Jane Sokol: You live in some strange world of potpourri and jam. Do you know that there is a real world out there, a world full of crime and poverty? Chelsea, open your eyes!
Chelsea Stevens: The world is ugly, Jane, I know that, believe me. That's why I try to get people to see the beauty of simple things. When we grow our own vegetables, when we bake our own bread. Crime, poverty - in a world that smells of freshly baked bread? I don't think so!
Chelsea Stevens: I'm gonna tell you both a story and I hope that you can figure out the message. A couple of years ago, some friends of mine brought their child to my home - I don't know what the hell they were thinking, but that's another story. I took the child on a tour of the grounds and out behind the compost heap we came upon a dead bird. I explained the cycle of life and death to the child. I picked the bird up gently and brought it into the house, dipped it in lacquer and stuck it on a wreath. I'm telling you, it looks incredible! So, what is the point of my story?
Jane Sokol: When something is dead, it's dead. You have to accept it... or put it on a wreath.
Terry: Um, Ken Kline called.
Chelsea Stevens: Kevin Kline?
Chelsea Stevens: Calvin Kline?
[Terry shakes his head]
Chelsea Stevens: Kelly Kline? Carol Kane? Carol King... Beverly Sills?
[Chelsea fishes a coupon from Jane's purse and appears horrified]
Chelsea Stevens: Macaroni and cheese? From a box?
Jane Sokol: It's filling and inexpensive.
Chelsea Stevens: I can't argue, Jane, but if that were the only criteria for nourishment, there'd be a lot more recipes for dirt.
[Jane's answering machine kicks on]
Jane Sokol: Hi, this is Jane. I'm a New Yorker now, so leave a message or I'll kill you!
Chelsea Stevens: Hi, Jane, it's Chelsea. Loved your message. The part about the killing left me cold, but I'm sure that's just me. Are you there Jane? If you're there, please pick up. Jane, if you're there and you're not picking up that would make me feel just awful, so I hope you're not doing that. Jane, I'm warning you, you're messing with the wrong lady - pick up the damned phone!
Jane Sokol: I'm having a little trouble figuring Chelsea out. Maybe you could help me, tell me what she's really like.
Earl: Hell, of course. You know, if you've ever been down on the farm, there's always one Philly in the barn who's proud, fiery, hard to handle, but then a storm whips out from outta nowhere - rain, wind, thunder lightning - and that same Philly's shivering in the far corner of her stall. Well, Miss Chelsea is a lot like that storm.
Chelsea Stevens: Jane, forgive me but I was arranging my linens according to thread count and I lost track of the time.
Chelsea Stevens: Oh, I know! We can play a game. I've got a good one, it's called Name Your Favorite Spice. This is what we do, we each name out favorite spice and then we compare. Okay? I'll go first. Cardamon!
Jane Sokol: What?
Chelsea Stevens: Cardamon!
Jane Sokol: Do you hear yourself?
Steve: Be honest. Life without me scares you.
Jane Sokol: It's been almost a week and I'm doing okay.
[Chelsea bursts out of the kitchen]
Chelsea Stevens: Okay, I have two comments and one question.
Jane Sokol: Chelsea!
Chelsea Stevens: Hush! Comment one: Jane knows how to take care of herself. Comment two: She does not need a relationship to define herself. Question: Where do you keep your Mellonballer?
Jane Sokol: I don't have one?
Chelsea Stevens: Parchment paper?
Jane Sokol: No.
Chelsea Stevens: Your thirteen and a quarter by nine and a quarter by five-eighths baking pan? Well, I guess this is what it would be like if I was forced to cook in a Turkish prison.
Terry: Francine Messenger called and said thanks for the padlocks.
Chelsea Stevens: That's Nancy Kissinger, she's thanking me for the gravlax.
Terry: Right, okay. Uh, Franklin Geller called and...
Chelsea Stevens: That's Frank Langella.
Terry: Okay. Uh, he needs advice on planting an urban garden.
Chelsea Stevens: That's herb garden. Terry, breathe.