Jerry had to dig deep in drawers for that small notebook where his elderly mother kept the family’s recipes. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, dessert— it was all written down in messy cursive. He tried asking his mother, but she mostly got distracted halfway through the cooking.

Jerry is warm to the touch. Spending a few hours in the kitchen does that to a person. Prepping, cooking, singing, and cleaning isn’t easy, but he isn’t bothered. He’s done this multiple times, and, he’s gotten good at it.

The table is covered with dishes and appetizers. He’s standing opposite from you across the table with a shining smile that’s stolen the hearts of Beaverton— he’s proud. His white and blue-striped apron is has flour smeared on the sides with a few smudges on his cheeks.

“Eat fast before all my hard work goes colds,” he says as he carefully removes the apron.