How I Became a Master 'Dad Chef,' and How It Changed My Life

Couldn't boil water until I was in my 40s. Then The Wife got busy, & we had 4 kids, & I suddenly had to figure it out.

Started w/ Hamburger Helper (don't judge - really good).

Thought, I can do this. So I got recipes off the 'net and became quite the chef.

Feels great, TBH.

— Bob Hoge (@Bob_Hoge_CA) December 2, 2025

Flashback to the ‘90s, when I was a young dude with a little apartment and a decent-enough job. I ate out almost exclusively and had no idea how to do much in the kitchen besides boil water. I had learned years ago at summer camp to make a delectable little breakfast item called “Egg in a Hole,” but that was pretty much my entire skill set. When I first started dating my eventual wife, I almost blew the deal because she noticed the large stack of empty Domino’s pizza boxes in my apartment, and she was also shocked that the local outlet would answer the phone with, “Hi Bob. The usual?”

Somehow, luckily, I managed not to scare her away, and eventually we walked down the aisle and had four kids. All was good in the world. I worked, she did too, but she managed to mostly be in charge of the hungry mouths that needed to be fed, and frankly, I didn’t give too much thought to it.

Until she got busy. Really busy. She was out saving the world, which I respected, but she also… wasn’t home.

And then suddenly I was faced with the reality… What to do for dinner? I couldn’t just order out or stuff them with frozen dinners and fast food every night. Then I spotted something in the grocery store that gave me chills… Hamburger Helper.

I suddenly felt a flood of emotion. My parents, like seemingly all of them in the '70s, were divorced, and when we would see Dad on the weekends, he faced the same question I did: how the hell do I feed these people? He was a very busy man, but one of my fondest memories of him was watching him hunched over the stove trying to follow the recipe for HH. But he managed, and it was actually good.

This one for the win IMHO pic.twitter.com/KK0ngKyx6k

— Bob Hoge (@Bob_Hoge_CA) December 2, 2025

So all these years later, I did the same. And do you know what? It is tasty as hell. After I’d done it a couple of times, I thought to myself, This is kinda fun. I know it’s not real cooking, but I’m putting something together that doesn’t cost very much money, tastes nice, and makes The Squids (as I called them) happy.

I decided to investigate further.

I started getting recipes off the internet, and I followed them religiously. It was terrifying, to be honest. The stress was off the charts – what if I timed the pasta badly, and the meat was ready first? What if I forgot a key ingredient (which, if I'm being honest, happened more than once)? On more occasions than I’d like to admit, I freaked out and called my wife in a panic – what did I just do?! One time, the recipe said add all this oil to the pesto pasta… But it turned out that guidance was for if you used dried pesto, not the kind that comes from the grocery store with the oil already added. So now I had a pasta with a huge, nasty reservoir of oil on top.

I lost it, panicked. Cooking scared me, intimidated me – it was from another realm which I could not hope to comprehend. This was a disaster of epic proportions! Call 911!

But the wife calmed me down rather quickly. How about you siphon off the oil, she suggested? (She didn’t say, “how about you siphon off the oil, dumba**,” but she could have.) Oh. Right. Duh. Problem solved. Why didn’t I think of that?

Here’s what I learned from that episode (and numerous others). Read the entire recipe before you start. I used to just dive in headfirst and only find out much later that I should have marinated the meat or done some other prep. Know before you go. 

MORE: 'I Remember That Dam Trip!' Why Dad Jokes Are So Good for Your Kids' Health

Life Lessons I Learned From My (Failed) Fishtank

Over time, though, cooking changed me. Once I got over my fear, I liked the soothing feeling of putting something wonderful together and sniffing as the kitchen filled with tantalizing smells. I also loved the mental aspect of it – the rational part of my male brain liked following the recipe exactly, like a science experiment. Don’t give me a dollop, don’t give me a smidge — give me exactly ½ a teaspoon, no more, no less. Over time, I’ve gotten more comfortable experimenting and going with the “feel,” but when I started, it was follow the guidelines to the letter or die.

The biggest benefit, however, is how it brought me closer to my kids (and my wife). I’d like to think they’ll have fond memories of me sweating over a pan and delivering them something awesome instead of more take-out Chinese (not that I’m above that). The sense of pride I feel when I serve my gang something I created is meaningful, and it’s been incredibly empowering to me to enter what I considered a foreign land — the kitchen — and make it my own. It’s been liberating in a way I never would have thought possible.

Perhaps the highlight of my cooking career came when we were on summer vacation with the extended family. I swallowed my fear and offered to cook up a shrimp bake for an entire 30+ person gathering. I was sweating bullets, believe you me, but The Wife™ and I managed to serve up a seafood spectacular. Do not forget the Old Bay seasoning if you want to win. 

My dad was there to enjoy it, and I have rarely felt prouder.  

Now that the kids have flown from the nest, as they should, I send them photos of my latest creations to remind them of why they need to come visit.

This was to die for pic.twitter.com/h3eWMTOnJR

— Bob Hoge (@Bob_Hoge_CA) December 2, 2025

As I discussed in my article about my battles with sinister natural forces who tried to destroy my aquarium, we can’t be good at everything, no matter what the feminist movement tries to tell you. Cooking is a choice, and it’s not for everyone; it takes time and effort. I don’t judge those who aren’t into it; all I can say is that it’s been life-changing for me, and I’m blessed that it came into my life (even if late in the game).

Now I’m off to check on my baked sausage ziti, which I think is going to be a winner.