Dorothy: You know, Ma, I seem to remember another time you were trying to make extra money so you could buy a TV set.
Sophia: Do you happen to be talking about Brooklyn, April 1954.
Dorothy: You remember that, but you don't know that MASH is off the air.
Sophia: A, shut up and stroll with me down memory lane.

[flashback:]
Salvadore: I'm home.
Sophia: I'll call the New York Times.
Salvadore: What's for dinner?
Sophia: Pierre is writing today's selections on the blackboard in the kitchen.
Salvadore: [o.s.] Ow, my tooth!
Sophia: Oh, yeah, I forgot. Stay away from the food on the table, it's wax.

[flashback:]
Salvadore: [o.s.] Hey, what the hell is this? I thought dinner was in the oven. There's nothing but a tin plate.
Sophia: Take the foil off the top. It's something new. It's called a TV dinner.
Salvadore: [o.s.] The wax fruit looks better.

[flashback:]
Dorothy: Ma, I need to ask you a favor. Uh, I wanna get a part-time job and I was wondering if you could watch the kids two days a week.
Sophia: Stan lost his job. I told you that yutz is a deadbeat.
Dorothy: Stan did not lose his job.
Sophia: His job, he could afford to lose. A novelty salesman. The novelty would be if he made a sale.
Salvadore: [o.s.] Don't listen to your mother. There's a big market for novelties. That plastic dog doo we snuck into Charlie Nadell's lunch pail, was a scream. I'll bet his cocker spaniel will catch hell for that tonight.
Sophia: Lucky me. I'm married to the Noel Coward of Canarsie.

Sophia: I won't let you throw away money. This TV thing is just a fad.
Salvadore: [o.s.] Hey, did you know this turkey comes with stuffing?
Dorothy: Ma, TV is not a fad. Otherwise Swanson would have called those radio dinners.
Sophia: I told you, no.
Salvadore: [o.s.] I didn't know these were mashed potatoes. They don't have lumps like yours.
Sophia: You want lumps, Salvadore, I'll give you lumps.

[flashback:]
Salvadore: [o.s.] These peas taste like fresh. But you can't mix them with the mashed potatoes. They should have a tunnel running from the pea compartment to the mashed potato compartment.
Dorothy: Ma, what is Pop talking about? What should you tell me?
Sophia: All right, all right. It's your tenth anniversary next month, your father and I decided to buy you a TV set as a gift.
Dorothy: Ma, you can't afford that.
Sophia: That's why I'm doing alterations. Think I need a wardrobe this size to go to Mulberry Street and squeeze a zucchini?

[flashback:]
Sophia: What's so funny?
Dorothy: I lied. I wanted the job so we could buy Pop a television for his birthday.
Sophia: Then it's settled. You buy us one, we'll buy you one.
Dorothy: It's a deal.
Sophia: Sure. Then your father can go watch the Friday night fights with your yutz of a husband, you can come here and watch Person to Person with me, and maybe once a week the whole family can come over and watch that new show, Make Room for Daddy.

[flashback:]
Sophia: Where are you going?
Salvadore: Get some air.
Sophia: We got air in the house.
Salvadore: I like beer with my air. You wait up for me?
Sophia: Don't I always?
Salvadore: I love you.
Sophia: I love you, too. I look at him, I see Errol Flynn.

[flashback:]
Marty: Blanche, you're not gonna believe this. I twisted my ankle. I can't dance.
Blanche: No, no, no, you have to.
Marty: I can't believe you're going to force me to dance all night in pain. I mean, if you win, you said you were gonna take all the money. What do I get out of this evening?
Blanche: Come here. [whispers in Marty's ear]
Marty: Let's samba.

[flashback:]
Rose: You know, this reminds me of the big dance back in St. Olaf to kick off Pretzel Week. My Uncle Gunther, after the great beer nut shortage of '21...
Dorothy: Foul! Foul! Send a judge over here. This woman is trying to put us to sleep.