"Hey, Dude, how are you at cooking?" I asked.
"Okay," he said cautiously.
"Do you feel up to tackling a ... London Broil?" I asked.
He collapsed in laughter. It seems that he cracks up like this because he's rather addicted to the play The Odd Couple.
When he recovered, "No, I'm not up to playing Felix Unger for a day," he said.
So I took the frozen meat, shaved off slices, and prepared it with a truncated version of my father's special sauce (soy sauce, rice vinegar, garlic powder, onion powder, and a little oil) and fried it up and smoked up the whole house and it was delicious.
Nephew didn't eat any. He didn't want any.
Dude snarfed his portion. Sis had gotten some dinner at work and wasn't hungry, but ate the rest the next day, after Chick had snagged some as well.
I can cook?