cooking [Theme] Page 2

- Where are your eyes looking?
- But I...
Shut up, Kiki, kill!
- I'm not a wine...
- Shut up, slacker! Shame on my head!
- I meat...
- Lazy shameless.
- I started MS...
- Pardon, Madame. As I live, as they say in Paris...
Here is not Paris, and Amsterdam!

Everyone can cook, but there is magic.
Everyone can cook, but there must be magic.

Why, when you clean the eggs or cut the bread at the celebration, the feeling that everything is wonderful, amazing, and think that even may occur some miracle? And when the same is done in a normal day, it's just interesting?

A man who is good at cooking, the chance to conquer a woman's heart much more.

The ability to skillfully taken and beautifully served - not less important than preparation itself.

Impressive. Didn't know that there is a way to completely kill the taste of the food.

- Where foot hurt? - I asked, thinking to himself that surely this was a consequence of terrible bloodshed.
- Read a book "How not to get hurt from negligence" and landed in a drain.
The reason turned out to be surprisingly banal.
- And a hand?
The car hit a cliff.
And the forehead?
- Tested way to kill yourself by smashing your head on the corner of tofu.
- You hurt yourself on tofu?
I have prepared it according to the original recipe to give hardness. Salt removed the moisture, giving a load... And everything in the kitchen. He eventually became so dense that they could hammer nails, but I became the main expert on cooking tofu in the entire organization!
One of the five leaders is studying tiourine... Small modest gangsters did not understand what was going on in the minds of big bosses.

- What is it? Three years after the wedding I find out that I married a liar.
- Well, what do you say then?
Because you pretended not to know how to cook! But now, when the lie is exposed, you'll be like all the normal wife to stand at the stove! What is it, what is this masterpiece?
Are eggs Neapolitan... Look, I don't know how to cook, but it's not my fault it turned delicious!

Cooks today, Jill, so Breakfast was really a mess for every taste - liquid, thick, lumpy or burnt, depending on what part of the pan scoop.

- What do I do?
- You're going to stuff the chicken with vegetables.
And if she doesn't?
- She's dead.
- Then spoon fed!

- It is, of course, lamb anything, but only lamentating still - comparison tears alone! grumbled a Hullabaloo. - And on what I fry? Seven mages in the school, all large-headed - horror, one even academic, and you have a great deal of normal skewers make. Thank you, I'm two hundred short years ago the Marshal Davout, spaanse away. Good spagone - exactly twelve pieces.

- What is it?
Is the chicken.
- She's alive.
- Of course living. You asked for a fresh.
- But not so.

She is a great cook. Can't be a bad person, who knows how to cook.

- Buchman! My food was a nail, you fat-ass idiot! And yesterday I found a band-aid!
- Sorry, sir. Band-aid was holding my nail.
- What else do you put in your meals, Bachman?
- This is a very old family recipe, sir. It is a secret.
- Oh, my God. There's cockroaches in the flour. The ash from your cigars in the spaghetti. Jesus, Buckman! This thing on this boat since Korea! The shelf life has expired in 1966!
- And what of this, sir? The taste is still like Creamed corn.
Except that this stew!
- That's a problem.