โ Koala Moon: Kids Bedtime Stories & Sleep Stories for Kids Podcast
Koala Moon: Kids Bedtime Stories & Sleep Stories for Kids Podcast
Hugo the Frog Chef's Big Buffet ๐ธ๐ Rewind Bedtime Story For Kids
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- [00:10]
Narrator
Hello and welcome back to Koala Moon, a podcast of original children's bedtime stories and meditations designed to make bedtime a dream. In tonight's story, we rejoin our froggy friend Pickle at his newly opened Home Sweet Home Hotel in a tranquil glade in Sleepy Forest. I wonder if you remember his opening day when he was inundated with wonderful guests needing all sorts of special attention. Go back and listen to it if you had the chance. It was quite an epic opening weekend. Tonight, Pickle finds more ways to make his guests feel cosy and comfy. This time he's had the great idea of opening a restaurant, but sadly he can barely cook. I wonder how he'll get round this dilemma. Thankfully he has a very talented chef friend he can call on to help him out. Let's see what delicious fun they cook up together. Before we begin, a quick message for the grown ups. If you'd like to support our podcast, enjoy ad free listening, unlock four bonus stories per month and much, much more, you can join Koko Club. Subscribe in just two taps via the link in the show notes, but now here's a quick word from our sponsors before we settle in for tonight's sleepy story. Here's something for the grown ups and for our little dreamers who love big adventures with Groupon. It's easier than ever to make magical memories together. If your little one has ever wished they could leap into a Koala Moon adventure, like taking a ballet class with Koko and Kira or riding the monorail with Hector and Sunny, Groupon might just have the real world version waiting for you. From trampoline parks and pottery classes to petting zoos and planetarium visits, Groupon helps families discover amazing activities, all at prices that make it easier to say yes to fun. So when the sun comes up and those curious feet are ready to explore, just open the Groupon app and see what surprises are nearby. I've taken a peek already and I'm super excited about what's coming up this summer. For a limited time only and exclusively for our Koala Moon listeners, you can use code MOON30 to get 30% off when checking out at Groupon before May 31st. That's code MOON30 for real life fun at fairytale prices. Groupon Adventure is just around the corner.
- [02:39]
Commercial Voice
It is estimated that over 4 million people have been abducted by alien lifeforms, but only one of them asked for it.
- [02:48]
Kelly
This is Elio of Earth. If any aliens are listening, come and.
- [02:51]
Commercial Voice
Get me from Disney and Pixar are.
- [02:53]
Kelly
Yes, it's really happening.
- [02:54]
Commercial Voice
He'll go where no one has gone before.
- [02:57]
Narrator
Welcome to the community Verse this is.
- [02:59]
Kelly
The most beautiful place I've ever seen. This is the bathroom.
- [03:05]
Commercial Voice
Disney and Pixar's Elio rated PG. Parental guidance.
- [03:08]
Kelly
Suggested only in theaters June 20 hey sleepyheads. I'm Kelly, the host of Koala Shine, the perfect daytime adventure show for long car journeys, school runs and lazy Sunday mornings. I'm popping up here on Koala Moon because I've heard you want more Koala Kid stories, and I'm here to deliver. Beep beep. Special delivery. Koala Shine is a tiny bit different from Koalamoon as it's designed for daytime listening. So after a great night's sleep with a story from Abby, you can have a big old stretch and tune into Koala Shine. Join in your favorite characters on crazy adventures around the world with new episodes every Friday. We'll follow Hector and Sunny on a daytime safari, explore the big city with Munchie the Raccoon, and visit the circus with Super Soul. You'll also hear cool facts, jokes and learn about the world we live in. Plus, there's a chance for your voices to be featured on the podcast, too. Koalashine offers mindful, fun entertainment on the move designed to spark curiosity. Search Koalashine now on your favorite podcast platform and be sure to hit follow so that finding your next adventure is easy peasy lemon squeezy. Hope to see you there, Koala Shine.
- [04:20]
Narrator
Settle back into your bed. Imagine that you are in the comfiest hotel room suite ever. The bed is as soft as clouds and the pillow is cool and billowy under your head. The duvet is as light as a feather and the room smells as sweet as blueberries and vanilla. It's just the most perfect spot for sleeping and it's all yours. Relax and breathe in and out gently. Snuggle down and get really cozy and sigh if you need. This is Hugo the Frog Chef's Big Buffet By Luke Prendergast it had been two months since the grand opening of the Home Sweet Home Hotel, and Pickle the Frog, who was the hotel's founder, owner, receptionist, concierge and general manager, thought the whole thing was going rather well. If he might say so himself, it was an incredibly demanding job. Pickle was up at the crack of dawn to clean up the hotel, welcome guests to Sleepy Forest, man the desk, change beds, arrange cushions, tend to needs, and oversee any occasional hiccups in the plumbing like a burst pipe or a clogged up sink but at night he slept soundly, knowing that he was running a very tight ship. And what's more, the guests seemed very happy indeed. When Pickle had first had the thought of opening a hotel, the idea was to create a space where guests would feel they had a home away from home. That was the reason for the name, the Home Sweet Home Hotel. Pickle prided himself on being able to meet any requirements a guest had in order to make sure they felt right at home. So far, he'd found a room long enough to accommodate the extremely long neck of a giraffe called Twiggy. He'd found an underground cavern room just perfect for Cinders the Dragon and had happily replaced a heart shaped cushion which had caught light when she'd had an accidental sneeze. And he'd even replaced enlisted his good friend Buck the Beaver to help make a wooden clambering castle for the young kittens of the Whiskerton family. Yup, he was really, really happy with all the hard work he'd put into the Home Sweet Home Hotel. It had really paid off. There was nothing, he was sure, that his guests could want that the hotel didn't provide. Nothing at all. Until, that is, came one afternoon when Pickle was saying goodbye to one of his favourite guests, a very well dressed pig named Truffles. Truffles stayed at the Home Sweet Home Hotel regularly. He was often passing through sleepy forest on his route as a traveling salesman, selling waistcoats and top hats and pocket watches and other things like that. And he always had the most complimentary things to say about the hotel. A wonderful stay as ever, Pickle, Truffles said on the afternoon in question. Such a comfy bed, such a beautiful view, such a glorious night's sleep. I really must say, this hotel is almost perfection itself. The only other thing I wish you had here is a restaurant. You know, somewhere to have a nice bite to eat in the evening once you get home from work. Oh, said Pickle, I'd never thought of that. Well, Truffles told him with a kindly smile, nowhere can have everything. But as Pickle went about the rest of his day, what Truffles had said stayed with him. A restaurant at the Home Sweet Home Hotel. What an idea. Pickle was a little embarrassed that he'd never had the idea himself before. It certainly would make the guests happy to have somewhere to fill their bellies. And Pickle couldn't deny it. There was a large part of him that wanted to rise to the challenge. Nowhere can have everything, huh? Well, if there was anywhere that could. Pickle thought it was the Home Sweet Home Hotel. The only problem was who would run the restaurant. Pickle had plenty of talents, but unfortunately, cooking was not one of them. The last time he tried to make dinner for a group of his friends, the pie he'd made managed to be both undercooked in the middle and burnt on the outside. He had no idea how he'd done that. No, running a restaurant was simply not in Pickle's skill set. He'd need help on that front, but he could not for the life of him think of someone who could help him with a thing like that. The following day, Pickle was sat outside the hotel chatting with Coco and Kira. Koko and Kira often liked to come to the Home Sweet Home Hotel to have a swim in the pool and float about on all of the inflatables. And today, Pickle was telling them what Truffles had said to him about the idea of opening a restaurant in the hotel. What an amazing idea, Pickle. They cried, splishing and splashing about to show their enthusiasm. The Home Sweet Home Restaurant. That sounds brilliant. It did sound brilliant, Pickle agreed. But he said he didn't think it would be able to happen because he couldn't think of anyone who would be able to run a restaurant. He certainly couldn't. At that, Coco stopped his splashing and frowned. Wait, he said. What about your friend the chef? Can't he do it? Pickle scratched his head. My friend the chef? He asked. Who are you talking about? Oh, you know, said Coco. Hugo. Hugo the Toad? Why, of course. Hugo the Toad. How could Pickle not have thought of him? He and Hugo had grown up together at the edge of a particularly boggy pond in Sleepy Forest, the perfect home for frogs and toads. They were the closest of friends. They went to Sleepy Forest Elementary School together, and when they'd finished their final year there, Hugo had become a chef and started travelling the world, working in kitchens and learning everything there was to know about the art of cooking. Pickle could almost taste the memory of Hugo's signature dish, the swamp mud pie. Yes. Just the thought of it had him salivating. Yummity, yum, yum. What a smart thought, Coco, Pickle said. And without wasting a further moment, he hurried back inside the hotel to the front desk and picked up the phone. After just a couple of rings, Pickle heard the rabbit croak of his old friend. Bonjour, Hugo, old pal. Pickle said. It's me, Pickle, and I've got a proposition for You. Hugo, of course, said yes. For many years now, he'd been travelling the globe. He'd learnt how to make pastries in Paris, he'd discovered the secrets of curries in India. He'd thrown pizza in Italy and cooked up steaming goulashes in Hungary. In Morocco, he'd perfected the spicy tagine In Japan, he'd rolled seaweed into little parcels of sushi. And in the highest peaks of the Himalayas, he'd even learnt how to prepare the nectar of the rare and mythical home honey beetle. Yes, he'd learnt it all. And he had been thinking for quite some time that he'd rather like to return to the place he'd grown up in the cosy nest of Sleepy Forest. And what better reason to come back than to help his oldest friend Pickle, open up the Home Sweet Home restaurant where Hugo could put all his cooking skills to the test. So Hugo the Toad returned to Sleepy Forest, clapped his friend on the back and got to work. They built a kitchen and fitted it with the best equipment they could find. A huge fridge, a big stove, lots of pots and pans. They got tables and chairs and checkered tablecloths and vases full of flowers. They strung up fairy lights and even got a piano in case anyone wanted to play some tunes. Both the guests in the Home Sweet Home Hotel and the inhabitants of Sleepy Forest watched the proceedings with a growing excitement. The hotel had been such a hit in Sleepy Forest, its grand opening had been the talk of the town. And now Pickle and Hugo were treating them to yet another grand opening, yet another place to dazzle and delight. The invitations went out. We welcome you to join us at the Home Sweet Home Restaurant for the opening night feast. All dietary requirements celebrated. Whatever meal is your stomach's delight, we're sure to make it on the night. Bon appetit, Hugo and Pickle. And when the evening arrived and they opened the front doors, the guests streamed into their new restaurant. And the whole place was filled with the hubbub of merry conversation and rumbling tums. The guests are all seated, Pickle said to Hugo, rubbing his hands together. It's about to begin. How are you feeling, old pal? Hugo was stood in the middle of his kitchen. He had his white apron on and his white chef's hat. In one hand he held a spatula, in the other he clutched a wooden spoon. He was ready, but he was also a little nervous. I hope we can pull this off, Pickle, he said. No menu and making each and every guest what they want, exactly how they want It Im beginning to wonder if we weren't a little m ambitious. Pickle stepped forward and placed a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder. Hugo, he said, I don't know anyone in the whole world who's a more talented, more experienced chef than you. You've travelled everywhere. You've learnt it all. If there's anyone who can pull this off, you can pull it off. And you will. I know it. Hugo felt his heart beat a little more powerfully in his chest, and it was a few moments before he realised that it was the sound of his returning confidence pounding its drumbeat on his ribcage. Yes, he could do this. Thanks, Pickle, he said. Ok, let's do this. Pickle left the kitchen and Hugo waited for the first of the evening's orders to come through. He didn't have to wait long. Soon enough, Pickle swept back into the kitchen, his notebook and pen in one hand. All right then, Hugo, he said. Our first guest has made his order. Its Wilbur the warthog, and he's pretty hungry tonight. In fact, he's so hungry he said he'd like a pie. A pie? Said Hugo with a feeling of relief. I can make a pie. I can make all sorts of pies. What kind of pie does our friend Wilbur want? Well, that's just the thing, Pickle said. He's a warthog, so he'd like a pie with a warthog's favourite kind of food in it. Hugo scratched his head. And what's a warthog's favourite food? He asked. Why? Said Pickle. Everything you find in the undergrowth, of course, where warthogs are wont to poke around with their snouts. Wilbur would like a pie filled with mushrooms and mosses and morsels of lichen. Morsels of lichen? Hugo replied, feeling a little bemused. Pickle smiled. Yes, he said. Morsels of lichen. Have you got any of those? Well, we don't have any lichen in here, Hugo conceded. But. And here he thrust a finger in the air. I know just what to do. Leave it with me. Undergrowth pie it is. Pickle hurried back out into the restaurant while Hugo got to work. First he rolled out the pastry, which was essential for a pie, making sure it was big and flat. And even then he he pressed the pastry into a tin and cut a segment of it, which would eventually be placed on top of the pie, sealing the contents in. Then he put a little pot of gravy to bubble on the stove, and while he was waiting for that to heat up. He went outside into the forest. Mushrooms and mosses and morsels of lichen, he said to himself. Where am I going to find those? And realising that there was nothing else for it, Hugo went over to a big fallen tree branch and lifted it up. Underneath he found everything he wanted. Mottled green mosses, rivers of lichen and gold and red. And yes, there, a colony of perfect, delicious looking mushrooms. Hugo, who was an experienced chef, after all, knew the difference between good mushrooms and bad mushrooms, for many of them could make you sick, and he knew this variety were perfectly safe to eat. So he took up handfuls of the undergrowth, carried them back into the kitchen and put them right into the pie pastry. He poured the gravy over it and in it went into the oven. It wouldn't take too long to cook, he didn't imagine. Just then Pickle came swinging back into the kitchen. Have we got our second order in? Hugo asked him. We certainly have, said Pickle, turning the page of his notebook and preparing to read from it. This is for Mademoiselle Nibbles. Aha. Hugo nodded and then gave a little gulp. Mademoiselle Nibbles was a dormouse who had lived on the far side of Sleepy Forest for a very long time, and over the years she had gathered quite the reputation for being a particularly picky and pernickety little dormouse. Hugo wondered what it was she would want for her dinner. Mademoiselle Nibbles, Pickle said, has said that since she is, after all, a dormouse, she'll be wanting cheese tonight. But he added, she says she does not want any old cheese. I might have guessed, muttered Hugo. Instead, Pickle went on, she's given us a list of cheeses which. But Pickle trailed off, because just at that moment the kitchen door swung open and who should walk in but Mademoiselle Nibbles herself. She had a bright purple feather boa around her neck and a hat with a matching purple feather sprouting out of it, balanced on top of her head. Hello there, she said in her clipped and careful voice. It is I, Mademoiselle Nibbles. I thought I'd come in and tell you what I'd like for dinner myself, just to ensure that there aren't any mistakes. Hugo and Pickle exchanged a small grin when she said this. Yes, Mademoiselle, Hugo said, bowing politely to her. What can I make for you on this fine evening? Well, Monsieur Hugo, the dormouse said, of course this evening I will be having cheese. I would like A whole selection. I do hope you have the ones that I like. I hope so, too, Mademoiselle Hugo said. I would like cheddar. Hugo nodded. And Camembert. Hugo nodded again. And Rock Fort And Gouda and Brie and Jersey Blue. Oh. Mademoiselle raised an eyebrow in surprise. You have all those cheeses? Hugo nodded. We do, mademoiselle. Well, then, said Mademoiselle Nibbles, how about and this is a very rare cheese, so I wouldn't be surprised at all if you didn't have it. How about mimolette? Hugo gave Mamazel Nibbles his most dazzling smile, and he nodded. Oh, truly, Mademoiselle Nibbles said. You have mimolette? We certainly do, hugo said. Mademoiselle Nibbles cast her eyes around the room with an expression of pleasant surprise. Then she turned on her heel and in a flurry of purple feathers, disappeared back into the restaurant. Phew. Whispered Hugo. Pickle gave him a grin. And then from the direction of the oven, there came a loud ping. Ah, Said Hugo. That will be Wilbur, the warthog's Undergrowth Pie. He opened the oven door, and out of it he poured a hot, steaming pie, the pastry on top cooked to a perfect golden crisp. He handed the pie to Pickle, who conveyed it out into the restaurant. Once he was gone, Hugo got to work on Mademoiselle Nibble's order, slicing wedges of cheese in perfect symmetry and garnishing the plate with plump little grapes, mounds of pickle, and a good piece of torn baguette. When he was done, he took a deep breath. Wow, Hugo thought to himself. It was nice to have a moment to relax. But it was only a moment later that Pickle returned. He told Hugo that Wilbur looked very pleased indeed with his piece, and when he'd taken his first bite, his eyes had gone wide with joy and he'd licked his lips and said it was one of the best pies he'd ever tasted. And now Pickle said, we have our final order of the night. We've got a family of ostriches in, and they're all desperate for banoffee pie. Banoffee pie. Hugo exclaimed. That's wonderful. I make a killer banoffee pie, if I may say so myself. And he threw open the doors on a set of cupboards and began rooting around inside them for some ingredients. Pickle gave a little cough. There's only one catch, he said. Oh. Hugo paused. What's that, then? Well, said Pickle, each member of the rumplefeather family has a particular element of the banoffee that they like the most. And Pickle went on to explain that the mother of the family, Mrs. Rumplefeather, liked the crumbly biscuit base the best, and she'd like more of that layer in her banoffee pie, please. Her husband, Mr. Rumplefeather, said that he was keeping an eye on his health at the moment, and so he'd like his banoffee pie to be heavy on the banana, light on the offy. And last of all, young Master Rumplefeather liked the biscuit base and the banana just fine. But his absolute favourite part of the banoffee pie was a thick and delicious toffee sauce. So could he have extra of that, please? Hugo listened closely, making note of all of the Rumplefeather family's requirements in his head. When Pickle had finished speaking, Hugo gave a brief nod. And is that all? He asked. Yes, said Pickle. That's it. Oh, and they all like plenty of whipped cream. And with that, Pickle took up Mademoiselle Nibble's plate of cheese and disappeared out of the kitchen. In the meantime, Hugo got back to work. He was feeling a little tired now. It had been a long evening of cooking and he could feel his arms and legs moving more slowly, each thought taking that little bit longer to get from the inside of his head to his body. But he ploughed on. There wasn't much of the evening left, and he had one more dish to pull out of the bag. Hugo ground biscuits into a fine crumb and mixed it with wedges of creamy butter for the base. He melted cream, butter and sugar together in a pan for the toffee sauce, and he peeled bananas and cut them into perfectly neat slices. Then he began the Preparing of the three pies. Plenty of biscuit for Mrs. Rumplefeather, plenty of banana for Mr. Rumplefeather, and for the little ostrich boy, plenty of toffee sauce. When he was done, he rang a little bell and in came Pickle. Pickle placed the three unique panoffee pies on a plate and then slipped back out into the restaurant. Hugo took a deep breath. That was his part of the evening over. There was no more cooking to be done, so Hugo began to tidy up, washing the cutlery he'd used, soaking the pans, scrubbing the used plates until they shone a dazzling white. He was almost done when Pickle appeared again. Hugo, he said in a conspiratorial Whisper. Come on, follow me. What? Hugo asked. Why? What's going on? Sh, Pickle said. No questions, Just come with me. Pickle went back out through the kitchen door into the restaurant, and after a moment, Hugo followed him. As soon as he stepped out of the kitchen, it was as though he'd stepped into a warm ocean of applause. In front of him, all the diners were clapping. The ostrich family and Wilbur the warthog, and even Mademoiselle Nibbles. Pickle was clapping too, and they were all looking at him with expressions of love and admiration. Bravo, bravo. Said Mademoiselle Nibbles. That was the greatest cheese plate I have ever set my little teeth into. Yes, thank you, said the young ostrich boy. Every single one of those banoffee pies was just perfect. And I could eat that undergrowth pie every night of my life. Wilbur. The warthog said, and Hugo, feeling the happy flush of pride and satisfaction move through him, took a little bow. The opening night of the Home Sweet Home restaurant had been a success, and he was so terribly happy about that. Later that evening, when the guests had all gone home and the chairs were set atop the tables and the kitchen had been cleared down and cleaned, Pickle and Hugo, the two old friends, settled down to share a refreshing glass of juice. What a long evening it had been for both of them. They had not for a moment sat down, but had been on their feet, tending to the guests, cooking and waiting tables. They were both tired now, but tired in that deep, contented way, the tiredness that comes with knowing you've done a job well. Hugo let out a big yawn, and then Pickle let out a big yawn, too. Bedtime soon, I should think, said Pickle. I need a big, long rest to refresh myself. So do I, Hugo agreed, especially as the restaurant opens up again tomorrow and we'll have a whole new bunch of guests to cater for. But before we go to bed, I have a little idea. Oh, yes? Said Pickle. What's that? Well, said Hugo, while we've fed everyone else, we've forgotten to feed ourselves, so I thought I'd rustle up one of your old favourites, a classic swamp mud pie. What do you think, old friend? Are you feeling peckish? Pickle looked at Hugo and felt very lucky to count him as one of his oldest friends and now as his colleague to boot. What a kind and caring toad he was. Now you come to mention it, Pickle said, I am rather peckish, and there's nothing that hits the spot like your swamp mud pie. And so, for the last time that evening, Hugo got to work and Pickle laid a little table with plates and crystal glasses and then sat down at it with his knife and fork, waiting. Sam.