Présentation de l'éditeur
Find out what Hank cooks up in the seventh book of the series!
Hank is nothing like his cousin Judith Ann. When she comes to stay with the Zipzer family while taking part in a junior chef competition, she gives off an air of perfection. She’s an excellent cook, and doesn’t let Hank forget it, either. But when Hank enters the competition, too, he finds out that he and Judith Ann have more in common than he thinks—and it’s not cooking!
Extrait
CHAPTER ONE
“Oh boy! Oh boy! Oh boy!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. “The pizza’s here!”
“How do you know?” my best friend Frankie Townsend asked.
“I didn’t hear the doorbell ring.”
“My nose knows,” I told him. “I can sniff out pepperoni a mile away.”
It was Friday pizza night. Frankie and my other best friend, Ashley Wong, and I were sitting in my living room playing this card game we made up called Florida Coconuts. I’d explain the rules to you, but they don’t make any sense, even to us. It involves dropping a deck of cards on the loser’s head, instead of a real coconut, which would leave a lump.
I got up and ran to the front door. Our dog, Cheerio, followed me. He can sniff out pepperoni a mile away, too. I taught him that. My mom was there balancing a huge pizza box in her hands. My younger sister, Emily, was next to her, holding a paper bag that smelled like Italian salad and garlic rolls. Standing next to her was a tall girl wearing a white chef’s hat.
“Mom, I’ve never been so glad to see you in my whole life!”
I said. “Emily, I’m not that happy to see you. And you with the crazy hat, I have no idea who
you are.”
“Hank,” my mom said, coming into our apartment. “This is your cousin Judith Ann. Remember,
I told you she was coming in from Chicago to spend the weekend with us. We’re hosting her while her parents are away at a business conference.”
“Whoops,” I answered. “That must have slipped right through my brain and out my left ear. Or maybe it was my right ear. But who cares when there’s pizza involved?”
I reached out and took the box from my mom’s hands and headed for the dining-room table.
My dad brought plates and a big roll of paper towels from the kitchen. It was going to be our
usual Friday pizza feast and
movie night.
“Dig in, Judith Ann,” I called
to her. “Take off your crazy hat and grab a slice while it’s hot.”
Judith Ann walked over to the dining-room table and stared at
our pizza.
“No thanks,” she said. “I don’t eat that type of pizza.”
“Oh,” my dad said. “Are you allergic to wheat?”
“No,” Judith Ann said. “But I only like pizza I make myself, with goat cheese and artichokes.”
“Judith Ann is quite an excellent cook,” my mom explained. “In fact, in case you have forgotten,” she said, looking straight at me, “the reason she’s spending the weekend with us is that she’s competing in the Junior Chef Cook-Off.”
“Oh, that explains the crazy hat,” I said. “But I’ve got to tell you, Judy, you’re missing out on one delicious pizza here. We ordered triple cheese with pepperoni.”
“No one calls me Judy,” she said without cracking a smile.
“My full name is Judith Ann.
Just like your full name is Henry—which is what I’m going to call you.”
“You can do that,” I said with my mouth full. “But I won’t answer.”
Ashley and Frankie burst out laughing, shooting some pretty powerful garlic breath into the air.
“He’s been ‘Hank’ since we were in preschool,” Frankie told her.
“He’s definitely not a ‘Henry’ type,” Ashley added. “Henrys have gray hair and are math teachers.”
“Yeah.” I laughed. “I can’t even subtract, so you better stick with Hank. Tell me, Judy . . . I mean Judith . . . I mean Judith Ann. What’s your favorite thing to cook, aside from weird pizza?”
“Well, for the Junior Chef Cook-Off this weekend, I’ll be preparing my special vegetarian meatballs.”
“Wait a minute.” I stopped eating and scratched my head. “What makes it a meatball if there’
