Never Cook Again Novels & Stories

- Baby, the only one who really knows how to cook in this house is you," Dereck teaches me. And if we don't want to starve when you can't, we don't have much choice. - We tried," admits Clara. - It was a disaster," adds Mathis. - We nearly set fire to the kitchen," Reed tells me, covering his face. - I've bought a Cookeo especially for you guys, so you can get on with things on your own while I'm away. Once you're connected, all you have to do is follow the recipe on the screen! - I plead guilty," says Clara. When I saw the disaster they were capable of creating just for breakfast, I feared it was capable of toasting the appliance and I'm not up to speed on all the technology yet," she grima

"I give up." Instead of continuing to try to cook, I order a pizza and start cleaning up, trying to ignore the pain in my hand. My parents told me I shouldn’t eat junk food every day, but what else can I do? It's not like my mom taught me how to cook anyway. It's not like she makes a lot of home-cooked meals, either.

Jake was so exasperated, he kissed Syila's cheek again and again, before kissing the top of her head. Syila's cheeks reddened. “Can't I? You don't buy cooking utensils and ingredients either. Your kitchen is cool, but how come no one ever uses it?” “Well, you know.” Jake cleared his throat. “I can't cook. Moreover, Dio and Rein didn't even cook the water to make coffee, so I threw the pot away. I clean everything from my messy kitchen.”

"Don't make too much. Just two simple dishes will do. I just want to try your cooking. Don't consider those two old coots VIPs and give them everything good to eat. "If you're tired, rest. What's the point of working too hard?" Rebecca felt a warmth in her chest at his words. The joy on her face never wavered. "Alright, Grandpa. I know what to do. Go rest. It's hot in the kitchen. It's not good for you to stand so much at your age, either." From what Rebecca had heard from Albert, the Stigg family had been going downhill these past few years. This was because none of the younger generations of the Stigg family wanted to learn culinary arts.

Well, that's fine, but I'm definitely not the one to teach him that. I turned to him and smirked. “That's not a part of my job, Noah… I mean, teaching people how to cook.” He smiled softly. "Oh, I see." “If you want to learn how to cook, that's why there is YouTube and other social media platforms. I'm sure you can make time to check them out.” “Hmm.” “Now, if you'll excuse me. I need to focus.” I said, turning away from him. Ugh! I can't believe I'm doing this. I should've just ignored him.

“I didn’t make you.” “You absolutely did.” She tilts her head, studying me. “Sit there. Eat. Talk.” “I was older.” “You were bossy.” “I was responsible.” She laughs quietly. “You left.” The word lands between us. Not thrown. Just placed. I don’t answer right away. She doesn’t push. I clear my throat. “Food okay?” “Yeah,” she says. “You didn’t forget how to cook.” “Low bar.” “Still.” She eats another bite, then sets her fork down. “You never told me why.”

“You never serve wolves vegetables alone. Where is the meat?” “You used to like it…” “I never liked your cooking,” I said. “It felt like torture and when you left I could breathe easily. Now you’re back, I can’t imagine myself going back to that. Never make my meals again. Have I made myself clear?”

She averted her eyes from me as she stood up before she let out the words, “… forever.” She got that magic that would make me say yes since the first time I saw her. I know how to cook, but I never cook. Once, I tried going to a culinary school because I couldn’t think of anything to do in that lifetime so I tried it even though I don’t eat. I experienced eating before when I was still human and somehow I still have the memories of what food tastes like. Sometimes, I tried eating too but it tasted worse so I never did it again. Right now, it’s my first time cooking again without tasting the food. I might use my sense of smell and let her taste it.

“Really?” “Absolutely. Except I can’t make any promises that I won’t burn everything.” She shook her head. “We’ll be doing it together. And we’ll have recipes.” “I’ve never cooked a turkey,” I warned. “How hard can it be? Loads of people do it all the time.” “Okay.” I chuckled. “I’ll give you that.”

But standing there, watching her fidget nervously, I didn’t feel any of that. She just looked too… sincere and fragile in that moment. She was just trying to make a meal. “It’s fine,” I said finally. Her head snapped up. “Really?” “Yes,” I said firmly. “It’s fine. Accidents happen.” She still looked unconvinced, her lips pressed together. “I didn’t really mean to—” “I know,” I interrupted gently. “But next time, please don’t try to cook.” She sighed sadly, but replied. “Okay.”