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Authors: Laura Levine
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With “Chef Hank” embroidered on the pocket!
That’s right. He now refers to himself as Chef Hank. And calls me his “sous chef.” (Which means I get to clean up his messes.)
He insists on doing all the cooking, and everything he makes is “à la Hank.” Pork Chops à la Hank. Chicken à la Hank. The man nukes some Tater Tots, and it’s Tater Tots à la Hank. And he’s constantly using his ridiculous Turbomaster “Secret Spice,” which I swear is nothing but paprika. I’m lucky he doesn’t put it on our oatmeal.
When he’s not making a mess in the kitchen, he’s glued to the Food Network, shouting at the real chefs, telling them what they’re doing wrong!
Last night he used up some of that five-pound bag of popcorn and made roast chicken with popcorn stuffing. Have you ever heard of anything so silly? He calls it his Popalicious Chicken à la Hank.
And don’t even ask what it all tastes like. Ninety percent of the stuff that comes out of that dratted Turbomaster tastes like leather. (The other 10 percent tastes like rubber.) Even Edna Lindstrom’s dog Buster won’t eat Daddy’s food, and Buster once ate a Frisbee. Usually I wind up tossing my meal into my napkin when he’s not looking.
It’s a good thing I’ve got my secret stash of Oreos in the broom closet.
Love from your frazzled,
Mom
To: Jausten
From: DaddyO
Subject: Discovering My Inner Chef
Has Mom told you about my exciting new life as a chef? Yes, it’s true. I’ve taken over cooking duties and am preparing all our meals. It’s about time I gave your poor mom a break in the kitchen. And although she hasn’t come right out and said so, I can tell she’s very grateful. You should see the way she gobbles up my food. Her plate is clean at the end of every meal.
Just between you and me, lambchop, I have to confess that my cooking is a lot better than hers. Not that your mom isn’t a wonderful cook. She’s just not on my advanced level. I never realized I had such an aptitude for the culinary arts. I’ll always be grateful to the Turbomaster 3000 for helping me discover my Inner Chef.
Well, I think I’ll mosey over to the clubhouse and see what’s doing. Haven’t been there in a dog’s age.
Love & hugs from,
Chef Hank
(aka Daddy)
To: Jausten
From: Shoptillyoudrop
Subject: Encouraging News
Daddy just left to go to the clubhouse. It’s the first time he’s been out of the house in days. Maybe it means his interest in cooking has peaked. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that this ridiculous craze may soon be over.
XOXO,
Mom
To: Jausten
From: DaddyO
Subject: A Shoo-In to Win!
What a lucky thing I decided to go the clubhouse! I was just about to invite some of the guys over for some Cheese Doodles à la Hank when I happened to glance at the bulletin board. Imagine my delight when I saw a notice announcing the annual Tampa Vistas Cookathon. Isn’t that exciting, lambchop? A cooking contest, right here in Tampa Vistas!
I’m a shoo-in to win, of course. I’ve decided to enter with a fabulous new recipe I’ve invented: popcorn-stuffed roast chicken. I call it my Popalicious Chicken à la Hank. Clever, huh?
Well, gotta run and tell Mom the exciting news!
Bon appetit from,
Chef Hank
(aka Daddy)
Chapter 8
I spent the next several days working on mattress ideas. Marvin had been kind of vague about what he wanted, so I tried lots of different approaches:
All-Purpose: Sleep Like a King, with Mattress King
Corny: If You Can Find a Cheaper Mattress Anywhere,
I’ll Eat My Crown
Risqué: We’re Good in Bed
Comedy: Take My Mattress—Please
Derivative: Got Mattress?
And following in Vladimir’s poetic footsteps, I even tried haiku:
In the pale moonlight
My backache throbs—I should’ve shopped
At Marvelous Marv’s
Clearly, my ideas needed work. So I hunkered down and pounded out some
That’s right. He now refers to himself as Chef Hank. And calls me his “sous chef.” (Which means I get to clean up his messes.)
He insists on doing all the cooking, and everything he makes is “à la Hank.” Pork Chops à la Hank. Chicken à la Hank. The man nukes some Tater Tots, and it’s Tater Tots à la Hank. And he’s constantly using his ridiculous Turbomaster “Secret Spice,” which I swear is nothing but paprika. I’m lucky he doesn’t put it on our oatmeal.
When he’s not making a mess in the kitchen, he’s glued to the Food Network, shouting at the real chefs, telling them what they’re doing wrong!
Last night he used up some of that five-pound bag of popcorn and made roast chicken with popcorn stuffing. Have you ever heard of anything so silly? He calls it his Popalicious Chicken à la Hank.
And don’t even ask what it all tastes like. Ninety percent of the stuff that comes out of that dratted Turbomaster tastes like leather. (The other 10 percent tastes like rubber.) Even Edna Lindstrom’s dog Buster won’t eat Daddy’s food, and Buster once ate a Frisbee. Usually I wind up tossing my meal into my napkin when he’s not looking.
It’s a good thing I’ve got my secret stash of Oreos in the broom closet.
Love from your frazzled,
Mom
To: Jausten
From: DaddyO
Subject: Discovering My Inner Chef
Has Mom told you about my exciting new life as a chef? Yes, it’s true. I’ve taken over cooking duties and am preparing all our meals. It’s about time I gave your poor mom a break in the kitchen. And although she hasn’t come right out and said so, I can tell she’s very grateful. You should see the way she gobbles up my food. Her plate is clean at the end of every meal.
Just between you and me, lambchop, I have to confess that my cooking is a lot better than hers. Not that your mom isn’t a wonderful cook. She’s just not on my advanced level. I never realized I had such an aptitude for the culinary arts. I’ll always be grateful to the Turbomaster 3000 for helping me discover my Inner Chef.
Well, I think I’ll mosey over to the clubhouse and see what’s doing. Haven’t been there in a dog’s age.
Love & hugs from,
Chef Hank
(aka Daddy)
To: Jausten
From: Shoptillyoudrop
Subject: Encouraging News
Daddy just left to go to the clubhouse. It’s the first time he’s been out of the house in days. Maybe it means his interest in cooking has peaked. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that this ridiculous craze may soon be over.
XOXO,
Mom
To: Jausten
From: DaddyO
Subject: A Shoo-In to Win!
What a lucky thing I decided to go the clubhouse! I was just about to invite some of the guys over for some Cheese Doodles à la Hank when I happened to glance at the bulletin board. Imagine my delight when I saw a notice announcing the annual Tampa Vistas Cookathon. Isn’t that exciting, lambchop? A cooking contest, right here in Tampa Vistas!
I’m a shoo-in to win, of course. I’ve decided to enter with a fabulous new recipe I’ve invented: popcorn-stuffed roast chicken. I call it my Popalicious Chicken à la Hank. Clever, huh?
Well, gotta run and tell Mom the exciting news!
Bon appetit from,
Chef Hank
(aka Daddy)
Chapter 8
I spent the next several days working on mattress ideas. Marvin had been kind of vague about what he wanted, so I tried lots of different approaches:
All-Purpose: Sleep Like a King, with Mattress King
Corny: If You Can Find a Cheaper Mattress Anywhere,
I’ll Eat My Crown
Risqué: We’re Good in Bed
Comedy: Take My Mattress—Please
Derivative: Got Mattress?
And following in Vladimir’s poetic footsteps, I even tried haiku:
In the pale moonlight
My backache throbs—I should’ve shopped
At Marvelous Marv’s
Clearly, my ideas needed work. So I hunkered down and pounded out some
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