Wotcha mate. Be with yoou soon, Just tast this soup, yeah? Lick the spoon. I'll just bosh in a bit more salt - And add a little splash of malt. I Love to cook stuff - it's my life. I try out dishes on my wife. There is no bigger thrill for me than thinking up a recipe. I don't cook boring things, all right? Let's say it's shepherds pir tonight. I don't use minced - up lamb or beef, No, I use real shepherds, chief! I'm famous fot the gigantic pies. I made one once - cor, what a size! It took a ton of mammoth meat And pastry bigger than a sheet. Heaby? I should cocoa, mate I put it on a massive plate and drove it up the beanstalk, like. It really knackered up by bike. The geezer there was a pleased as punch. Enormous bloke! He liked his lunch. But when he saw my face, fi - fum! He wasn't very happy, chum. I catered for this bloke, Jack Sprat. His wife was really into fat I sorted them. It wasn't hard - I streamed his leeks, i fried her lard. I had a call to go to Norwich. Was I any good at porridge? I said I'd give the thing a stir. (completely bear, this trio were.) They'd had a problem, so they said. The little blond girl in their bed complained the porridge was too hot, and full of lumps. Oh drear, what? "You don't want this old stinky glue,
" I said "I'll tell you what I'll do, I'll make a pukka fry - up, yeah?" Which really pleased the daddy bear. Baby bear was chuffed as nuts. He stuffed his little furry guts so much he couldn't zip his jeans. Whoops! Pardon me. To many beans! One summer's day I made a tart who was it for? A Queenie Heart. Quite posh she was. She wore a crown, Lived in a palace up in the town. I left it on her shelf, I swear. I turned my back - it wasn't there! She threw me out, Refused to pay and said some Knave stole it away! She had crumbs all down her cloak The Knave was innocent , poor bloke. She ate that tart all steaming hot and scrumptious. Yeah, she scoffed the lot. I am a wicked cook, it's true. I can concoct a magic stew. But mine is nourishing and rich, Not like my client's, Mrs Witch. I had a call from her last week. Come hither, Jeff iIb heard her squeak. My children will not eat anything, they're thinner than a peice of string! She told me to go round that night to try a whet their appitite. And give the fussy girl and boy a supper they would both enjoy. The witch live in a spooky wood. It did my moped wheels no good. My baking tins fell off the back. My chocolate chips fell down the crack. A ghost nicked all my cooking spoons ( I heard it somewhere plaing tune). My veg was pinched by a phantom horse. A vampier stole my tomato sauce. The witch was waiting by the gate.
I said "sorry I'm late. The ghosts and ghoulies nabbed my gear - I'd watch it, luv, it's rough round here." "Come and meeet the kids she said. (Her house was made of gingerbread!) Feel free to use my cauldron, dear. The weighing scales are over here."
I said, " They won't get very fat on eye newt and toungue of bat. No if you want those kids to eat, try treacle sponge or something sweet. "They'll soon pile on the pounds.! I said. But while I buttered up the bread I heard he whispering. She grinned,
"I'll have those little darling skinned!"
She never realised I heard. I didn't trust that mean, old bird. I sent her out to fetch some stage and found the children is a cage.
"Help us, Famous chef!"
They cried. Poor Gretel sobbed,
"We're stuck inside! She'll have us roasted! Chopped in half! Ooh... may i have you autograph?"
I'm a wizard so they say, at cooking, and i know my way around the kitchen, that is true My recipies are magic too. I found a really weird book about what witches like to cook and secrelty, I thought I'd make the recipe for Malkin Cake. I searched the larder. There were lots of nasty little things in pots. Toads in aspic, devilled flies, and jars of pickled zombie eyes. I cracked the eggs into my pot and sneaked in everything I'd got: The sun - dried slug, the dragon sneeze, the marinaded ferret fleas. I added syrup, nuts and spice to make it all smell really nice, discuising I was up to tricks. I baked the cake on gas mark six. In half an hour, it was cooked and very wonderful it looked. I nearly cut myself a slice: The witch said, " That smells nice!" she said, It's far too good to waste on kiddies! let me have a taste." She ate a mouthful. That was that she turned into a ginger cat!
" Fantastic!" Hansel cried,
"we're free!" I said I'd cook them both some tea, "No way - your cooking sucks!" he said We'll go to pizza King instead!"
