It was a bright and breezy morning when Lala woke up to the sound of birds chirping and the gentle aroma of jasmine drifting through the window. The sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting golden streaks across the tidy kitchen. Today was no ordinary day—CEO Kien had promised to take Lala and Bon out for a picnic lunch, but first, he had to go to the market.
As Kien grabbed his shopping bag and car keys, he smiled warmly at Lala. “Just a quick trip to the market, Lala. I’ll get your favorite fruits and veggies. Don’t touch anything too hot while I’m away, alright?” he said, ruffling her hair.
Lala nodded obediently. “Okay, Kien. I’ll wait patiently.”
But as the door closed and his footsteps faded, her curious eyes shifted to the kitchen. She tapped her chin thoughtfully. Waiting didn’t mean sitting idle, did it? Her eyes lit up. Maybe she could help! After all, she had watched Kien cook many times before. And she did love food.
Wearing her tiny apron, Lala trotted to the kitchen and stood on a stool to reach the counter. “Let’s see,” she whispered to herself. “I can prepare something nice for when Kien gets back! He’ll be so surprised!”
She opened the fridge and scanned its contents. There were some eggs, milk, butter, and leftover rice from last night. Her eyes landed on the eggs and she giggled, “Omelet time!”
Cracking the eggs proved to be a slippery task. One egg landed half in the bowl and half on the counter. “Oopsie!” Lala giggled, wiping it up quickly with a paper towel. She whisked the eggs, added a little milk (she remembered Kien always did that), and then began chopping some leftover veggies with a small plastic knife.
Once everything was mixed, she poured the mixture into a pan and carefully placed it on the stove—set to low heat, just as she had seen Kien do. The aroma filled the room within minutes. Lala beamed proudly as the omelet sizzled. Her confidence grew.
Next, she opened the rice cooker and scooped out a bowl of rice. “I can make fried rice, too!” she chirped. She found a few frozen peas and corn in the freezer, then tossed them into the rice with a tiny dash of soy sauce. Stirring with both hands, she hummed a happy tune.
Meanwhile, the omelet was almost ready. Lala carefully flipped it—though a piece flopped out of the pan, landing on the stove with a hiss. She gasped, picked it up with tongs, and popped it into a small plate. “Taste test,” she whispered, nibbling the corner. “Mmm! Not bad!”
Her next idea was to prepare a little dessert. She spotted bananas in the fruit bowl and decided to make a banana-honey mash. She sliced them up into a bowl and drizzled a little honey on top. Easy and sweet!
Suddenly, she heard a sound at the front door.
“Back already?” she whispered, peeking through the hallway.
Nope. Just the wind pushing a branch against the window.
Lala sighed in relief and returned to the kitchen to clean up. The counter was a bit messy, and there were crumbs and egg shells scattered here and there. She wiped everything down and even mopped up the floor where a bit of rice had fallen.
Satisfied, she set the table with care: one plate of vegetable omelet, one bowl of colorful fried rice, and the banana mash in a little glass cup. She even added a flower from the garden into a small jar and placed it in the center.
Then she sat and waited.
Finally, the door creaked open. CEO Kien entered, arms full of fresh produce and snacks.
“Lala! I’m back! I got your favorite apples and—” he paused mid-sentence, sniffing the air.
“Wait… is that… did you cook something?”
Lala jumped up and ran to him, her face glowing. “Surprise, Kien! I made breakfast while waiting! Omelet, rice, and banana mash!”
Kien looked stunned, then amused. “You did all this… by yourself?”
She nodded proudly. “I remembered how you did it. I was very careful!”
He set the bags down and walked over to the table. He looked at the food and smiled wider than ever. “Well, well, Chef Lala! You’ve outdone yourself.”
He took a bite of the omelet and his eyes widened. “Hey… this is actually good!”
Lala giggled with pride.
Hethen tried the fried rice and gave her a thumbs-up. “Delicious. The seasoning is just right!”
“And this banana mash?” he scooped up a spoonful and nodded in approval. “Sweet and simple—perfect!”
Then, he looked at her with kind eyes. “Lala, I’m really proud of you. You didn’t just wait—you used your time to create something wonderful. But tell me… did you remember all the kitchen rules? Low heat? No sharp knives?”
She raised her hand like a scout. “Yes! I only used the plastic knife, low flame, and I stood on the stool properly!”
He chuckled. “Good girl. You’re becoming more and more independent, huh?”
Lala blushed a little, but her heart soared. There was nothing better than making someone happy with her food.
Kien sat down with her, and they enjoyed the meal together. As they ate, he shared stories about the market and how he had to bargain for the last bunch of lychees. Lala laughed and told him how the egg almost escaped the pan and how rice tried to jump out of the bowl.
After the meal, Kien patted his belly. “I think we can skip lunch. You’ve already made a feast!”
Lala smiled and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Next time, maybe I can cook dinner too!”
He grinned, “Well, if you keep this up, you might just open your own little restaurant one day.”
And from that moment, the idea of “Chef Lala’s Kitchen” was born—right there in their little home, on a bright morning full of surprises and heartwarming smells.
