Hickson moved the beef pot aside, gave Fufu some fruit and small cakes to tide him over, then returned to the kitchen.
Looking at the other semi-prepared items he had bought, Hickson suddenly understood the sales assistant's thoughtful intentions.
He opened the box of pumpkin chicken congee, which contained freshly cut pumpkin chunks and tender chicken.
The cooking method for the congee was simple, but he didn't dare take it lightly. He strictly followed the instructions—rinsing the rice, adding water, then placing in the meat and vegetables along with seasonings, and finally setting the rice cooker.
He opened the refrigerator again and took out the frozen foods he had bought that morning, including a pack of frozen red bean buns shaped like little rabbits.
He took two, thought about it, then grabbed two more.
This time he had learned his lesson—steam a few extra, so if he failed, he'd have backups and wouldn't leave the little one hungry.
He steamed the rabbit buns as well and set a timer according to the instructions.
After doing all this, Hickson suddenly realized he had nothing left to do.
Stewing beef himself was too difficult, and making semi-prepared items was too simple—it left him feeling a bit empty.
He stood in the kitchen, looking around, and suddenly remembered what the sales assistant had said that morning.
Right—steamed egg.
He had bought a small carton of eggs following her advice that morning, and now they finally came in handy.
He searched for another tutorial and followed it: first cracking two eggs, whisking them, then adding water and salt, straining through a sieve, covering with plastic wrap, and steaming.
Before steaming, Hickson thought for a moment, then took out two more eggs and made another bowl, placing both into the steamer.
Same logic—if one batch failed and only half a bowl was edible, he could combine the two bowls and still fill Fufu's stomach.
Half an hour later, Hickson brought lunch back to the table.
This time, the cooking was a complete success. The egg custard was fragrant, smooth, and tender; the meat congee was delicious, with even the rice grains cooked soft and mushy.
Although Hickson couldn't smell anything, just looking at the colors of the dishes, he could tell they were excellent.
Fufu was very satisfied too, sipping the congee with his small spoon, taking a few bites of egg custard, and finally picking up a little rabbit bun, showering Hickson with praise like it cost nothing—enough to make Hickson feel a bit light-headed.
Fufu had a small appetite and could only manage a small bowl of congee. Hickson didn't let him drink more and moved the rest to his own side.
The pumpkin actually carried a faint trace of sunlight, but it was tolerable. He slurped it down. Though he couldn't taste much, he could still feel the warm, soft rice congee flowing into his stomach, bringing a long-missed sense of fullness.
After half a bowl of congee, Hickson licked his lips and took the half bun that Fufu couldn't finish. He couldn't help but think of his childhood, when his mother was still alive and their family would sit together and eat like this.
That scent of home cooking, long faded from his memory, now seemed to have returned to his side.
He used to think eating was a waste of time and only drank Nutrient Solution. It wasn't until now that Hickson realized it wasn't just the little one who needed food—he did too. Warm, real food.
It turned out that cooking and eating weren't just about taking in nutrients—they were also about taking care of your heart.
Hickson looked at Fufu across the table, who was devouring his egg custard, and the corner of his mouth curled up.
Since that was the case, spending a little time each day cooking a proper meal didn't sound bad at all—especially when there was a little one at home with a good appetite who loved to cheer him on.
Hickson felt hungry for the first time in a long while. These tasteless foods suddenly seemed appealing to him.
He finished off the leftover congee, egg custard, and small buns that Fufu hadn't eaten, but still felt unsatisfied. He then brought out the red wine beef pot he had made earlier.
After taking a bite of the beef, Hickson suddenly calmed down.
Hmm, he suddenly felt that his decision to cook personally might be worth reconsidering.
Maybe he should just hire a chef first. It seemed like there were also household robots with cooking functions available these days…
Although he quite enjoyed the process of cooking for the little cub, he always felt that eating this kind of thing every day… was a bit unfair to Fufu.
After finishing dinner, Hickson brought the dishes back to the kitchen, stuffed them into the dishwasher, and tidied up the kitchen items.
After a quick cleanup, he came out and saw Fufu holding his little cup, running toward him.
"Brother, brother! Look, Fufu can cook too! Fufu made something delicious!"
"Oh?"
Hickson raised an eyebrow and crouched down with interest.
He saw the little cub holding up his small toddler goblet with a solemn expression, shoving it right in front of his face.
A strong, sunny aroma hit Hickson right in the face.
He then realized that what Fufu called "cooking" was simply putting strawberries and banana chunks into yogurt, then mashing them into a paste with a small spoon…
Hickson's expression was hard to describe. What was so tasty about this stuff anyway…
But he knew his Fufu had unique tastes, so he forced a smile and said, "Mm! Not bad, impressive."
Seeing her brother smile, Fufu immediately became delighted and scooped up a big spoonful of the fruit yogurt paste: "For brother to eat!"
With that, she shoved it toward Hickson's mouth.
To avoid discouraging Fufu, Hickson closed his eyes and downed it in one gulp.
The sunny aroma was as pungent as he had imagined—like swallowing a big mouthful of wasabi, the sharp flavor shooting straight to the top of his head.
Hickson swallowed hastily, only to find that the thing actually had a slight aftertaste of sweetness.
A faint, subtle sweet-and-sour flavor lingered in his mouth, and he knew this was definitely not an illusion.
…He hadn't completely lost his sense of taste after all?
Hickson savored the residual yogurt flavor in his mouth, somewhat stunned.
Seeing him tasting so seriously, Fufu asked expectantly, "Is it good?"
Hickson snapped back to reality. He ruffled the little cub's head and smiled, "It's good, thank you, Fufu."
"You're welcome!" Fufu swayed her head from side to side, completely floating on air from the praise. "I'll make it for brother every day from now on!"
…That won't be necessary.