The Triple-Cheese Sleepwalker Skillet, it’s Cooking with Hank

2:30 in the morning.

Kitchen lit by the fridge bulb like a lonely moon.

Stomach growling like it’s filing a complaint with management. 

Time to make The Triple-Cheese Sleepwalker Skillet.

Step 1. The Goo Council
Grab that cream cheese. Invite some shredded cheddar to the party. Splash in a little heavy cream, toss a pinch of salt, and stir it till it looks like something you probably shouldn’t admit you can eat with a spoon. Resist the spoon. Show character.

Step 2. Mayo in its Fancy Pajamas
Scoop out some mayonnaise. Sprinkle in garlic and salt. Stir. Congratulations, you just turned regular mayo into Night Mayor of Flavor Town.

Step 3. The Build
Bread on the counter.

On one slice, lay down two pieces of cheddar like you’re tucking them in.

On the other slice, lay down two pieces of provolone, the quiet cousin who still knows how to party.

Now smear that cream cheese mixture on both sides. Generous. If it ain’t slightly reckless, you’re doing daylight cooking.

Press the halves together. Give it a little pat like, “You’re about to become important.”

Step 4. Pajama Armor
Spread the garlic mayo on the outside of the sandwich. Mayo side goes down in the skillet. Then paint the top like you’re frosting a cake that failed school.

Step 5. Low. Slow. Respect the Melt.
Keep the heat gentle. This is not a race. This is a ceremony. 
You want the outside crispy and golden while the inside turns into a lava committee of dairy making life decisions.

Flip when the bottom looks like it won the county fair.

Wait. Listen. You can almost hear the cheese whispering sweet nonsense.

Step 6. Eat Like a Legend
Pull it out. Let it sit for a hot second unless you enjoy branding the roof of your mouth with regret.

Slice. Stretch. Admire that molten masterpiece. 

Congratulations.
You just defeated 2:30am.

If the fridge claps, bow.

---