Tough guys can cook, proclaims Thorson, who makes rather overmuch of his enlightened practice of sharing housework with his working wife. But cooking, to Thorson, is a no-sweat process employing the likes of garlic powder, Minute Rice, Realemon, catsup, and Velveeta--even Jello with aerosol whipped cream. He really likes this stuff. And though his kitchen primer, arranged as one long, light chat with recipes built into the text, is meant as light humor, Thorson doesn't seem to be kidding when he recommends ""making your own pie"" with pie crust sticks and canned tilling--or suggests that ""should you really have to cook broccoli or cauliflower, pour a little melted Cheese Whiz over the top."" But it's not that anything goes in Thorson's book: He'll name brands of canned and instant products he finds inedible. And mixed in with the unreconstructed bachelor-style meals, opinionated pronouncements, and rambling digressions--on everything from macho mythology to the two kinds of walkers in the Dallas airport--are some practical pointers on making gravy, rinsing noodles, and other elementary operations not covered in many standard cookbooks. All of which could come in handy to guys who share his perversely anti-snob taste, appreciate his locker-room delivery, and have time for a few Aunt Bessie anecdotes when they're looking up directions for a dish.