Pop, maybe Mom wants
to be important on her own.

Look, one important person
in this house is enough.

Hey, you're jealous!

Jealous?

Me jealous?

You're accusing
me of being jealous?

You don't want anybody
sharing the spotlight with you.

This ain't got nothing
to do with no spotlight.

Hey, don't get upset, Pop.

I ain't upset.

Yes, you are. No, I ain't!

Then why did you write

"Pay to the order
of Louise Mills"?

I'm sick of this whole thing!

I'll be glad not to
hear about it no more!

You really think Mom's going
to give up doing that cookbook?

No, I don't think so. I know so.

Soon as she finds out
how crazy she's been acting,

she'll be back here
to apologize in a flash.

[DOORBELL RINGS]

See? She's back already.

Mom.

Hello, George, is Louise home?

No, Mama, she just
stepped out for a while.

Oh dear!

What's wrong?

I had some recipes
I wanted to give her

to put in her cookbook.

Hey, that's real nice, Grandma.

Well, Lord knows when
it comes to cooking,

Louise needs all
the help she can get.

Yeah, well, Mama,
I ain't so sure

Weezy's going to be
writing the cookbook.

Why not? Well...

Pop told her he
doesn't want her to do it.

Look, Weezy has
been working too hard,

and it ain't healthy.

That's true. She's
not used to hard work.

But I don't understand.

Look, Mama, why don't
you go freshen up a bit,

and I'll make you a
bloody mary, okay?

All right, George,
if you insist.

But make it small.

You know I hardly ever
have a drink before 5:00.

Oh, but it's already
a quarter to 6.

Then in that case,
make it a double.

You know, it'll
really be a shame

if this cookbook
never gets published.

Your mother will get over it.

Yeah, but what about you?

Me?

Now, wouldn't you
like to go into a library

and pick up a book and
see your name in print?

My name? What
are you talking about?

Your mother is using
her maiden name.

No, I mean this...

"To my wonderful
husband, George Jefferson,

"without whose love and patience

I never would have been
able to complete this book."

Oh, she didn't
have to mention me.

Sounds like a dedication page.

Your mother was going to
dedicate the book to me?

Sure is a nice
dedication, isn't it?

Too bad nobody's ever

going to get a
chance to read it.

I think you're being
very foolish about this,

denying your wife the
right to her own career.

George...

Wait a minute, Weezy,
before you say anything else.

I've been thinking about this,

and I want you to
do the cookbook.

George, there's
no earthly reason...

You do?

Yeah, Weezy, look.

I been thinking wrong, Weezy.

I mean, I didn't realize
the dedication was for...

I mean, I didn't realize

your dedication
for this project.

If writing this book
means that much to you,

I ain't going to
stand in your way.

Oh, thank you, George.

Well, I'm glad you
see it that way, George.

You ain't got to be that glad.

Your cookbook is going
to be a big success.

Oh, I'm so proud
of you, Louise Mills!

Oh, George!

[CLEARING THROAT]

Hi, Mother Jefferson,
how are you feeling?

Terrible.

I went to all the trouble
to bring you my recipes,

and now you're quitting on me.

No, she ain't, Mama.

I wouldn't let her quit.

Good. I have a recipe
for Hopping John

that you must put
into your cookbook.

Hopping John? That
sounds like a laxative.

Hopping John is
black-eyed peas and rice.

Oh.

Thanks, Mother Jefferson,

but I already have
a recipe for that.

But your recipe couldn't
be as good as mine.

My recipe rhymes.

Listen.

"Take the peas
and take the rice,

"boil them once but never twice,

"add some salt, the lid goes on,

and in a while
there's Hopping John!"

Now, is your recipe
better than that?

No, it sure isn't.

See? It's exactly the same.

The same?

Where did you get
that recipe, Mama?

I made it up.

Now, listen to this
one for oxtail soup.

"Wash the oxtail
'fore you put it in,

"because you don't know
where that oxtail's been!

"Douse the fat
and... "Add the meat.

BOTH: Oxtail soup
sure do taste sweet!"

You mean you
made that one up too?

What are you doing,
Mama? Stealing from Louise?

George, Louise
is the last person

I'd steal a recipe from.

Then how come you got it
if you didn't get it from her?

I got them from a book.

A book? What book?

This book.

Missus Kirby's Kitchen:
Favorite n*gro recipes.

Where did that come from, Mama?

I bought it before
I got married.

Uh-oh.

What is it, Tom?

These recipes, Louise.

They're exactly
the same as yours,

quaint sayings and all.

I don't understand.

I hate to say this, Louise,

but it looks like
your grandmother

was a plagiarist.

I thought your relatives
were Methodist.

Pop, it looks like Mom's
grandma didn't create the recipes.

She just copied
them out of this book.

Oh, well, then in that
case, I'm sorry, Louise,

but we can't do your cookbook.

This is copyrighted material.

I wonder why my
grandmother did that.

Mom, she was probably too
poor to buy a book of her own.

Well, I'm sorry, Louise,
but these things happen.

And about that $500 check,
I'll explain it to my boss,

and I think I know
what he's going to say.

Oh, thanks, Tom,

but I'm afraid we
tore up the check.

Good, because that's
what he's going to say.

I'm afraid I've wasted
a lot of your time, Tom.

No. It wasn't all wasted.

I discovered one dish I know
I'm going to stay away from.

Possum stew?

No. Oxtail soup.

Well, George,

it looks like Louise Mills'
writing career is over.

Don't worry about it, Weezy.

Being famous
ain't all that cool.

Look, Lionel,

what's the name of
that famous black writer?

James Baldwin?

Yeah! Look, I
wouldn't trade you in

for James Baldwin for anything.

Oh, George...

Diana Ross, maybe,
but not James Baldwin.

George, were you really

going to let me
write that cookbook?

Sure, Weezy. Now that I
know how important it is to you.

As a matter of fact,

since you got
the typewriter out,

I think it's time you
started your next book.

My next book?

Yeah! The George
Jefferson Story.

That's a great idea!

And when they
make it into a movie,

maybe they can
get Harry Belafonte

to play you.

Nah, that wouldn't work.

Why not?

He ain't tall enough.

Isn't this nice, George?

Peaceful, no fighting?

Yeah, you're right, Weezy.

From now on,
whatever you want to do

is all right with
me, within reason.

Oh, thank you, George.

Let's invite the Willises back

for dinner tomorrow night too.

I said within reason.

See, you're
starting a fight again.

You're right. Okay,
whatever you want to do,

you just tell me,
and I'll listen.

You will?

Of course I will. What
do you think I am?

Hard to get along with?
A stubborn jackass?

Pigheaded? Back up.

I think you just passed it.

ANNOUNCER: The
Jeffersons was recorded on tape

in front of a studio audience.