Frank: I thought you were taking a bath.
Marie: I was. I finished.
Frank: Oh. How was it?
Marie: It was fine, Frank. Thank you for making it for me. You haven't made a bath for me in 35 years.
Frank: Uh, you seemed to need it.

Robert: Actually, not to defend Raymond, that is a guy thing, Debra. I've often found that men use the wife joke to, uh, form bonds and share common experiences. [sits down] Am I sitting in sauce?
Debra: Yes, Robert.
Robert: Good. I was afraid I popped a stitch.

Debra: This is what I don't understand. You're always making fun of my cooking, but I finally make something you like and you're still making jokes about it. Why?
Ray: I'm a complicated person. Oh, come on, it's just that's who I am. I make fun of the wife a little. "Oh, here's Ray. Ray, what did she do to you last night?" And if I say, "She made some braciole and it was quite tasty," wha- who wants to hang out with that guy?
Debra: But don't you think that there's something wrong that the only way you can be popular is at my expense?
Ray: I wish there was another way.
Debra: All right-
Ray: Aw, come on. I'm kidding. Hey look, we know the score here. You got it all over me, right? You're the pretty, smart, together, good one. I'm the one they say, "How did he get her?" So I don't know, maybe in my stupid way, I'm telling them how. You know, "She can't cook. Ha ha." [forced laughter] What? It could be worse. You know Chuck Wilson? You know what he told me? He said his wife is so cold, when he gets into bed with her, he has to shoo away the penguins. Shoo away the penguins. That's cold. Wilson's wife. And yet I don't think any less of her.

Debra: Hey, twins are asleep already? I thought you were gonna read them a story.
Ray: I did, but I put on my boring voice, you know? "And he huffed and puffed and blew the house down."
Debra: Yeah, what a difference.

Ray: Hey!
Debra: Good?
Ray: Yeah! Yeah, good. Even better the second time now that my tongue's not scared. Mmm, man, this is great.
Debra: Yeah, you really like it?
Ray: It's good. I really do. Let me at it.
Debra: Oh, that's I'm so happy! Oh, look, you're sitting down! Ooh! I did it, huh? I really did it!

Debra: Hey, Andy.
Andy: Hey, Deb, is Ray here?
Debra: No, he's not home. No, he's not home yet. Hey, you hungry?
Andy: Oh, sure, I could always go for something.
Debra: I made some braciole. Taste it.
Andy: Oh, you made- Uh... No, no, no, I'm actually- I'm in training. I'm in training for a running thing.
Debra: Come on.
Andy: No, no really. And I've gone kosher. I'm in a Jewish marathon.
Debra: Okay. Try it, okay? One bite, one bite. That's it. One.
Andy: Run away with me.

Andy: It's great! I don't know what Ray's talking about.
Debra: What do you mean, "talking about"?
Andy: Nothing, he was just trying to be funny at work.
Debra: Funny? About this? Was he making fun of my braciole?
Andy: No, he was not.
Debra: Wait, Andy. Andy, he told me he loved my braciole. What did he say to you about it?
Andy: Did I ever show you how I can wiggle my ears? Look at this-
Debra: Andy, Andy. What did he say about the braciole?
Andy: I did not find it funny.
Debra: Andy!
Andy: He said it was Italian for "road kill." Please don't hurt me.
Debra: "Road kill"?
Andy: He was just kidding around like he always does.
Debra: He always does this?
Andy: No, no. Listen, I had some TheraFlu earlier. And then I realized I do not even have the flu, so I'm really flying, whoo-hoo-hoo!

Debra: Here's a little sauce for your road kill.
[Debra pours the sauce in Ray's lap]
Ray: You could have just said, "Please don't sing."

Ray: Food here is good. I might have a comment about the service.
Debra: Is that what you do at work? You make fun of me all day?
Ray: What? No, is that what Andy said? Oh, why the hell would he say that?
Debra: I don't know but he actually loved my braciole.
Ray: I love your braciole! Come on, it's the best thing you ever made!
Debra: Oh, baloney! How come you told everybody it was road kill?
Ray: That's a joke.
Debra: Oh, no, it's not.
Ray: Of course it is! I was just kidding. Come on, you see how much I love it. I could use a towel.

Frank: Listen, Marie, this is not what it looks like.
Marie: I'm not talking to you. I do have a question for Debra, however: What have I done that you feel the need to destroy me?
Debra: What?
Marie: Who told you about braciole?
Debra: Nobody. I found a recipe in a magazine.
Marie: You found a recipe? Oh, you're a cook now!