ADULT SHELDON: The average American consumes
55 pounds of beef per year.
And then there's Texas,
where we can knock that off in a couple of months.
Maybe faster, if we're talking about smoked brisket...
♪ ♪
...curiously, the one cut of beef
that Texans and Jews agree upon.
(mouth full): This is really good, Meemaw.
Really good?
You're spitting the best brisket in Texas
all over the damn table.
Close your mouth when you eat.
Or aim your face the other way.
Connie, one of these days, you got to give me the recipe.
You bet. For sure.
One of these days. Oh, come on.
You can't hold on to it forever.
Mean that much to you?
Mary and I were dating about a month
when she brought me home for dinner.
I took one bite of this brisket,
and I knew I loved your daughter.
Gee, thanks.
Kind of like Sleeping Beauty,
except Dad kissed meat.
(chuckles)
I tell you what.
You go get a...
piece of paper and a pencil,
I'll write it down for you.
Okay. It's happening...
That's the fastest I've seen him run.
It's the only time I've seen him run.
There you go.
Okay.
I might make it this weekend.
Or you could try a vegetable.
Vegetable? That's funny.
Okay.
Now, this is for your eyes only.
You're not to share it with anybody.
I never-- I would never.
You're a horrible person.
(chuckles) What'd it say?
I want to know what it said.
Me, too. Just eat.
Can I read it?
You are a horrible person.
Ain't I? (laughs)
All right, that's enough
about the brisket.
You kids excited for the church picnic tomorrow?
Not really. I don't know.
Oh, come on.
You all saw the flier. The three "F"s:
food, fun and fellowship.
MEEMAW: And I'm bringing
a big slab of my brisket.
That's it.
15 years in this family, and all the time I've been nothing
but a good, supportive son-in-law.
I always treated your daughter right,
I gave you three beautiful grandchildren.
Only thing I ever asked in return was that damn recipe.
You're right.
Get another piece of paper. I'll write it down.
Don't mess with me, Connie.
Get the paper before I change my mind.
You're gonna do it to him again, aren't you?
I kind of have to.
♪ Nobody else is stronger than I am ♪
♪ Yesterday I moved a mountain ♪
♪ I bet I could be your hero ♪
♪ I am a mighty little man ♪
♪ I am a mighty little man. ♪
(cow mooing)
(toilet flushes) MARY: George, she was just fooling with you.
GEORGE: No, no, she's mean.
She got a black heart.
MARY: She does not.
GEORGE: Why do you always side with her?
MARY: Well, she is my mother.
GEORGE: And there it is.
There's the problem.
You should be siding with me.
MARY: Over brisket? GEORGE: It's not just brisket.
It's the way she's been treating me since day one.
Like I'm some kind of loser, a booby prize.
"Booby prize." MARY: What was that?
Georgie, you mind your own business.
What did I do?
What's going on?
Mom and Dad are fighting.
What about?
Brisket.
If they get a divorce, who do you think
you'll pick to live with?
Well, Mom, of course.
I want Mom. Pick again.
(sighs)
♪ ♪
I thought Dad was coming.
No, he had work to do.
What kind of work? I don't know. Coaching stuff.
Can't he do it after the picnic?
No, Missy, he cannot. Why not?
Enough.
How come Georgie's not going?
He's grounded for eavesdropping on me and your father.
Well, I hope he learned his lesson.
Is this about the recipe?
I bet he's mad 'cause you always side with Meemaw.
And how would you know that?
Georgie told me.
Are you and Dad getting a divorce?
'Course not.
Well, if you do, I want to live with you.
Sheldon, no one's getting a divorce.
But thank you, honey.
You know this all goes away
if you just give him your recipe for the brisket.
I know.
And?
I guess it's not going away.
(football announcer speaking over TV)
And I wasn't eavesdropping.
Don't worry about it.
I just don't see why I got grounded.
What are you complaining about?
You didn't want to go to church picnic anyway.
I like complaining. I'm good at it.
I'll be right back.
Mind if I have a sip of your beer?
You mind if I dip your head in the compost heap?
You could have just said no.
♪ ♪
What are you doing? (gasps)
Nothing! Get out of here.
You're looking for her brisket recipe.
All of a sudden you got smart?
I said get out of here.
I won't tell, I swear.
All right, help me look.
Ooh. Found it?
No, this is her French toast.
You're not looking for French toast.
She does make it good, though.
Did you know she puts vanilla extract
in her whipped cream?
I did not.
Quarter teaspoon.
Georgie? Yeah?
We're looking for brisket!
Cranky.
(door opens) MARY: We're home.
Be cool.
I'm cool. You be cool.
(leather squeaking)
(chair clatters)
Real cool.
He thought I wrote it down.
What a dope.
MAN: Seltzer... (continues speaking over TV)
...hair tonic. Hair tonic.
(man continues speaking over TV)
Need help putting the kids down?
No, thank you, I've been taking care of them all day.
I think I can finish the job.
Oh, come on, don't do that.
Don't do what?
Never mind.
Just so you know, Sheldon and Missy won
the three-legged race because she told him
a bee was chasing them, and you missed it.
I'm sorry, I-I just needed a break from your mother.
Yeah, well, you took a break from your family.
How long is this feud between you two gonna go on?
That's up to her.
You are both such...
stubborn... donkey butts!
(Missy laughing) Missy!
Go to bed.
MISSY: You don't know it's me.
(running footsteps, door closes)
(crickets chirping)
Hey.
What do you want?
Don't be that way.
I brought you a cold one.
Thanks.
I still don't like you.
(chuckling)
Would this change your feelings?
Is that it?
The Holy Grail.
What changed your mind?
You not going to the picnic today,
that hurt Mary and the twins.
I cannot have that on my heart.
Is that so? Absolutely.
Look me in the eye and tell me
this is the actual recipe.
George, what you have in your hand
is the exact step-by-step instructions
on how to make my brisket.
I have never written it down until tonight because...
I was afraid someone might steal it.
But I'm entrusting this to you,
and I hope that someday, when the time is right,
you will see fit to share it with one of your children.
Connie, I don't know what to say.
Don't call me Connie.
Call me Mom. (chuckles)
Thanks, Mom.
You're welcome, son.
Mmm.
♪ ♪
(quietly): What a dope.
♪ What I want, you've got ♪
♪ And it might be hard to handle ♪
♪ But like the flame that burns the candle... ♪
ADULT SHELDON: The next morning, my dad embarked
on a doomed quest to make the perfect brisket.
Can I help you?
Matter of fact, you can.
♪ You pull them all together... ♪
I need 12 pounds of prime Angus with a medium deckle,
ideally slaughtered in the spring, no later than mid-June.
♪ You make my dreams come true... ♪
ADULT SHELDON: For the spice rub,
Meemaw had him drive to New Orleans
to buy ground coffee from Café Du Monde,
and seven ounces of something called "holy ghost root"
from a voodoo woman named Madam Laveau.
♪ Yeah... ♪
Could you grind my root for me?
I-I'm-a... I'm-a rub it on brisket.
ADULT SHELDON: Then back home, he applied the spice rub
with such erotic tenderness,
it made my mother a little jealous.
♪ Well, you... ♪
Finally, the cooking began.
♪ You make my dreams come true... ♪
♪ Oh, yeah, I've been waiting for... ♪
14 hours of cooking.
And basting.
♪ You make my dreams come true... ♪
And spritzing.
♪ Me, you, me, you, me... ♪
And tending to the fire.
♪ Oh, my, you make my dreams come true... ♪
Until it was finally time to let the meat rest.
♪ Waiting for, waiting for, waiting for ♪
♪ You make my dreams... ♪ Oh...
Rest, my darling.
Rest.
Mmm. This Café Du Monde coffee is very good.
They make it with chicory.
And what does it do to the brisket?
Oh, I have no idea.
Then...
why did you send George all the way to New Orleans?
Well, they don't sell this around here.
Mmm.
Here we go.
15 years and 14 hours later.
Best brisket in Texas.
GEORGE SR.: Connie, you evil bitch!
It's smoother than regular coffee.
That wasn't the recipe.
You looked me in the eye, and you lied to me.
Oh, Mom.
You broke into my home and tried to steal it.
Oh, George.
You told her we went over there?
(gasps) Oh, George Jr.
I didn't say nothing. I was cool.
I am loving this.
I don't want this woman in my house anymore.
She is my mother. She is the devil.
And what if the kids want to see her?
Fine.
Schedule it for when I'm not here.
Or when I'm dead.
And quit drinking my coffee.
Turn off your train, we've got to talk.
(train stops) About what?
Mom is so upset about Dad and Meemaw,
she might want a divorce.
No one's getting divorced.
How do you know?
(whistles)
Great, now I have to throw that out.
Mother-in-laws are always held in low regard by the father.
It rarely leads to a breakup of the family.
MISSY: He's right.
Fred and Wilma are still happily married.
I think if we can figure out
a way for Dad to get Meemaw's brisket recipe,
this all goes away.
I don't see how we can accomplish that.
(train clatters)
Put that down.
That's not a toy.
Sure it is.
Choo choo.
MEEMAW: Choo choo...
Choo choo.
Open wide, Moonpie.
Here comes the choo choo train.
Choo choo.
Mmm. Isn't that good?
(chuckles)
That's Meemaw's famous brisket.
Would you like the secret recipe?
(gasps)
You promise not to tell anybody?
Of course you're not gonna tell anybody.
I start with a tablespoon of cumin,
and then a cup of brown sugar, and...
I know the recipe.
What?
She told it to me.
When?
February 14, 1982.
I was 23 months old, it was Valentine's Day,
and Mom and Dad went out for dinner.
You were there. Don't you remember?
(sighs)
(wind whistling softly)
I got nothing.
You can really remember when you were that little?
Uh-huh. You were there, too.
You were still struggling with potty training.
(chuckling): I don't think so.
Oh, yes. Meemaw used to call you Mr. Soggy Pants.
Nuh-uh.
(laughs): Mr. Soggy Pants.
Quit it. This is serious.
Sheldon, you've got to tell Dad that recipe.
But Meemaw told me it was a secret.
If you don't, and Mom and Dad get a divorce, it's your fault.
All right.
Fine.
Good job, Soggy Pants.
(referee whistle blowing over TV)
Dad, could you please come into the living room?
What for?
My brain did something impressive
and I'd like to share it with you.
Hmm.
(George Sr. grunts)
What are you doing here?
Same as you.
I want to see what his brain did.
Please have a seat.
All right.
(grunts)
GEORGE SR.: Well?
I know Meemaw's brisket recipe.
What?
No, you don't.
Yes, I do.
And in order to bring peace to this family,
I'm prepared to make it public.
You're bluffing.
One tablespoon of cumin,
one cup of brown sugar,
two tablespoons of smoked paprika...
Okay, okay, stop.
No, no, no. Keep going.
How do you know the recipe, Shelly?
Meemaw told it to me on Valentine's Day, 1982.
You were out with Dad seeing Cannonball Run
at the dollar theater.
That's impossible, you weren't even two years old.
Three tablespoons of dried mustard,
one cup of Lone Star beer...
Okay.
Go ahead.
Give it to your father.
I can write it down for you.
That's okay, I don't want it.
(quietly): You have got to be kidding me.
Connie, you've had every opportunity
to give me that recipe and you never did,
because you've always treated me like an outsider.
No, she has not.
Oh, of course I have.
See? She admits it.
(sighs) Damn right, I do.
Never thought you were good enough for my daughter.
There you were, riding around on that dumb motorcycle,
knocking her up.
Why don't you kids go in the kitchen
and fix yourselves some ice cream?
I'm not going anywhere.
Hey. I get it.
I have a daughter.
I wouldn't want her bringing home someone like that.
But I've come a hell of a long way since then.
Okay, you're right.
George.
I'm sorry.
That means more to me than any recipe.
Come here.
(Meemaw chuckles)
ADULT SHELDON: Don't let the hug fool you.
The minute she went home, he made me give him the recipe.
Here we go, maiden voyage.
Mmm, mmm.
Hot damn.
GEORGE SR.: Hot damn.
(George Sr. moaning)
Hot damn!
MARY (laughs): George! Language.
Sheldon.
Want some?
Uh, no, thank you. I'm not hungry. e give him the recipe.