        Dale was not a cook.  He did well enough—he knew his way around the kitchen—and if it came in a box with instructions printed on the side, he usually managed to make something palatable.  He rarely made any desserts, though; his ignorance of the intricacies of baked goods was profound.  Frozen dough came out of the oven with a rubbery consistency, and his one and only attempt at brownies resembled hardtack.  To be fair, he was usually missing one or more vital ingredients, and his attempts at creative substitutions usually fell far short of the mark.