All language subtitles for The Goldbergs s07e09 The Beverly Goldberg Cookbook.eng

ADULT ADAM: Back in the '80s,
America got in shape,

and that meant getting fit
and eating right.

So every chef started
becoming health-conscious,

except Chef Beverly
Goldberg.

For my growing schmoopaloo,
my famous lasagna burger bomb.

Wow! I can't believe
no one's ever thought

to use lasagna
as a bun before.

She was always inventing
new caloric cuisine.

For Pops,
my triple-meat ziti surprise.

And the surprise is,

the lamb really brings out
the beef and chicken.

But that was nothing compared
to what she made my dad.

And for my handsome
man of the house,

salad made just the way
you like it...

A deli tray of cold cuts
and cheeses, zero veggies,

served in a bowl
of buttermilk ranch.

You see?
Salads don't have to be boring.

That is, by definition,
not a salad. Words have meaning!

Yeah, my mom's cookbook
chronicled some of

the least-healthy recipes
known to man.

Strangely,
no publishers wanted it.

These rejection letters
are so hurtful and specific.

"A dietary Vietnam"?
"Pure poison"?

"A culinary kick
to the crotch!"

On the bright side,
getting mail is fun.

And these are from the crappy,
independent publishers

that make nonsense
like textbooks

and Bibles
for children.

ADULT ADAM: Still, all those
"no"s didn't diminish her love of cooking.

Or our love of eating.

And save room for dessert,
'cause Mama made her signature

upside-down chocolate
peanut butter cheesecake.

There's no top
or bottom to it,

so I'm just going
right for the middle.

You know,
Dave Kim's family

all go for a walk
after dinner.

If you can walk afterwards,
you're doing it wrong.

(TELEPHONE RINGS)

Talk fast,

I got a flip-flopped cake
coming my way.

Cookbook publisher?

We don't need any books!
We're a TV household!

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

Hi.
It's Beverly Goldberg.

Harrison Whitby
of Whitby and Sons Publishing.

No relation.

I'm calling about
your cookbook.

Everybody shut up
right now.

But nobody's
saying anything.

I will drown you
in that damn cake

if you don't shut
your dumb, fat mouth!

(CALMLY)
How can I help you, Mr. Whitby?

I think I can help you.

You see, every cookbook
that comes across my desk

is low-fat this,
no-sugar that.

But yours...

Yours is
not concerned with health in any way.

Well, that's because
I disregard

the most basic
dietary guidelines.

And that's exactly why
I want to publish it.

(HUSHED) Holy (BLEEP),
Holy (BLEEP), Holy (BLEEP).

(CALMLY)
That's nice news.

I just need
a little rewrite.

You want me to add
more lard, butter, and salt to the recipes?

Uh, it'll kill people,
but I'll do it.

No. I just need the stories
behind the recipes.

Tell me where
they came from. Make it personal.

Oh, I can do that.

People are always telling me,

"I know way
too much about you!"

Beautiful.
No rush.

Just get it to me
in 48 hours.

Bevy, who was that?

Destiny.

How the hell did she
get this number?

They're gonna publish
my cookbook!

Oh, how about that?

Anything is possible!

I deserve everything
that's coming to me.

You really do, Bevy.

I'll make sure to save a spot
on my bookshelf.

Ooh, that's a good idea.
I need to make some room, too.

I'm an author!

* I'm twisted up inside

* But nonetheless,
I feel the need to say

* I don't know the future

* But the past keeps getting
clearer every day *

ADULT ADAM:
It was December 4th, 1980-something.

Barry and Erica
were college roommates,

and it was amazing...

How little they got along.

You are an idiot!
And I'm talking medically.

How dare you?
I'm pre-med.

I'd be the first to know
if I was an idiot.

Then where are
the car keys?

'Cause they're supposed to be
on that hook right there.

Oh, you mean my
back-scratchin' hook?

Works better when the keys
don't rip up my shoulder meat.

(SIGHS)

There you go.

You did it, Hooky.
You did it.

ADULT ADAM: Yep,
they'd lived together their whole lives,

but sharing a dorm room
was a whole different story.

Did you eat my ramen?

Yeah. I didn't want to
walk to the caf,

so I snagged one of your
hot and spicy beefs.

But that's my feast
from the East!

And you should probably
know that I also

drained your last
Mountain Dew.

My morning Dew?

That's how I rev up
for the day!

Do you have any respect
for society's norms?

Somehow they'd
managed to keep it civil the whole semester...

Until one fateful night.

Oh, my God,
Big Tasty!

You're destroying
the world record in 110-meter hurdles!

He's the Carl Lewis
of pressing red and blue buttons

with his feet!
It's happening!

Big Tasty's gonna
finally take the gol... No!

Oopsy, was this thing
connected to that?

My bad. Get out.

Yeah, okay.
Sorry.

Whoa! JTP, you do not
have to listen to her.

Actually, Tasty,
we do.

It's the law of
older siblings...

They get the final say
on everything.

That's not a law.

I would know.

Could've been the son
of a lawyer. It is.

Thanks to my older bro,
I'm always the one who dealt it,

regardless of
who smelt it.

And my older sister
decided to take my room.

So now
I sleep on the couch.

Why not take
her old room?

And have her
take it back?

(CHUCKLING) No. I'm not
jumping on that carousel.

My sister gets priority on all
my mom's love and affection.

No one cares about
your tragic home life, Matt Bradley.

I want to run
on a plastic mat!

Well, we all
have stories.

I'll get the door
for you.

JTP, I demand you stay.

Sorry, Tasty.
Big sis rules.

Behind this smile
is pain.

Don't worry, Bar.
I'm staying.

A man of courage.

Oh, you misread that.
I-I'm not here for you.

I-I get to stay because
it's Erica's will.

This is not fair!

We're both freshmen!

We're technically
equals!

He does have a point,
angelface.

Whoa, whoa, whose side
are you on, Schwartz?

Sorry, Big Tasty.
Erica's threatening tone was new information.

Geoffrey "Mad Man" Schwartz,

how many times have
I saved your life?

None?

I would've if you weren't
so boring and risk-averse.

I'm not comfortable being
in the middle of this.

You will be in
the middle of this. It's decided.

As a neutral third party,
you will establish

a system of rules to stop
our petty squabbling.

That sounds like
a nightmare!

I'm good with it.
But just remember who hugs and kisses you.

Oh, well, there's plenty
of that to go around.

Come on!

Get in there.
Come in.

Doing all the work.
Come on. My guy.

ADULT ADAM: As Geoff
was caught in the middle of Barry and Erica,

my mom was at the end
of her big rewrite.

Schmoo, feast your
delicious boy eyes

on 400 pages
of scrumptious family history.

Wow, this has...

So many words.

Most not about food.

And who is that
sturdy fella?

That's your
great-aunt Esther.

Why two eye patches?

This is a funny story.

Uh, she was dragged
by a horse through the town.

That is funny.

(LAUGHING) Until the reins
finally got stuck

in a tree branch,
and the horse fell on top of her.

(CHUCKLES)

So, of course,
they shot it.

And why would you put that
in a book about food?

Because the next day,
she made a delicious horse stew.

I changed it to lamb because
some people can be stuffy.

And she must've had to make
a lot since she had 14 kids.

No, no. As I indicated here
next to the ingredients,

uh, only six
of them lived.

(EXHALES SHARPLY)

Disease, war,
winter, famine.

Seven of them were just
stomped to death.

And you put that right here
in a book about food.

So, you clearly know
what you're doing.

Would you mind
reading the whole thing,

and telling me what you think
before I send it in?

I think I get it.

A horse drags a lady,

pancake dippers,
a cousin gets stomped.

You got yourself
a winner, lady.

This is the only publisher
who's shown any interest,

and if he doesn't like it,
I don't know what I'll do.

I guess I could...

Thank you.

ADULT ADAM:
While I was dragged like Aunt Esther

into reading
my mom's cookbook,

Geoff was pulled
between Barry and Erica.

Okay, so you're both
holding the binders

that I stayed up
all night creating

with the guidelines
in order to keep this room safe and fun.

These are so stupid.
And I want the blue one.

You'll find it
details solutions to all of your living issues.

Oh, so many words
and tabs!

Just tell your
loudmouth girlfriend to stop being so bossy.

I will punch your head
while you sleep.

Joke's on you.
My skull is crazy-jacked.

Guys, no punching...
Asleep or otherwise.

In here, you'll find
clear instructions on how to share everything.

Like the mini-fridge.
No way.

I promised
my perishables a safe haven.

You put your sheets
in there.

You know I run hot!

It's the dead of winter,
barfbag!

You should really get
your circulation checked.

Already did.

It's a trouble area,
like you.

Enough.
Consult your binders. I'm not your referee.

Wait, that's it.

You're our referee...
Our Geoff-er-ee.

It works 'cause it's your name
and also your new job.

I'm not staying here full-time
to mediate every fight,

conflict,
or disagreement.

It would work better than
these crappy binders.

Yeah.
Swing and a miss, hon.

You didn't even
open them.

We've moved on from
your embarrassing binders.

You should, too.
You know us.

We can't be trusted
to follow the rules.

And every moment
is touch-and-go with me.

And I'm no day
at the beach, either.

I-I know I don't have
a lot going on...

Like nothing.
I'm secretly worried.

Then it's settled.

Geoffrey will be the arbiter
of everything that happens within these seven walls.

Seven?
And it starts now!

Excuse me while I clip
my angry, jagged toenails on Erica's bed.

Geoff-er-ee?

Bar, maybe that's
a bathroom task?

Hmm.
That's an interesting fix.

Thanks, Geoff-er-ee.

Wow. You are really making up
for that binder fiasco.

ADULT ADAM: As Geoff
was playing referee,

I was looking for
some coaching

on how to deal with
my mom's cookbook.

Dude, your mom's book
is a horror show!

I know, Dave Kim.

So much tragedy has
befallen your people.

I can't un-read
these things, man! I'm different now.

I know, Dave Kim.

How are you gonna tell her
she can't submit this?

I don't know, Dave Kim!

I just need to find some way
to break it to her

so she doesn't hate me
when I destroy her dream!

ADULT ADAM: Yep,
I had no idea what I'd tell my mom,

until I saw Doc Katman give
a master class in bad news.

Johnny, I just want
to say Rush rules, and so do you.

True, and true.

You're a good dude, dude.

So are you, Johnny.

But that said,
you haven't turned in

one assignment
all semester, so...

You're going to
flunk again.

Oh, no!
The wind's out of my sails!

Luckily, you're a badass,
so you can take it.

Whoa.
You just devastated me with your words,

but I feel great
about it!

Thanks,
Doc Whoever-You-Are!

Hmm.
Doc, I don't get it.

You gave Johnny Atkins
life-destroying news,

and he thanked you
for it. How?

It's all about
the compliment sandwich.

Compliment sandwich?

You simply wedge
your criticism, AKA the meat,

in between
two compliments, AKA the bread.

ADULT ADAM: Yes!
That was the answer!

Now, I just had to make my
mom a compliment sandwich.

There he is!
Gah!

Were you just
waiting for me at the door?

Well, yes,
but only for hours.

Now, tell me, tell me, tell me
how much you loved it.

I'll start you off.

"It was perfect."

I-I hear people saying that...
Like you, right now.

(CHUCKLES)

And I also want to add...
You did it, girl.

(CHUCKLES) Yeah, well, what
about my writing, my stories?

Were they everything
you thought, and more?

Oh, so much more.

You did it, girl!
You said that already. Get to it.

ADULT ADAM:
Well, I had given her the top slice of bread.

I guess it was time
for the meat.

I hated it hard.

Change every word.

Excuse me?

But wait,
before you get upset...

(STAMMERS)

You did it, girl.

What are you saying
to me?

Oh, balls!
My sandwich sucked!

I cooked you
in my lady kitchen.

You were my greatest dish,
and this is how you treat me?

I wasn't really thinking
about your lady kitchen

when I was reading
your lousy book.

(GASPS)
Gasp of gasps!

I have clearly failed
as a mother!

And as a cookbook author.

I just want you to know
that what you have done to me is worse than any horse stomp.

Because I still
have eyes to see

how my beautiful boy
betrayed me.

ADULT ADAM: She hated
the sandwich,

so I tried one more
slice of bread.

But...you did it, girl?

ADULT ADAM: Barry and Erica
had a new tool to help them coexist.

Moron, where are
the car keys?

And that tool
was Geoff.

They're right here.
Erica, I made you your own set.

And, Barry, I attached
your keys to this cumbersome hunk of wood

that I painted
in Flyers colors.

Sick!

It's like an orange nunchuck
that starts my car.

Whoa. You're killing it,
Geoff-er-ee.

ADULT ADAM: Yep,
having a Geoff-er-ee fixed everything...

Until three hours later.

Ooh!
Oh!

What the hell?
Yeah.

Why are they here?

'Cause our Geoff-er-ee ruled
that it was my JTP night.

But why did he allow you
to throw deadly lawn darts in the wall?

The lawn darts
were actually a compromise.

We started with
a fireman's axe.

There's one
on every floor.

Whatever. Everyone leave.
It's after midnight.

Nuh-uh!
Night only starts when I sleep.

Geoff-er-ee,
you're supposed to be preventing

this kind of stupidity.

Sure, it's my fault
for not clearly defining day and night.

Actually, I need to be
at the Gap early anyway

to add a new level
to the jean wall.

And if I don't get
12 to 14 hours of shut-eye, I am a wreck.

I think you're struggling
with seasonal depression, bro.

For sure.
Now everyone shut up.

You're not going anywhere
till you see Mr. Sun.

Fine. You want the room?
Then I get the car tomorrow.

What?
It's my car day!

I was gonna do fishtails
in the ShopRite parking lot!

Geoff-er-ee,
throw a flag.

Again, my fault for assuming
you two would demonstrate

the most basic courtesy
to each other.

Fine! Take the car.

I'm taking the computer.

Uh-uh!
I have a paper due tomorrow!

That you're gonna
have to write by hand.

No! Geoff, do something.

Bar, the computer's
supposed to be for doing actual work,

not to hug vindictively

so as to prevent
someone else from using it.

Well, you never
specified that.

He got me. I never
explicitly said "no computer cuddling."

Gah! I'll be at
the stupid library!

(SHOUTS)

(LAUGHS)

She walked out,
and you almost died.

It's probably good
we didn't use the axe.

ADULT ADAM:
While Barry and Erica were pushing Geoff to his limits,

there was no limit to how
pushy my mom could be about her book.

Hey! We're watching
The Equalizer.

Now we'll never know
if things were equalized!

After receiving mixed reviews
on my masterwork,

which I took graciously,
I am now seeking feedback

that's not the demented
ramblings of a jealous teenager.

Yeah, good stuff.

If you could just shimmy
to the left a little,

then the remote can
do what it does.

I need you to read it
and tell me what you think.

Why us?

Well, you're my father,
and you'd never lie to me.

And Murray will give me
an honest opinion

'cause he lacks the filter
necessary for polite society.

You make a fair point.

We'll read your
overwhelming book.

ADULT ADAM:
And read they did...

Page after page
of dour tales

and unappetizing
family history.

My mom couldn't wait to hear
what they had to say.

Stunned silence
is always a good sign.

But I need to hear
how much you liked it.

I liked the part
where it ended.

Oh, poo, you're just
being an old grump. Dad?

There's no place
for an amputation story

in a chicken piccata recipe.

Oh, no.
Was Adam right?

Maybe he's not
a teenage butt stain.

That sounds right.

Now, if you just scooch
to your left

and then crouch down really
tiny, we're back in business.

ADULT ADAM: My mom
finally got that her cookbook wasn't great,

so she brought me
an apology that was.

Schmoopy,
I made your favorite...

Ooey-gooey
marshmallow cookie bars.

Wait, you made me
cookie bars after I told you

your life's work
was a smelly garbage fire?

You never said
those words.

Out loud.

(SIGHS) Well, it has
come to my attention that you may be right.

My cookbook might be
a tad heavy on death,

despair,
and religious persecution.

And there was more animal
violence than I expected.

It's just my publisher
really wanted me

to lean into
the history of my food,

but that history
is pretty damn dark.

But this cookie doesn't have
a dark history to me.

Every time I felt down,

you'd make me a pan of these,
and I always felt better.

You did?

And I think that's what
your publisher wants...

Stories about this family.

And no matter what our day
is like, when you cook,

we always find happiness on
our plates and in our hearts.

(GROANS) Write that!

Write that.
Write that.

Aah, write it!

No way! I wouldn't know
the first thing about writing a cookbook.

You're so good
at putting emotion

into your movies.
Just do that.

I suppose I do know
how to tug at the heartstrings in many mediums.

Do your thing.
Tug away.

And it has to be done
by tomorrow at 8:00.

ADULT ADAM:
While I got roped into being my mom's ghost writer,

Barry and Erica had written
some new rules of their own.

Whoa!

Behold, Geoffrey,
our elegant tape solution.

We had to take matters
into our own hands

because you failed miserably
as a Geoff-er-ee.

So, you split the room
with masking tape, like on I Love Lucy.

And super smart shows
like Brady Bunch and The Munsters.

One teeny problem...
The door's on Erica's side.

By choice, bro!

I'll use my ninja skills
to scale the building

and enter
through a window.

And after he falls
and dislocates his head, the room will be mine.

See, Geoffrey, we didn't need
you or your pathetic binders.

We just needed
a roll of this.

Check it.
I'm Erica.

I will put that over your
mouth while you sleep.

Then my ghost
will haunt you

by farting directly
into your pillow,

much like I do in
the realm of the living.

What?
I hate you!

She's hitting me,
Geoff!

Stay over there!
Do something!

This is all your
fault, Geoff! Enough!

What is wrong with you?
BOTH: Me?

I get it.
You're siblings.

You're not meant to be
college roommates.

But what's worse than
the way you treat each other is how you treat me.

Let that stupid tape
solve all your problems from now on.

I'm done.

ADULT ADAM: As Geoff
laid down the law,

the verdict was in
on my draft of my mom's cookbook.

I love it.
Oh, I knew it!

Beverly Goldberg
is gonna be a household name.

Beverly Goldberg?

Oh, no, I'm reading
the wrong book.

Oh, your book.
Your book is crap.

What?
But I took out all the blood and historical tragedy!

I don't know
what that means.

But this right here
feels like it was written

by a sappy,
sheltered simpleton.

Ouch. Kind of harsh.

Okay, who are you?

Her hyper-sensitive son
who takes her setbacks personally.

What was wrong
with it?

It's a schmaltz fest!

Every word is
sappy and cloying.

And why do all the recipes
end with a hug?

'Cause it's the obvious
emotional resolution the audience is craving.

Damn it, why didn't I stay
with the ethnic-cleansing, horse-stompings version?

Because that sounds
God-awful, too?

Well, what am I
supposed to do?

Do better!
You've got 48 hours.

You want me to rewrite
that whole thing?

And why 48 hours?

To whip you
into a frenzy.

All the best work
comes from terror.

Have fun, now.

Mama, I'm so sorry.

I guess I went
a little heavy on the hugs.

You were just
trying to help.

I know 48 hours
isn't long,

but Eddie Murphy
and Nick Nolte

did a ton of damage in
that time, and so will we.

Adam, it's over.

Why?

I always say
"I could have been a lawyer.

"I could have been
an author."

But now,
I know for sure...

I'm nothing.

ADULT ADAM: After
Barry and Erica let their rivalry go too far,

they set aside
their differences

to put a very important
relationship back together.

If you're here to have me
settle another argument, it's not happening.

We're not.
We came here to say we're sorry.

You were right.

We spent
the last 18 years living together,

and clearly
that wasn't meant to extend to college.

You were also right about
the way we treated you.

It wasn't great.

The only thing
we can agree on is that you're the best.

I appreciate that,
but you guys got to figure this out.

Oh, don't worry.
I think we did.

(EXHALES DEEPLY)
I'm moving out of the dorm,

and into the
Jenkintown Posse's Jenkintown Pad.

JTP's JTP!

None of us were loving
our living situations.

And we hang out
so much together anyway.

Now, we don't have
that painful goodbye at the end of each hang.

And this way,
we don't have a screechy lady

yelling at us
to keep it down.

You get it.

Sort of.

And check out
this sick hole.

You can see the wiring
and the pipes.

And there's bars
on the window

because these party animals
have to be caged.

(LAUGHS)

But seriously, no one should
come and go after dark.

The floor's not level,
either.

Look how this bullet
we found rolls.

(LAUGHTER)

I think it's
gonna be great.

For all of us.

You know,
when you're not my roommate,

you're a pretty
good brother.

Not too bad, yourself.

I'm not sure
this is the safest...

Shh!
Look how happy they are.

ADULT ADAM:
While Barry and Erica had closed the book

on living together,
I was encouraging my mom

to keep writing her story
as a cookbook author.

Adam, I said I was done.

You can't be!

You've always told me
my dreams are possible,

so I'm here to tell you
the same thing.

I know.
But we tried it my way,

and we tried it your way,
and neither was good.

But there's another way.
We do it together.

You pull back
on the horror stories,

and I pull back
on the schmaltz,

and then, we meet
somewhere in the middle.

You think that would work?

I know it will.

* It's such a pity to say
goodbye to you

* Goodbye to you

I'll get the typewriter.

ADULT ADAM: Sometimes,
preserving a relationship just means

adjusting the ingredients.

Well, looks like you got this
place all to yourself now.

Yeah, I'm thinking about
getting a new roommate.

I have someone in mind,
but I treated him really crappy.

What are you saying?

I'm saying that,

if you can forgive me
for being such a jerk,

I would love if you
would move in with me.

Is this really happening?

If you say "yes."

* It's such a pity to say
goodbye to you

ADULT ADAM: Sometimes,
the answers to all our problems

are right in front of us
the whole time.

This is amazing, Mom.

And who knows?

They may even be just
a phone call away.

(TELEPHONE RINGS)

Hello.

Oh. Hi, Mr. Whitby.

You read the rewrite?

Oh.

Uh-huh. Okay. Okay.

Well?
Tell us.

I'm a (BLEEP)
cookbook author!

(SCREAMS)

ADULT ADAM: In the end,
you never know what life's gonna cook up for you.

One thing's for sure...
The sweetest moments

are even better
when the people around you

are there to
serve up a hug,

even if it is the obvious
emotional resolution.

* Goodbye to you *

**

ADAM: Wow.
A lot of food to eat.

Cheggit. My mom
sent me one of her famous honey salt pies.

Ooh, smells delish.

Let me rip
into a slice.

It's funny that you say "rip,"
because this recipe

actually comes from
my great-great-uncle Harold.

Every limb of his body
was ripped off

by an amateur circus bear.

Oh, my God, what?

Yeah, but don't worry.
The bear didn't kill him.

He just left him
as a stump and a head.

And that's good?

Well, not for
what comes next.

He was on top of a hill,
and lost control of

his crude homemade body wagon,
and he was thrown 100 feet

into a nearby river,
and bobbed for six miles.

Luckily, another bear came
and finished him off.

Two bears? That's
the most horrible thing I've ever heard!

Yeah, it's not great.

But bears like honey,
so grab yourself a fork.

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