Mike Robinson Chef Cookbook Novels & Stories

When she saw this, she couldn't help but exclaim secretly, this man actually cooked Barbecue Beef Ribs. There was also a plate of salted shrimps on a beautiful plate. Mashed eggplant, fried tomato and eggs were Franklin' favorite. "I'll make these dishes tonight, make do with what you got!" When Roderick carried the dishes out, he went into the kitchen and carried the rice out with the insulated gloves. "This... You didn't make it up, did you? Are you sure this is your first time cooking?" Victoria pointed to the dishes on the table, feeling speechless.

” “It's fine, Sophia. I will update you if I find out anything.” “Oh, okay! I will wait for your call. Bye, and take care!!” The moment Sophia disconnected the call, she felt two big hands wrapping around her waist, and someone placed his chin on her shoulder. “How do you manage you cook such amazing food even though you don’t use spices or oils in the food?” “Well, what can I say? Both my brother and sister-in-law are chefs!!” Sophia responded and turned her head, and kissed his cheek. “And Rebecca’s hotels and restaurant are Michelin stars; you know that?”

Once she left the room, the windows opened again. Mystro stood confidently in his big and spacious kitchen, preparing a delicious dinner for himself and Elaine. He had been secretly practicing his cooking skills for weeks, and tonight was the night to unveil his culinary skills. He planned to prepare a dish - spaghetti and meatballs. Mystro carefully measured the ingredients for the tomato sauce. He knew that the key to a perfect sauce was the right balance of flavors - tangy tomatoes, aromatic garlic, sweet onions, and a hint of basil. As the sauce simmered on the stovetop, filling the air with a mouthwatering aroma, he couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment.

He wasn’t like other heartless boys, who sent the wounded man out and continued playing like that incident didn’t even matter. Lost in the memories of the past, I was glancing at the decorations in awe when Xavion cleaned his throat to garner my attention. “I haven’t learned to cook yet, but I hope you will like my chef Michael’s signature dishes. His seafood sauce is to die for.” Chef Michael? My mind drifted back to the Michelin star restaurant in Lake city, the one who prepared birthday dinner for me once. Xavion had booked an entire restaurant to surprise me on my seventeenth birthday. I gasped in disbelief.

He flatly refused to treat me with tasty food with often comes with less healthier options. My face fell and I looked down. “But we can make healthy food delicious. Spending the weekends at Mrs. Bobby’s place helped me to cook a few recipes. Do you want to try my cooking?” He asked. “You will cook for me, now?” I asked blinking my eyes in disbelief. “Yes, do you have doubts on my skills? I think I have never disappointed you in my skills.” He winked at me and when I decoded his pun, my cheeks burned with shyness.

Which I know can't be true, given this is my first time seeing him use the stove or any appliance besides the fridge. The majority of our nights, it's the private chef manning the kitchen solo, meal prepping for us and cooking a wide variety of fresh dinners— beef wellington, risotto, fish, Indian and Italian cuisine, and dishes I've never heard of. I've eaten like a true queen by the hands of an ex-Michelin Star chef for the past month and a half. Stealing the spatula from him, I unfold the burnt side, unstick the eggs around the rim and fold the omelet correctly.

After that, Charlie ordered, "Madam needs to pick up some cooking skills. Please teach her to make Mr. Quigley's favorite dishes." "Understood," the three chefs responded in unison. Their formation was spectacular. "Madam, please." A chef had already approached Summer and made a gesture of invitation. She followed him into the kitchen and heard him begin to explain, "Mr. Quigley's favorite dish is baked lobster. It is very simple to make. First, clean the lobster ..." "Wait!" Before he could continue, Summer immediately stopped him. She only wanted to learn simple dishes, not fancy ones with costly ingredients.

I hear Michael’s voice before he whistles to Joy and she runs to her plate, munching on her food. This feels so intimate… like we’re actually a family. Michael made Mashed Potatoes and gravy with steak and veggies on the side. And it’s the best homemade meal I’ve ever had in a really long time. How did he learn how to cook so well? With all the money he has, I didn’t expect him to know how to light the gas. We eat in silence, partly because there’s a little tension from our earlier argument, and partly because there’s nothing to say to him.

*** (HUSTON VILLA——-) Meanwhile, across town, Xavier stood over the glimmering stove in his chic industrial kitchen, his hands deftly slicing vegetables with precision. The aroma of garlic and herbs filled the air, but his mind was miles away. He was swathed in the intoxicating embrace of his craft, but there was an unsettling undercurrent that nagged at him. Mike leaned against the kitchen doorway, surveying the bustling scene. He’s been cooking since he woke up this morning. "Xavier, are we having a feast? You’ve been cooking nonstop…" he began tentatively, Xavier didn’t spare him a glance. “I just feel like doing that,” Xavier simply shut him up.

Gabrielle teases, her voice carrying a touch of playful mockery. Mrs. Robinson smiles, stirring the Arborio rice into the pan, each grain soaking in the glistening oil. "It’s the simplest things that bring the most comfort, Gabby," she replies, adding a splash of white wine, the liquid hissing and evaporating, leaving behind an intoxicating richness. As the chicken stock simmers in a separate pot, she begins ladling it in, one scoop at a time, watching the rice plump and soften with every stir.