In Bibi's Kitchen Novels & Stories

I shook it off, pushed the blanket aside, and padded out of the room. Laughter came from downstairs. Bibi’s laughter. The kind that fills every corner and makes everything else fade for a moment. When I reached the kitchen, I stopped at the doorway. Kaiden was standing by the counter wearing an apron, my apron flipping pancakes with exaggerated focus while Bibi sat on the counter beside him, kicking her feet and grinning like she was watching a magician. “Daddy, it’s burning!” she squealed. “It’s not burning,” he said quickly, flipping it again. “It’s just... getting a little suntan.”

Even a simple question was loaded with a tone of irony and extreme arrogance. "Yes, why the surprise? "It's a haute cuisine dish," Sloane pointed out. ""Yes, and if anyone deserves to eat well, it's me," Izzy shrugged, ticking off the list of ingredients she would need, making me laugh. "Eggs Benedict for breakfast, right? "I teased her. "Exactly, Bergqvist "Izzy winked at me. I heard some whispers around us, but I couldn't have cared less. I was tired of pretending not to be crazy about that woman.

It would be easier if I uploaded them to social media myself, but dealing with all those perverts from other countries sending me erotic private messages doesn't interest me one bit. Thankfully, Jonathan hasn't thought of that yet, or it could be a problem between us. I don't know jealous, but judging by the fact that he's a dominator, it tells me a lot about his personality. I'm learning to make kibbeh with Nadia. It's not difficult at all, and it's delicious. She will serve the boss tonight. I was already used to eating kibbeh on the streets of Dubai, but Nadia's kibbeh tastes different. The taste of someone who makes it without rushing and who loves her job. Just as I finish eating some o

I said closing my eyes with my two palms "Do you need pinching" I hear Kira say "Damn, this kitchen smells so nice. Where did you guys get all this stuff from," I asked, still admiring what I saw. The kitchen was kinda messy. On one side was flour poured on the table and broken eggs placed inside each other, and on the other side of the table were some veggies roots. The kitchen smelt nice, but the appearance of the kitchen said otherwise. There was a bowl scattered on the table, knives and flour all over some kitchen cabinets, and some batter spilt on the table. I know Kira is a chef because we work in the same restaurant, and she stays in the kitchen department doing all their flipping stu

"Check on the rice, ask them to serve it if it's ready." Bashir nodded, got up from where he was working on his laptop. He set it down on the dining table and I spied the drawing of a set of detached duplexes, I shook my head. Baba and Bilal are the same in the terms of work, they work until the very last minute. I've noticed the short time I've been here that Bashir's forms of entertainment are only designing houses and designing more houses.

Theo’s voice from the foyer, low and lazy, saying something about how “downtown Portland has a gift for sucking the soul out of rich people.” I opened my eyes fully. Issa wasn’t beside me. Neither was Max. A small panic rose. “Bibi, if this soup has a lot of carrots, I cannot support it,” Issa’s voice came from the kitchen. “I support carrots if there’s bread,” Max followed. Okay. Still alive. Still arrogant. Still mine.

One of the questions I like him to answer, Anna thought, is why he couldn’t have waited another hour or two before deciding to infringe on what could have been a very delightful afternoon. Anna collected the trash and put it into the garbage container under the sink just as the intercom buzzed, announcing Bibi’s request to be admitted into the building. Once he arrived, Nate directed him to the items on the kitchen table. As Nate predicted, Bibi clearly understood the astrological charts, but needed to double check the data what he was seeing to be sure of the exact interpretation. Bibi opened his laptop next to the charts on the kitchen table.

he said. I looked at him. "In fourteen months?" I said. "In longer than that," he said. I sat with that. "The dinner tonight," I said. "Where is this place you found?" "East side," he said. I looked at him. "Not that east side," he said. "Further east. Past all of it." He paused. "A woman named Bisi runs it. Twelve tables. She cooks everything herself." "How did you find it?" I said. "Jonas," he said.

“I am so excited to have you on the team. Here is a book of recipes of the stuff we make or have made. With Becki pregnant some of it couldn’t be made.” “Wow,” Rosalie said looking at the 2 inch binder full of recipes. She looked a few over before looking away. The excitement spread across her face and Mama Chika smiled even bigger. “They should be organized, but I haven’t looked at it in months.” Mama Chika smiled. “Now that cousin of yours should be around here somewhere. I’ll go find him if you wanted to pop into the shop. I’ll get him back here for these.” “Thank you.” Rosalie smiled happily, as she followed the old women out. The café was quiet now with a few people around. She realize

A quiet morning in Bibury Village. The cold morning air at the end of autumn crept gently through the window cracks. In the warm and cozy kitchen of the Alexander Family's house, the aroma of toast, omelets, and potato soup, a typical dish of Bibury Village, began to spread. Mrs. Miriam, wearing a floral apron, deftly prepared breakfast for her family. The woman did it herself. Mrs. Miriam was a meticulous housewife. For her, cooking was her way of showing love to her family. Occasionally, she glanced out the window, seeing the expanse of the garden that was beginning to be decorated with yellow and red leaves.