Food & Drink

Pops in the pantry

People cook to nourish, for fun and to flex their creativity. But they also cook to impress others: love interests and foodie friends, mothers-in-law, family-court proxies.

OK, that last group isn’t typically on the short list. But they figure prominently in an offbeat new cookbook, “The Gentleman’s Guide To Cooking Through a Child Custody Battle.”

Written by a twice-divorced father of six, E.B. Gunn, the book is aimed at newly single dads who are clueless in the kitchen and suddenly have to learn to put together a respectable meal for their kids.

Gunn’s message to those fathers is that even if the kitchen is as foreign to them as a lunar module, they need to step up, and quickly, because they’re facing a custody battle — and whether they realize it or not, their skill with a skillet is going to play a role.

That’s because the dad’s ability — or lack of ability — to put a decent dinner on the table will not go unnoticed by the court-appointed guardian charged with assessing a family’s situation and making recommendations to the custody judge.

“They’re watching how good a parent you are, and cooking is an area that guys tend not to be strong in,” says Gunn, a one-time New Yorker who now splits his time between northwestern Connecticut and the Charleston, SC, area.

What’s more, for those who can achieve competence or even learn to shine at the stove, being able to cook can offer a sweet reward for a newly separated dad: a chance to one-up his former wife.

“I refer to it as out-cooking the ex,” says Gunn, whose slim, self-published volume reads as part basic cooking primer and part divorced-dad survival guide, with a dash of “The Art of War.”

“In a custody fight, there are theaters of war,” says Gunn. “There’s the homework theater, the watch-too-much-TV theater, the medical theater [when someone gets sick], and then there’s the kitchen theater. If the food’s better at Dad’s house, and it’s fun because he includes us while Mom is too busy and wants to do takeout, that’s an area where you can achieve an advantage.”

If Gunn writes like a battle strategist, that may be because in a sense he is one: a former journalist and Wall Streeter, he’s now a political consultant who works on local campaigns. (“A custody battle is very much like a political campaign,” he notes. “You have to go into it with a strategy and stick to it. And if you make a mistake, it’s well known to those who are judging you, and it affects the outcome immediately.”)

He’s got two college-age and two high school-age kids from his first marriage, and a 6- and an 8-year-old from his second. He shares custody (and home-schooling of) the latter, and says there’s “absolutely no question” that his ability to cook helped in custody negotiations.

While he knew how to cook before his divorces, Gunn writes for those who don’t know a colander from a corkscrew, and need to learn fast. Gunn pictures a guy who’s just moved into a rental and has his kids coming to spend the weekend in a matter of days.

The first challenge is also the hardest: “getting the right stuff in the house.” To that end, Gunn offers a list of “survival gear” that includes basic items such as mixing bowls, a saucepan and a blender.

It also includes less-obvious items, such as a wide-screen TV to wire up in the kitchen. “Keep it fun” is one of Gunn’s key points of advice, not only to reduce your own drudgery but because it lines up with the aim of making your house a place the kids want to be (and, by extension, where they’re going to tell the court guardian they want to be).

As might be expected, when it comes to recipes, Gunn is no Alain Ducasse. He offers rundowns on making popcorn, grilled cheese sandwiches and deviled eggs. More advanced projects include chili, guacamole and one-minute smoothies. (An amateur hunter, Gunn also includes a recipe for “crockpot dove,” which will be of limited use to city dads — though, he notes, frozen dove works fine.)

There’s a section on school snacks (teachers notice what you send, notes Gunn, and “will be funneling that information to the guardian”) and on whipping up a quick holiday feast when your ex jets off with her new boyfriend at the last minute. Plus, there are some basic grown-up recipes (coq au vin, steak au poivre) to prepare for a new girlfriend.

And there’s advice that goes beyond food: a list of first-aid supplies to have around, pointers on telling bedtime stories. If that sounds like parenting for dummies, that’s the point, says Gunn, who notes that some divorced dads need the basics, and have nowhere to get them.

Asked for his go-to recipes, he cites “personalized pancakes,” on which the cook imprints kids’ initials using a baggie rigged up as a “poor man’s pastry bag,” They’re fun, the initials make the kids feel special — and if they have a sleepover guest, you score points by “displaying that you’re sharp enough to have learned the kid’s name.”

As his recipes suggest, Gunn’s strategy doesn’t involve impressing the courts with steamed brown rice or a farm-to-table diet.

“It isn’t a health-food book. It’s about making a home that the kids want to come to,” he says. “After the custody fight is over, you can move on to the next cookbook and start feeding them organic kale.”

Single-dad cooking: the rules

Some advice for novice divorced-dad chefs from E.B. Gunn, author of “The Gentleman’s Guide To Cooking Through a Child Custody Battle”:

* Don’t panic: This stuff isn’t rocket science. If you can follow directions, you’ll do fine. In fact, “you may be surprised at how well it goes.”

* Make it fun: Install a TV in the kitchen, and “get your favorite dancing music” in there as well.

* Get a uniform: Could be a double-breasted chef’s coat and a toque, or a “silly apron” and a baseball cap. “But get something that’s you, that says you’re cooking, and that you’re having fun.”

* Involve the kids: Aim for dishes “that they want to be a part of preparing” and that are fun to eat. And while you’re at it, get junior-sized uniforms for your sous-chefs. — C.E.