Hey, Olaf, are you busy?
No, why?
It's Kristoff's birthday today.
WHAT? WHY DIDN'T HE TELL ME?
He doesn't like to make a big deal, but I wanted to surprise him with dinner.
OH! I love cooking!
Great! Maybe you can help me! Are you at the apartment?
On my way home now!
Awesome! See you soon!
"Hi, Anna!" Olaf chirped as he opened the door to the apartment he shared with Kristoff.
"Thank you for letting me in, Olaf," she said, coming in with a bag of groceries. "Where's the kitchen?"
"You haven't been here before?" Olaf asked innocently.
Anna bit her lip. "Um, no."
"Oh, okay. Somehow I thought… Um, nevermind."
"Anyway…" Anna said, not even pretending she wasn't changing the subject. She noticed the kitchen and walked in and set down the bag of groceries. "It's a lot cleaner than I imagined."
"I've been helping out," Olaf offered. "Kristoff works long hours, you know, and my class schedule is really light this semester, so I'm helping out a lot."
"Aw, that's nice," Anna smiled, pulling out some of the grocery items.
"What are you planning to make?" Olaf asked, looking closely.
"Honestly, I wasn't sure. I got some things that were on sale and looked good, and I figured I'd look up recipes on my phone when I got here."
"You can do that?"
"Huh?" Anna paused and looked at Olaf.
"You can look up recipes on your phone?"
"Uh, yeah, you just search for, like, recipes with ground beef, stuff like that."
"How do you know if it's any good?"
"They're reviewed, though I don't think I trust the reviews. But, anyhow, Olaf, if you have any suggestions, you know what you have on hand here."
"Oh! Like in the fridge?" Olaf practically jumped up.
"Yes. I should have thought of asking while I was still at the store. THat would have made sense."
"We have a lot of leftovers," Olaf observed as he stuck his head in the fridge.
"What kind of leftovers?" Anna asked.
"Why?" Olaf asked.
"I might be able to use them," Anna suggested.
"Um, Anna, I hate to tell you this, but Kristoff eats directly from the take-out containers."
Anna scrunched her nose. "Well, you didn't tell me it was take-out leftovers. I thought you meant, like, I don't know, gravy or pasta sauce or something."
"Ohhhh. No, there's nothing like that."
"Hey, let me have a look," Anna said.
She looked. There were condiments, and a bag of baby carrots. Plus the leftover take-out that Olaf had mentioned.
"So, Olaf, what do you like to cook?"
"I've always wanted to try making a casserole," he said confidently.
"But, what do you make a lot of? I think Kristoff's shift ends in an hour."
"I haven't exactly started cooking yet," Olaf admitted.
"Wait, what?"
"But, come on, let's look up a recipe!"
"Right," Anna said, practically holding her breath as she typed in the ingredients she'd bought.
"Oh! That one looks good!" Olaf exclaimed as she was scrolling through the results.
"It also takes three hours."
"Oh," Olaf sighed.
Anna scrolled through what seemed like pages of results.
"What about that one?" Olaf asked.
"Do you have basil?"
Olaf ran over to the cupboard. "Which one is basil?"
"Let's skip that one," Anna declared. "Right, this looks good. It says it just takes a half hour, and we have all the ingredients."
"Perfect! Okay, Anna, tell me what to do."
"Um, have you washed your hands?" she asked him.
"Good idea, I'll do that!"
Olaf ran to a door connected to the kitchen.
"Wait," Anna said, "is that the bathroom?"
"Yeah," Olaf called from the bathroom. "Only way here is through the kitchen. Funny, huh?"
"A little awkward, but, um, I guess it's an older house, isn't it?"
"So," Olaf said as he came back. "What can I do next?"
"You should probably set the oven. Each one's a bit different. Three fifty."
Olaf stared at the dials on the back of the stove. "Which one turns on the oven?"
"Uhhh…" Anna hemmed, looking at the dials. "Oh, wow, this is an old oven!"
"Is it?"
"Yeah, it's, like, antique, seriously."
Anna tried to turn on one of the burners, and nothing happened.
"Um, Olaf?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you know if the pilot light is on?"
"What's a pilot light?"
Anna looked at the time. "Hey, Olaf?"
"Yeah, Anna?"
"What's Kristoff's favorite take-out place?"
Olaf walked over to the fridge and grabbed one of the menus. "He gets something different from this place every week. I've had a bit, too, it's great."
"Perfect!" Anna said, already dialing the number.
