"Hey, could you pass the salt?" "What did you say?" "I want to put some salt on this." "In 47 years of marriage you've never salted my lasagna." "Marie, it's bad enough it needs it." "You gotta remind me how long we've been married?" "That doesn't need salt." "What's this about?" "Are you mad at me?" "No, I just want the salt." "Baloney." "It's because I yelled at you last night for blowing your nose into your sock, isn't it?" "No, all I'm saying is this is not doing it for me." "Oh." "Well, then by all means have the salt." " Thank you." " Mm-hmm." ""Pass the salt."" "The list of things I'm allowed to say is getting shorter." " Hi." " Hey." "Mmm-mmm." "What's for brunch?" "I made pasta with pesto sauce, chicken sausages, pork sausages, eggplant curry, Waldorf salad, and mini-quiches with ham for hors d'oeuvres." "What, half day today?" "What's up?" "I made a frittata." "Well, good for you, dear." "Taste this pesto, Raymond." "Mmm." "Oh." "Perfect." "Really?" "You like it?" "Yeah, of course." "I don't know anymore." "Last night your father told me my lasagna needed salt." " What?" "Come on." " I don't believe it." "How dare someone criticize another person's cooking?" "I have to admit, all great artists must face the fact that someday their gifts will fade." "Ma, come on." "Your gifts aren't fading, huh?" "You da man." "You know, your father used to salivate over my meals." "But lately it's like he's just going through the motions." "Ma, Ma, Ma-- you still got it." "You're the Pavarotti of pesto." "That's a sweet boy." "Nothing like his father." "What are you busting Mom's hump about the lasagna for?" "I wish it was just the lasagna." "Have you tried these little quiches she made?" "I've had belly lint with more flavor." "What are you talking about, Dad?" "These are fantastic." "Yeah." "I like Tabasco on mine." "All right." "Try that." "Tasteless." "Well, that Tabasco's got no kick." "This bottle was issued to Dad during the Korean War." "Hold on." "You know, Dad," "I have to say that I am surprised that you cannot appreciate the interplay of these flavors-- the smokiness of the ham delicately contrasting with the sweetness of the egg custard." "Why don't you put on a dress and do a dance?" "Hey, what do you got there?" "I got Marco's hot peppers," "I got hot mustard from Wo Hop's-- everything from Mom's ethnic shelf." "All right, let's start with the horseradish." "Oh oh" "Wasabi." "I got wasabi." "Ah, and how about a little jalapeno?" "Yeah." "Yeah." "That's right." "Right." "Perfect." "Here you go, Dad." "Why don't you try that one?" "Okay, but I'm telling you... they're all the same." "Dad, that had horseradish, wasabi and jalapeno on it." "It did?" "How can you not taste that?" "Oh my God." "Dad-- you've got no taste." "Holy crap." "Aaagghh!" "And this whole time I thought it was your mother." "Aaaah!" "Robbie." "Robert, use a glass." "Oh, Robbie." "Robbie, please." "You'll spoil your appetite." "I don't get it." "How is this happening to me?" "Maybe your sinuses are stuffed up." "You know, 90% of taste is smell." "That would explain why you don't smell... you." "Nah, I can smell me." "I just don't mind me." "Hey, we're trying to figure out what's going on here." "I'll be with you in a minute." "When did you start noticing that Ma's cooking was slipping?" "I don't know." "About two weeks ago." "Have you been doing anything different in the last two weeks?" "I haven't done anything different in the last 50 years." "Uh, well... except" "What?" "I have been taking these pills." "What, for like blood pressure or something?" "Nah, just some herb pills that Stan and Garvin gave me." "Stan and Garvin?" "What for?" "They're for my, uh..." "foot." "Your foot?" "Yeah, you know." "My foot." ""Lancelot"?" ""Possible side effects:" "headaches, stomach cramping"-- oh, God, Dad, look at this:" ""loss of taste."" "Hey, you're kidding me." "Didn't you read the label?" "No." "My eyes are as bad as my foot." "Dad, I mean, you're gonna have to stop taking those." "No way." "These babies work." "Hey, uh, Dad." "Do you really need those?" "Your time will come, wise guy." "I might not get to hit that often, but when you're called to the plate you better bring a bat." "Aaahhh..." "Yeah, okay okay." "Brunch time." " Oh." "All right." " All right." "Hey, listen, you two knuckleheads." "Your mother doesn't know about these pills, so keep your traps shut." "What are you gonna do when she finds out you can't taste?" "She's not gonna find out." "Taste I can fake." "Okay..." "Hey, kids." "Come on and get your food." "Looks marvelous." "Thank you, honey." "Everything looks delicious, Marie." "Thanks, Frank." "Here you go." "Can't wait." "Mmm." "Mmm." "Fantastic, Marie." "Really?" "Oh, I'm so glad." "So can you believe?" "Spring training already." "Yeah, first day tomorrow." "Pitchers and catchers." "Hey, Frank." "Try the frittata." "Bring it on." "Mmm." "Oh." "Wow, that's good." "No, it's not." "That's Debra's." "Whoops." "What's going on?" "First you tell me my lasagna needs salt, and now Debra's frittata is good." ""Oh." "Wowee." "Ooh."" "Is this some kind of a scheme to finally drive me insane?" " No." " Then why are you torturing me?" " I'm not torturing you." " Then what are you doing?" " I can't taste." " What do you mean?" " I've lost my sense of taste." " Are you sick?" " No." " Did you go to a doctor?" "I'm not going to a doctor." "I'm just getting older, okay?" "So you're not gonna try to fix it?" "Leave me alone." "Oh, that's right, "Leave me alone."" "I'll live with it, okay?" "Oh, that's it-- "I'll live with it."" "Ma, now you know that it's not your cooking." "You still got it." "So now you can be happy again." "Happy?" "How could I be happy?" "I'm Rembrandt, and he's blind." "Well, Deb, at least somebody liked your frittata." " Hey." " Hey, guys." "Okay, Ray, Amy and I are going to the mall." "Hey, Ray, you mind if I watch the game over here?" "Ever since Sunday brunch Mom's been all depressed." "She's just sitting in front of the TV eating doughnuts." "What, did Dad just give up the remote?" "Didn't even put up a fight." "Since this whole thing, they haven't been fighting at all." "I miss the yelling." "I miss Ma's cooking." "She hasn't cooked anything in three days." "This is crazy." "Everything's falling apart because of food?" "It's just food." "You can't base a marriage on food." "Well, you and I can't." "I can't believe Marie." "Frank can't help it if his tongue is getting old." "Why can't she be more sensitive?" "I wouldn't be surprised if this whole thing" " was her fault to begin with." " What do you mean?" "I mean, who's to say that after 47 years of Marie's constant criticism and nagging," "Frank just couldn't take it anymore, and his losing his taste is a psychosomatic way of not listening?" "He is tuning her out with his tongue." "Wow." "Yeah." "Yeah." " That makes sense." " Yeah, huh?" "Nobody ever stands up to this woman." "Ray, get over there." "What?" "Go go." "Go tell your mother this is all her fault." "You don't know what you're talking about." "I know you're scared of your mommy." "Yeah, yeah, it's not my mommy, okay?" "Dad lost his taste because of some pills he's taking for his foot." "Ray." "I'm sorry, man." "I hate it when she thinks she knows stuff." "His foot?" "That's right, professor." "So why don't you two just run along to the mall before they're all out of knick-knacks and paddywacks?" "Why didn't he just tell Marie that?" "Because he's very sensitive about his foot." "Oh." "So by foot, you mean-- not his foot." "Go to the mall." "Well, then what are the pills for?" "Oh." "That foot." "You know, this is crazy." "I mean, Marie should know all about this." "Of course." "Somebody should tell her." "No." "No." "It's not gonna be any of us, okay?" "This is between a man and his podiatrist." "But how are Frank and Marie gonna get through this if they don't" "No." "We told Dad we would keep this a secret, and I absolutely forbid you to say any of this to Mom." "Do you got it?" "Boo boo?" "Look, look" "let me just say this:" "when it comes to a man and his wife, a man needs to know that he's a man... whether or not his wife knows he's a man or not." "What else does Dad have?" "Well, I never thought of it like that." "I guess we should stay out of it." "Okay, so we won't say anything to Marie." "Hi, Frank." "Listen, Frank... can we talk?" "So, how are you?" "Yes, how are you?" "Fine." "Isn't this nice?" "How often do we get the chance to talk together, just the three of us?" "That is so true." "You know, Deb," "I think it is so funny how sometimes people can live so close-- and never take the time to just sit down and-- shoot the breeze." "Communication is so important." "Oh, I agree." "What are you two magpies squawking about?" "Look, Frank, about your... problem..." "Yeah?" "Don't worry." "I got no taste, but I still got crunch." "No, we mean the problem with your... foot." "What?" "We want you to know this is nothing to be ashamed of." "Yeah, let me tell you something about Ray." "He might talk a big game, but there's a lot of times when he can't always... put his best foot forward." "And that doesn't change the way I feel about him at all." "Yeah." "We love our fellas no matter what they're able or unable to do." "Frank, listen." "When we heard about your situation, that didn't make us think badly of you." "We still think of you as big, strong, virile Frank." "Frank." "And you know, that is the only way" "Marie could ever see you too." "So you should really go talk to her about this so you can work this out together." "Yeah, if you want to impress Marie, you should talk to her." "Talk." "What's this?" " Oh, hi, Marie." " We were having a chat with Frank." "Yep, just chewing the fat." "And some celery." "Ha ha." "So, Frank, you think the Mets are gonna take it this year?" "I certainly hope they can." "They've been playing their little hearts out." "I'm just gonna get my lunch, then I'll be out of your way." "I think she's ready to hear you." "What do you say, Frank?" "Your husbands are dead men." " What's going on?" " What do you mean?" "At my house" " I want to know why your wives are over there talking to your father." " What?" " What?" "I mean, nobody talks to your father, especially people." "Your wife." "Your wife." "Is everyone turning against me?" "Is that what's going on?" "I don't make lasagna for three days and all of a sudden nobody cares about me." "Everybody is Frank's friend." "No, Ma, that's not it at all." "Well, what else could it be?" "Cooking is all I'm good for, isn't it?" "Oh, yes, I raised two boys with precious little help from your father." "And yes, my charity work has benefited countless people within the community." "But apparently if anybody looks at this face, all they see is a frying pan." "I don't see a frying pan, Ma." "I see a woman who deserves the truth." "Don't be stupid." "Look..." "look, Ma, his loss of taste is because of a side effect that he got because of these pills that he's taking." "What?" "Pills?" "Yeah." "They're supposed to restore his..." " Hair?" " Yes." "No." " His" " Memory?" " Yes." " No." "Look, it's-- it's his... keep guessing." "What?" "His manhood, Ma." "His manhood." "Oh... well, why didn't he tell me?" "Because he didn't want to be ashamed and think that you thought he was less of a man." "He had to choose between his tongue and his manhood." "Oh... poor Frank." "I had no idea." "I'd rather he could taste." "Well, I mean, it's not that simple." "Yes it is." "I have a say in this." "I'll take the taste." "What the hell's wrong with you two?" "Don't blame us, okay?" "Blame them." "You said you were going shopping." "We'll go shopping after this." "I want to see you two traitors outside right now." "It's all right, Frank." "I know." "It's lies." "All lies." "Wait wait." "Wait." "Honey, it breaks my heart that you think that I might not see you as a man." "And you have to know by now that I couldn't possibly think any less of you." "That is so sweet." "And I appreciate how difficult it must have been for you to have to decide between my food and our physical relationship." "Maybe we should go shopping now." "And I want you to know that I'm touched that our years in the boudoir have meant so much to you." "Well, they have." "But if it's all the same to you, I'd rather have the food." "Me too." "Oh, Frank." "Oh, Frank, I was hoping you'd say that." "Oh" "Oh, Frank." "I don't think you need those pills." "No, those are the pills." "Oh." " Here you go, Raymond." " Ma, I don't need these." "No, not for that-- for Debra's cooking."