Just then, the phone rings, and Christopher dumps Adriana out of his lap to answer it with a curt "I'm writing." It's Georgie from Bada Bing, telling Christopher to turn on Channel 6. Christopher relays this to Adriana, who flips the TV on; a talking head says that the attorney general has impaneled a grand jury on possible Mob activity in New Jersey, "with indictments to follow." The talking head introduces the author of the book called Mafia: America's Longest-Running Soap Opera, Jeffrey Wernick. Christopher looks tense.
Quick cut to Melfi, staring fascinated at her TV.
Cut back to the talking head with Wernick. TH asks Wernick about the FBI's contention that the Mob is "all but dead," and Wernick says that he "wouldn't call the fight" just yet; pan out to Tony and Carmela watching the broadcast. TH lists some of the possible counts of the indictments -- murder, drug trafficking, money laundering, the usual -- and asks if Wernick knows any names. Wernick says that he can't say for sure, but with the recent death of Jackie Aprile, his sources tell him that Corrado "Junior" Soprano took over, and the Sopranos have "long historic ties" to the New York families. Tony sips a Scotch and looks over at Carmela as TH asks about possible murder charges.
Adriana has her feet in Christopher's lap as Wernick says that the indictments will probably focus on the unsolved murder of Brendan Filone, and Adriana and Christopher exchange a "the hell?" look, and Christopher complains that Wernick called Brendan an associate: "No one would ever have ranked him as 'associate.'" Wernick goes on to call Brendan a loyal soldier, and Christopher snaps off the TV in a fit of pique: "'Brendan Filone, associate, soldier'? Fuck you!" He throws the remote into a corner. "Jesus!" Adriana whines. Christopher grabs the phone and calls the club and asks Georgie if he saw the broadcast from the beginning, and "did they mention my name?" The answer is clearly no, because Christopher curtly tells Georgie to "stop the fuckin' chit-chat" and slams down the receiver.
In a dining room, a kid in Buddy Holly glasses calls out, "Nobody makes ginzo gravy like you, Nana. I'm up at Bard waiting for my care package." Oh, it's Jason, Melfi's son. Yeah, I've got your care package right here, Sniffy McPhilosophymajor. Melfi comes in and snaps at Jason that she doesn't like "that word." "What, 'ginzo'?" Melfi says that it's offensive, and Nana bustles in with a platter and agrees that it's "not a nice word," and Jason reveals that he doesn't even know what "ginzo" really means. "It's a derivation of 'guinea,'" he's told. Dinner preparations go on, with Jason's grandfather at the head of the table and Melfi's ex-husband Richard milling around; Jason doesn't know what "guinea" means, either. What is he, from Maine? Who doesn't know what "guinea" means? I mean, it's pretty arcane as slurs for "Italian-American" go, but still. Richard tells him that "it's a derogation." Melfi remarks that she has a patient who "you wouldn't want to say 'guinea' in front of." Banter about the patient's mother issues; Nana wants to know why you wouldn't want to say "guinea" in front of this patient: "Is he in the Mafia?" Melfi quickly denies that and asks if they can change the subject. Jason and Richard laugh and ask again if the patient is in the Mob. Melfi yells from the kitchen that "nobody knows better than you, Richard, I can't discuss my patients." Nana hopes it's not one of the guys "on the news." The grandfather suggests that she refer the guy to another doctor, and Richard agrees that she could. Melfi sternly tells her father to grate the Parmesan. She sits down and tells her husband, "That might be what you would do, Richard. Now I remember why we got divorced," and she doesn't see why she should refer him to someone else. Richard points out, "You know you can't treat sociopaths -- he's scum, and you shouldn't help him with his bed-wetting."
Melfi argues that he has no idea what he's talking about, but Richard is on a roll, saying that guys like her patient give Italian-Americans a bad name; Nana agrees with him, and Melfi glares at her. Richard adds that, when asked for their image of Italian-Americans, most other Americans will mention The Godfather, GoodFellas, and pizza. "Good movies to eat pizza by," Jason interjects, and Melfi chastises him (word), adding that she didn't even say that her patient is a gangster. More debating along these lines: why we'll never have an Italian president blah blah blah "blame Hollywood" blah blah blah "the constant portrayal of Italian-Americans as gangsters" blah blah blah Scorsese-cakes. Melfi fumes. Richard says that, at its height, the Mob only had five thousand members, but they cast their shadow over twenty million "hard-working Americans." Jason responds that the Mob movie has become a classic genre of American cinema, "like Westerns." More back-and-forth. The grandfather raises a toast "to we -- the twenty million." Everyone says salut.