Lasagna is delicious. I think that we can all agree on that. All that cheesy goodness melted in with the pasta sauce and the noodles...yummy. I am not one of those master chef types, and reports of the many times I've set fire to my kitchen are not exaggerations. Yet I make a decent lasagna, if I do say so myself.
My first attempt at lasagna was made in college. I had an apartment with an actual kitchen, and I decided that it was time to venture forth and start cooking. I searched the cookbooks for a meal that caught my eye and found a lasagna recipe. Most people just starting out on a cooking adventure would choose something less complicated, but not me! With the adventurous optimism of the young, I was off to the store to purchase my ingredients. I even called up my friend Arnold, who was a football player. I told him to bring a couple of friends. I was that confident.
It was at the store that I first realized that I was making a meal "from scratch". There would be no shortcuts, because at that time, there were no shortcuts. I would have to chop up the tomatoes and garlic, and ground the beef, before I could even begin layering stuff in the pan. It was here that I first noted that I would have to cook the noodles as well. I would have quit at this point, except that I'd invited football players over for dinner. They would come hungry, and Lord only knew what they would happen if they had to leave hungry!
I'd just have to suck it up and do my best.
I boiled the noodles, per the instructions, and laid them out while I finished making the sauce. I had a bit of trouble with draining the grease off of the ground beef. I cut myself twice while cutting tomatoes, and once while chopping garlic. And it was hot in that little apartment kitchen! The only pan I had that was big enough was a pan that someone had written "rectal" on the inside(thanks Dad!), but it was too late to run out and purchase a new one. I carefully followed the layering instructions and placed the lasagna in the oven to bake. Then my roommate and I cleaned up the best I could and waited for our three guests.
Who came in the door, said hello, and proceeded to inhale every last scrap of lasagna(the recipe said it would serve 12 people), plus two loaves of garlic bread. And then they left, no doubt off to some other girl's house, to eat another meal or two before they felt less peckish. Arnold did say that the lasagna was very good, and I suppose the fact that the entire pan disappeared was a compliment.
These days, I take advantage of the shortcuts. I've made lasagna enough since college to feel comfortable with the whole process of making it, which I consider progress. I use jars of pasta sauce, and buy garlic already chopped. I buy oven ready noodles that don't have to be cooked. I modify the recipe that is on the back of the box of noodles, and add different types of cheese, or use turkey instead of beef. And I use the crockpot to cook when I can, to save time.
My husband loves it, and he has not had one case of food poisoning, so I guess I'm doing it right.
What is a recipe that your family loves?
Showing posts with label cooking. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cooking. Show all posts
Monday, April 14, 2014
Monday, June 25, 2012
The A-List: Things That I Can Cook
I have deficient cooking skills. My mother did all the cooking in our house, until I was sixteen. I was not allowed to cook in her kitchen without supervision, because I got everything messy and I never put stuff back where my mother wanted it. (Perhaps I did that on purpose, mom!) Since I became an adult, I've had to do my own cooking. It's been difficult, mostly because a lot of cooking involves...*gasp*...math. Who knew? But I am able to follow a recipe, as long as I have my glasses on and double check that I didn't read "tsp" as tablespoon. I have learned to cook a few items consistently well over the years.
1. Lasagna The first time I made lasagna, in college, I did it the hard way. I boiled the noodles and hung them up, layered everything, and all that fancy stuff. It took me two hours and I had two large pans of lasagna at the end of it. Unfortunately, I also had invited a friend of mine who was a football player, and he brought three of his football playing buddies. My first attempt at lasagna was gone in less than twenty minutes! I did manage to save myself a couple of bites, and nobody got food poisoning. Since then, I've streamlined the recipe a bit. For instance, I use spaghetti sauce with basil and oregano already in it, so I don't have to add the spices. I use the oven ready noodles, too. My husband salivates just talking about my lasagna, and if he will eat it, I'll keep cooking it.
2. Eggs It is fairly difficult to mess up eggs, I know. I usually end up scrambling them, because I'm the only person in the house who likes them over easy. When the eggs are almost done, I throw in chunks of ham and lots of melty cheddar cheese. That's it. If it is just me, I'll add some tomatoes, onions, and bell peppers. (If I am feeling really racy, I'll substitute gorgonzola cheese for the cheddar!) That is our meal--breakfast, lunch or dinner. Larry adds toast or tortillas, but I am okay without the extra carbs.
3. Spaghetti. It's not the spaghetti noodles, it's the sauce! I'll add extra veggies to the sauce, large chunks of tomatoes and onions. I'll throw in some extra garlic. Meatballs are nice, if you have time, but just browning some hamburger is fine. I'll get some of that Morning Star Farms vegetarian crumble stuff that looks like hamburger and mix that in, just for a switch up. Instead of the usual cheese on top of the mountain, I like to go for a mix of mozzarella, parm, and asiago, because I'm just that crazy.
4. Tacos In order to live in Texas, you are required to be able to cook at least one dish from the local cuisine. It's pretty difficult to ruin a taco, therefore it is safe for me to try to cook it. I do not like lettuce on my tacos. But that is the great thing about tacos--after the meat is on there, one is free to indulge in an assortment of choices regarding what else goes on the taco. I prefer more tomatoes, and avocados, on my tacos, and therefore I can have them. We even have soft tacos where the meat and the cheese is covered with barbeque sauce.
5. Grilled cheese sammiches Real people eat sammiches. Sammiches don't have to look pretty, they just have to get the job done. Grilled cheese sandwiches are pretty simple--two pieces of bread, buttered, with cheese in the middle. Why stop with just one kind of cheese? Why stop with just cheese? This stuff is made for experimentation! I'll throw in sharp cheddar and some bacon to go with the American slice. Sometimes I'll throw bits of ham in there. Unless you burn the bread, every grilled cheese sammich tastes great!
I have honorable mentions today!
Fudge. I found a recipe for microwave fudge that is beyond easy, and of course it is delicious.
Chocolate cake. I add more chocolate to the batter before it goes into the oven. I drizzle chocolate syrup over the batter, and I throw in chunks of chocolate as well. With all that, you don't need any icing! I would like to try this with a butter cake--sprinkle melted butter over the batter and drop frozen butter pats into the batter--but I am a chicken.
Those are things that I can consistently 'whip up' in my secret labora--kitchen. What are your tried and true recipes?
1. Lasagna The first time I made lasagna, in college, I did it the hard way. I boiled the noodles and hung them up, layered everything, and all that fancy stuff. It took me two hours and I had two large pans of lasagna at the end of it. Unfortunately, I also had invited a friend of mine who was a football player, and he brought three of his football playing buddies. My first attempt at lasagna was gone in less than twenty minutes! I did manage to save myself a couple of bites, and nobody got food poisoning. Since then, I've streamlined the recipe a bit. For instance, I use spaghetti sauce with basil and oregano already in it, so I don't have to add the spices. I use the oven ready noodles, too. My husband salivates just talking about my lasagna, and if he will eat it, I'll keep cooking it.
2. Eggs It is fairly difficult to mess up eggs, I know. I usually end up scrambling them, because I'm the only person in the house who likes them over easy. When the eggs are almost done, I throw in chunks of ham and lots of melty cheddar cheese. That's it. If it is just me, I'll add some tomatoes, onions, and bell peppers. (If I am feeling really racy, I'll substitute gorgonzola cheese for the cheddar!) That is our meal--breakfast, lunch or dinner. Larry adds toast or tortillas, but I am okay without the extra carbs.
3. Spaghetti. It's not the spaghetti noodles, it's the sauce! I'll add extra veggies to the sauce, large chunks of tomatoes and onions. I'll throw in some extra garlic. Meatballs are nice, if you have time, but just browning some hamburger is fine. I'll get some of that Morning Star Farms vegetarian crumble stuff that looks like hamburger and mix that in, just for a switch up. Instead of the usual cheese on top of the mountain, I like to go for a mix of mozzarella, parm, and asiago, because I'm just that crazy.
4. Tacos In order to live in Texas, you are required to be able to cook at least one dish from the local cuisine. It's pretty difficult to ruin a taco, therefore it is safe for me to try to cook it. I do not like lettuce on my tacos. But that is the great thing about tacos--after the meat is on there, one is free to indulge in an assortment of choices regarding what else goes on the taco. I prefer more tomatoes, and avocados, on my tacos, and therefore I can have them. We even have soft tacos where the meat and the cheese is covered with barbeque sauce.
5. Grilled cheese sammiches Real people eat sammiches. Sammiches don't have to look pretty, they just have to get the job done. Grilled cheese sandwiches are pretty simple--two pieces of bread, buttered, with cheese in the middle. Why stop with just one kind of cheese? Why stop with just cheese? This stuff is made for experimentation! I'll throw in sharp cheddar and some bacon to go with the American slice. Sometimes I'll throw bits of ham in there. Unless you burn the bread, every grilled cheese sammich tastes great!
I have honorable mentions today!
Fudge. I found a recipe for microwave fudge that is beyond easy, and of course it is delicious.
Chocolate cake. I add more chocolate to the batter before it goes into the oven. I drizzle chocolate syrup over the batter, and I throw in chunks of chocolate as well. With all that, you don't need any icing! I would like to try this with a butter cake--sprinkle melted butter over the batter and drop frozen butter pats into the batter--but I am a chicken.
Those are things that I can consistently 'whip up' in my secret labora--kitchen. What are your tried and true recipes?
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Getting A Few Things Off My Chest
My brain still has not adjusted to being back at work, and we are still having computer problems, which hasn't helped. Sitting around with nothing to do(everything I need to do is on the effing computer!) gets my panties in a serious bunch. When I finally do get my computers fixed, I'll be all stressed out because I'll feel behind. Phooey.
Why do they put the most horrific colors on the underpants that they sell in packs? Why can't I just buy a three-pack of black? Men can buy packs of underpants in reasonable colors. Why do I get stuck with a florescent yellow-green pair? Do these companies know how huge my butt looks in florescent yellow-green? Who decides this? Tell me, because I want to punch them right in the face. I have enough of a complex about how I look without dealing with that!
Last week I spent a great deal of time writing for a prompt from a website, posted my link, read and commented on several of the other blogger offerings...and not ONE person from that writer's site even looked at what I had written. I've kind of felt like the kid who just doesn't fit over there, the kid who tries too hard to be accepted(OMG, I am reliving my childhood!), and this sort of sealed the deal for me. If it weren't for my virtual blog-friends(is that the right term?) commenting, I probably would have cried because I was feeling hormonal. So...I give up trying to earn their approval for my writing. If I feel like it, I'll write for the prompt. But I'm not going to stress about it, and I'm not going to spend hours reading and commenting when it's not reciprocated. Instead, I will save all my love for my regular, and beloved, readers.
Last night I tried to cook a seven-steak. I hadn't ever heard of seven-steak before; I had to go look it up to even figure out what the hell it was. I wanted to put it in the crock pot all day, but when I said something to Larry about it, he got this 'ew' look on his face, so I didn't. So I ruined it, trying to cook it on the stove. Sometimes I don't even know why I bother trying to cook at all. Even my own child would rather eat waffles! Somebody else needs to do the cooking; I feel too incompetent with a spatula. Plus I keep setting my kitchen on fire and the alarm company is probably going to start charging us extra.
And why the hell can't my gray hairs gather in one spot like Jo Beth Williams in Poltergeist? It's bad enough that I HAVE gray hairs, can't I at least look trendy or cutting edge for once?
There just isn't enough chocolate to put me in a good mood today. I hope that tomorrow is better!
This concludes the venting/whining. We now continue with your regularly scheduled programming...
Why do they put the most horrific colors on the underpants that they sell in packs? Why can't I just buy a three-pack of black? Men can buy packs of underpants in reasonable colors. Why do I get stuck with a florescent yellow-green pair? Do these companies know how huge my butt looks in florescent yellow-green? Who decides this? Tell me, because I want to punch them right in the face. I have enough of a complex about how I look without dealing with that!
Last week I spent a great deal of time writing for a prompt from a website, posted my link, read and commented on several of the other blogger offerings...and not ONE person from that writer's site even looked at what I had written. I've kind of felt like the kid who just doesn't fit over there, the kid who tries too hard to be accepted(OMG, I am reliving my childhood!), and this sort of sealed the deal for me. If it weren't for my virtual blog-friends(is that the right term?) commenting, I probably would have cried because I was feeling hormonal. So...I give up trying to earn their approval for my writing. If I feel like it, I'll write for the prompt. But I'm not going to stress about it, and I'm not going to spend hours reading and commenting when it's not reciprocated. Instead, I will save all my love for my regular, and beloved, readers.
Last night I tried to cook a seven-steak. I hadn't ever heard of seven-steak before; I had to go look it up to even figure out what the hell it was. I wanted to put it in the crock pot all day, but when I said something to Larry about it, he got this 'ew' look on his face, so I didn't. So I ruined it, trying to cook it on the stove. Sometimes I don't even know why I bother trying to cook at all. Even my own child would rather eat waffles! Somebody else needs to do the cooking; I feel too incompetent with a spatula. Plus I keep setting my kitchen on fire and the alarm company is probably going to start charging us extra.
And why the hell can't my gray hairs gather in one spot like Jo Beth Williams in Poltergeist? It's bad enough that I HAVE gray hairs, can't I at least look trendy or cutting edge for once?
There just isn't enough chocolate to put me in a good mood today. I hope that tomorrow is better!
This concludes the venting/whining. We now continue with your regularly scheduled programming...
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Cooking Can Be Fun
Cooking kind of scares me. It always has. I remember when I was a kid visiting my grandmother, she would use her hand as a measuring cup, adding a fistful of this or a pinch of that, without looking at a recipe. Who the heck can compete with that kind of pressure?
But I was recently invited to a dinner party at my friend Kermette's house. Not having much experience with dinner parties that don't involve BBQ and paper plates, I was a little concerned about my long forgotten table manners. I generally don't do well in situations with more than three forks and two plates. I was afraid I'd use the oyster fork incorrectly and be shamed into leaving the state.
There were ten of us ladies invited. We chatted amiably amongst ourselves while we waited for our hostess. Kermette came downstairs and brought a cup with numbers in it; we had to pick a number to divide us into teams. Each team was responsible for cooking a different 'course' of the evening meal--appetizer, salad, meat, etc. We all immediately kidded Kermette about her extravagant ruse to get us all to cook for her, but we were kind of intrigued. I could tell because several ladies immediately declared that they would need some sort of alcoholic beverage to get their courage up. We are a raucous bunch when it's just us girls.
My partner Patty and I got the job of making Ratatouille. After someone told us how to pronounce it, we got to work. the first order of business was chopping up zucchini, eggplant, and squash. I generally am not very good with knives, but I was extremely careful. Nothing like severing an artery to kill a party. We were momentarily distracted by the recipe calling for a 'dutch oven'. Huh? We ended up using a large pot instead. We were to saute' the first group of veggies while chopping up a second round, including three different peppers. I was in charge of mincing garlic. I have never minced garlic before. I gave it the old college try, in the spirit of the evening.
That was when Patty noticed that we had an extra yellow squash. Oops! Patty made quick work of cutting the squash up and slipping it into the pot with the peppers and the garlic. Then we added stewed tomatoes, wine, and various spices. While that cooked, I grated the parm cheese, the last part of the recipe. In the meantime, we snacked on the appetizer, a hot cheesy crab dip which was served with homemade artisan bread baked by our friend Dee. My sister-in-law and her partner got the task of cooking the Cornish game hens, while another group made a Caesar salad, and the last team worked on risotto.
Then it was dinner time! Kermette had her formal dining room set up fancy.
Cornish Game Hens
Ratatouille
Risotto
Dinner is Served!!!
It was a wonderful evening!
But I was recently invited to a dinner party at my friend Kermette's house. Not having much experience with dinner parties that don't involve BBQ and paper plates, I was a little concerned about my long forgotten table manners. I generally don't do well in situations with more than three forks and two plates. I was afraid I'd use the oyster fork incorrectly and be shamed into leaving the state.
There were ten of us ladies invited. We chatted amiably amongst ourselves while we waited for our hostess. Kermette came downstairs and brought a cup with numbers in it; we had to pick a number to divide us into teams. Each team was responsible for cooking a different 'course' of the evening meal--appetizer, salad, meat, etc. We all immediately kidded Kermette about her extravagant ruse to get us all to cook for her, but we were kind of intrigued. I could tell because several ladies immediately declared that they would need some sort of alcoholic beverage to get their courage up. We are a raucous bunch when it's just us girls.
My partner Patty and I got the job of making Ratatouille. After someone told us how to pronounce it, we got to work. the first order of business was chopping up zucchini, eggplant, and squash. I generally am not very good with knives, but I was extremely careful. Nothing like severing an artery to kill a party. We were momentarily distracted by the recipe calling for a 'dutch oven'. Huh? We ended up using a large pot instead. We were to saute' the first group of veggies while chopping up a second round, including three different peppers. I was in charge of mincing garlic. I have never minced garlic before. I gave it the old college try, in the spirit of the evening.
That was when Patty noticed that we had an extra yellow squash. Oops! Patty made quick work of cutting the squash up and slipping it into the pot with the peppers and the garlic. Then we added stewed tomatoes, wine, and various spices. While that cooked, I grated the parm cheese, the last part of the recipe. In the meantime, we snacked on the appetizer, a hot cheesy crab dip which was served with homemade artisan bread baked by our friend Dee. My sister-in-law and her partner got the task of cooking the Cornish game hens, while another group made a Caesar salad, and the last team worked on risotto.
Then it was dinner time! Kermette had her formal dining room set up fancy.
Cornish Game Hens
Ratatouille
Risotto
Dinner is Served!!!
It was a wonderful evening!
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Kitchen Adventures, Part Three
We have been trying to eat more home-cooked meals to save some money, and I had seen a recipe for enchiladas that I thought would be pretty good. On a day that I had to stay home with Zane because he was not feeling well, I decided to try the recipe. The package that the recipe was on indicated that "Prep time" would be 15 minutes. I figured that I could do that. I managed to cook and shred some chicken while Zane was napping, and was very proud of myself.
I got all of the ingredients together and started to prepare the food. First on the agenda was to chop a small onion. Okay...I started chopping the onion.
"Mama, what's that?" Zane wanted to know. I explained that it was an onion, and told him that the smell would make him cry. While I am explaining this, my eyes started to water, so then I had to explain to him that Mama was not actually crying. Since I have a sacrosanct rule about using sharp implements when blind, I had to put down the knife and wait until my eyes weren't so teary. All told, it took me about 20 minutes to get the onion chopped.
Next I put the onions and some olive oil into a skillet to brown them. That went okay, so then I added all the other ingredients to the skillet, per the instructions, stirred it all together. It was time to put what was in the skillet(which smelled REALLY yummy) into tortillas, and then...
"Mama, I go poop," came a plaintive voice from the other side of the kitchen. I sighed heavily in my frustration at being interrupted. In my defense, I was starting to get a little hungry, so I was very focused on my task.
"Okay, sweets," I replied. Then I realized that Zane wasn't wearing a pullup, he was wearing underpants. He had been telling us when he had to 'go', but I guess that he was very focused on what he was doing, just like his Mama.
Ten minutes later, after I washed my hands, I went back into the kitchen to find that some of the gooey-goodness that was in the skillet on the stove had burned. I tasted it, and it still tasted good to me, so I wrapped everything up in the tortillas and got everything in the oven. I did think that it was kind of odd that there was not really any sauce to go on the enchiladas, but I had followed the recipe and the recipe did not call for any rojo sauce or verde sauce. I cleaned up the kitchen. I was very proud of myself.
When Larry came home and found out what we were having for dinner, he was skeptical.
"What about the sauce?" he wanted to know.
Marriage-Saving Rule #478: when your spouse has been working hard and cooking your dinner for you, do not say anything except "Thank you". I gave my husband a pointed look, and subtracted -50 DHP(dedicated husband points, in gamer terms). We sat at the table and began eating.
Objectively speaking, the enchiladas were pretty good for a first attempt. They would have been better with some verde sauce or even some queso. (these weren't really enchiladas, no matter what the Philly Cream Cheese people say.) Overall, I was quite pleased with how they turned out.
Larry ate about four bites of one enchilada, then got up from the table and came back with a jar of peanut butter and some bread. I watched him approach the table and sit down with my mouth hanging open a little, because who DOES that? Who completely blows off someone's efforts like that? Even if the food is downright horrid, who would hurt someone's feelings by indicating that they would rather eat a FREAKIN'PEANUT BUTTER SANDWICH than the food you spent more than fifteen minutes preparing and cooking?
"What are you doing?" I finally asked.
"They really need sauce," Larry explained. I just looked at him.
"But they're okay," he added. I continued to blanky stare at him.
"But they're pretty good?" Larry is slow sometimes, but he finally realized that he was in the deep water without swim fins.
"But they're DELICIOUS!" Larry said again. I shifted my eyes toward the peanut butter, then back to my husband's face.
This is the sort of moment when I fervently wish that the Hand of God would come down from on High and smack my husband right upside the head.
I got all of the ingredients together and started to prepare the food. First on the agenda was to chop a small onion. Okay...I started chopping the onion.
"Mama, what's that?" Zane wanted to know. I explained that it was an onion, and told him that the smell would make him cry. While I am explaining this, my eyes started to water, so then I had to explain to him that Mama was not actually crying. Since I have a sacrosanct rule about using sharp implements when blind, I had to put down the knife and wait until my eyes weren't so teary. All told, it took me about 20 minutes to get the onion chopped.
Next I put the onions and some olive oil into a skillet to brown them. That went okay, so then I added all the other ingredients to the skillet, per the instructions, stirred it all together. It was time to put what was in the skillet(which smelled REALLY yummy) into tortillas, and then...
"Mama, I go poop," came a plaintive voice from the other side of the kitchen. I sighed heavily in my frustration at being interrupted. In my defense, I was starting to get a little hungry, so I was very focused on my task.
"Okay, sweets," I replied. Then I realized that Zane wasn't wearing a pullup, he was wearing underpants. He had been telling us when he had to 'go', but I guess that he was very focused on what he was doing, just like his Mama.
Ten minutes later, after I washed my hands, I went back into the kitchen to find that some of the gooey-goodness that was in the skillet on the stove had burned. I tasted it, and it still tasted good to me, so I wrapped everything up in the tortillas and got everything in the oven. I did think that it was kind of odd that there was not really any sauce to go on the enchiladas, but I had followed the recipe and the recipe did not call for any rojo sauce or verde sauce. I cleaned up the kitchen. I was very proud of myself.
When Larry came home and found out what we were having for dinner, he was skeptical.
"What about the sauce?" he wanted to know.
Marriage-Saving Rule #478: when your spouse has been working hard and cooking your dinner for you, do not say anything except "Thank you". I gave my husband a pointed look, and subtracted -50 DHP(dedicated husband points, in gamer terms). We sat at the table and began eating.
Objectively speaking, the enchiladas were pretty good for a first attempt. They would have been better with some verde sauce or even some queso. (these weren't really enchiladas, no matter what the Philly Cream Cheese people say.) Overall, I was quite pleased with how they turned out.
Larry ate about four bites of one enchilada, then got up from the table and came back with a jar of peanut butter and some bread. I watched him approach the table and sit down with my mouth hanging open a little, because who DOES that? Who completely blows off someone's efforts like that? Even if the food is downright horrid, who would hurt someone's feelings by indicating that they would rather eat a FREAKIN'PEANUT BUTTER SANDWICH than the food you spent more than fifteen minutes preparing and cooking?
"What are you doing?" I finally asked.
"They really need sauce," Larry explained. I just looked at him.
"But they're okay," he added. I continued to blanky stare at him.
"But they're pretty good?" Larry is slow sometimes, but he finally realized that he was in the deep water without swim fins.
"But they're DELICIOUS!" Larry said again. I shifted my eyes toward the peanut butter, then back to my husband's face.
This is the sort of moment when I fervently wish that the Hand of God would come down from on High and smack my husband right upside the head.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Kitchen Adventures, Part Two
I decided to cook steaks for my husband this evening. I decided to cook the steaks on the stove top. I don't know why; someone else out there might have thought that cooking steaks on a stove top was a bad idea. When it comes to cooking, that little voice in the back of my mind that tells me when something might not be a good idea is a selective mute.
Everything was going great, I thought. I even threw on a couple of pork chops so I wouldn't have to cook the next day. Larry was sitting in the kitchen reading the paper, and Zane was playing with his trains in the living room. Life was good. Since I prefer my steaks medium rare, my steak was cooked pretty quickly and taken off the heat. However, my husband is one of those "medium well" folk, so his steak was taking awhile, and I noticed that it was smoking a bit. Then I got distracted by thoughts of a side dish.
"Uh...honey?" I heard from behind me.
"What?" I answered, busy with some random vegetable I found in the freezer.
"Don't you think that you should turn the vent on?" Larry said. I looked up.
Enough white smoke filled the kitchen to elect a new pope. I hurriedly turned on the vent, opened some windows, and turned on a couple of ceiling fans. Too late. The smoke alarms went off. Larry started cracking up with laughter.
Our house came with an alarm system built in, and we pay someone to monitor our house so there's someone to call the proper emergency response people if we aren't there. The monitoring company, ADT, always calls first before they contact the authorities. So the phone rang, in our house full of smoke, with the alarm beeping and all the windows open. Larry answered the phone, still chuckling. I didn't hear the first part of the conversation, just the end.
"We are all fine. It's just my wife's cooking," Larry told the ADT person. He was still chuckling as he got off the phone.
I think that he can do the cooking next time, don't you?
Everything was going great, I thought. I even threw on a couple of pork chops so I wouldn't have to cook the next day. Larry was sitting in the kitchen reading the paper, and Zane was playing with his trains in the living room. Life was good. Since I prefer my steaks medium rare, my steak was cooked pretty quickly and taken off the heat. However, my husband is one of those "medium well" folk, so his steak was taking awhile, and I noticed that it was smoking a bit. Then I got distracted by thoughts of a side dish.
"Uh...honey?" I heard from behind me.
"What?" I answered, busy with some random vegetable I found in the freezer.
"Don't you think that you should turn the vent on?" Larry said. I looked up.
Enough white smoke filled the kitchen to elect a new pope. I hurriedly turned on the vent, opened some windows, and turned on a couple of ceiling fans. Too late. The smoke alarms went off. Larry started cracking up with laughter.
Our house came with an alarm system built in, and we pay someone to monitor our house so there's someone to call the proper emergency response people if we aren't there. The monitoring company, ADT, always calls first before they contact the authorities. So the phone rang, in our house full of smoke, with the alarm beeping and all the windows open. Larry answered the phone, still chuckling. I didn't hear the first part of the conversation, just the end.
"We are all fine. It's just my wife's cooking," Larry told the ADT person. He was still chuckling as he got off the phone.
I think that he can do the cooking next time, don't you?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)