Tag Archive | chef

Working on my Dishpan Hands. They are Little, but they are Strong


As much as I like to watch my Daddy cook and to pretend that I am cooking in my little kitchen, I am not allowed yet to help the way that I want to. I reach out to the stove to stir, and Daddy has let me very, very carefully, but he says the word “hot” and “ouch” and “careful.” He gets scared because I get close to the hot pan, because even though I say “hot” back to him, I don’t know exactly how “hot” things can be yet. I know when food is hot I have to blow on it to get it cool before it joins my belly, but that is not the same kind of hot as a pan or a pot gets apparently.

One thing that I can do, though, that my Granny taught me, is to wash the dishes in our little kitchen. There is a sink full of water and the other side runs water and has the dishes that have our food germs on them. I take all of the things that aren’t sharp or scary and I run them under the water after they have been washed to get the soap right off of them. I do this until the sink is empty, and then I get sad because I want to do it all over again. I don’t understand why we can’t just do everything twice just to make sure that they are clean. Mama tells me that there are lots of things to do to keep the house clean that that they aren’t really fun for big people, but I don’t understand. After all, after Mama folded the clothes this morning, I took some of them and put them on the floor for her to do over. She said, “oh Dorian, please,” and I was glad that she appreciated the work that I was doing. I let her have laundry fun all over again.

All that I know is that all of the “chores” that Mama and Daddy seem to do all of the time really don’t seem bad at all. After all, I am now a dish expert, and those are fun. Mama and Daddy just need to find the joy in every day life like me.

I Can Taste the Earth, and it’s Delicious.


Daddy is our cook, and last night he made a yummy veggie stew with tomatoes, leeks, carrots, asparagus, squash, zucchini, barley, and herbs. It was so, so good in my belly that I couldn’t wait for the new bite while I was eating the one in my mouth. I wanted it to get in my belly faster than I could even swallow it.

Because it cooked for a long time, it was soft and it melted together when you ate it. That’s how stew is, Daddy says. It cooks for a while, and all of the flavors come together in a way that makes it all taste yummy and slide right down into your belly. It makes you warm and cozy, and since it is cold outside here, that is perfect to make you feel sleepy and happy.

Before the food melts together though, it goes into the big strainer so it can get washed and then it gets cut up. I like to take the pieces of food that most people don’t eat cold, and I take big bites out of them. Last night Mama washed an entire leek and when I reached for it, Daddy gave it to me thinking that I may play with it. Instead, though, just like I do for lots of veggies, I took a bite out of it like an apple with my four little teeth. Then I took another, and another, and another, until the leek had a large part missing from it. It was all chewed up when I gave it back to Daddy.

I do that with a lot of veggies before they are cooked, which Daddy says are “raw foods.” They give me pieces of all of the veggies to eat before they are heated up. I love them—they taste like the dandelions that I am always stealing from the yard and eating.

Daddy says that raw veggies are really healthy because heating them up takes some of the good stuff in the food out of the food, and he says some people only eat “raw” food that is barely heated or not heated at all so that they can get all of the good stuff. He said that it is good that I like them as much as I do, and he says if I keep eating that way and liking those things that I will be really healthy as I get bigger and bigger. I don’t care about that, though, I just care that I can taste the Earth with every bite… and the Earth tastes wonderful.

I am Working on Three Michelin Stars. Watch out, Gordon Ramsay, Because Here I Come.


My Daddy is a great home chef. He knows how to make anything, and often Mama will say something like, “I sure would like to have” and then says some kind of food. Daddy will usually whip it up for her and he makes it delicious every time. Daddy said that food is one way to show love and that he shows all of us that he loves us so, so much by making us food that we love. Food is happiness, after all, and I learned that life lesson early on. I. Love. Food.

I love to watch Daddy cook too, and I even get to help him in the kitchen sometimes. He will give me a big pot and a spoon and teach me to stir, and even though I am little, he shows me what he is doing and explains it to me. He has me taste the food that he is making too, and that is my favorite part. He says that if I keep being a big helper that I will grow up knowing to cook and that I can learn how things go together. He says that there is a lot to know but that I can know all that he does one day, and he says my food wouldn’t be the same because I would learn to make it my own way.

Because I like to watch Daddy cook and I love to pretend to stir in pots and pans just like my Daddy, and because when food is happening Daddy can’t have me in there all the time because I tend to get right under his feet, I now have my own little kitchen with my own steel mini pan and my own wisk. I have my own little food in my own little fridge, too, so I can add salt and pepper and flavor like my Daddy does. I can do everything that my Daddy can do in my little kitchen that is right where I can watch Daddy and copy him. My big sister Addie and my big, big sister Lilli can help to make pretend food happen, too, and they love to play with me.


In my mind I am a famous chef like Gordon Ramsay, who we watch on Netflix all of the time. I even scream like him when things aren’t the way that I have in my head. I am a natural born leader, and one day, Mr. Ramsay, I may well be competition for you. Come over and see what I can do, magical Michelin food people, you may just be surprised.


Little Pancakes All for Me

photo 2

My Daddy makes pancakes on Sundays. I love pancake day because they smell so wonderful in the kitchen. I don’t know what patience is, but Daddy tells me that it means waiting and not getting upset about waiting. I don’t get it.

Daddy makes sure that pancakes are out as fast as he can because he knows that I don’t like hungry and hungry doesn’t like me. He is quick like my doggie Mr. Django when he is running for a treat in the kitchen, and he goes all over the place in order to make food happen.

Daddy always gets my pancakes out first, and he even makes little pancakes just the size of my hands for me so that I can hold them and get pieces with my four little teeth that Daddy tells me looks like a beaver. They sometimes even have shapes in them, and today they had Little D’s because that is what they call me… little D. I eat and eat and eat until my little belly sticks out, and they give me fuel to play for a long time.

Sometimes little things can show love, and my Daddy’s little pancakes are full of love and love and love for me. Thanks for being our food hero, Daddy.

photo 1