I started my first oven fire last night! (It wasn't quite as dramatic as the picture above, but it could have been.) :) I was broiling Bacon Cheeseburgers for my dear husband and children. It was my first time to use the broiler, and I was following the recipe, thank you very much! It said "place burgers 3 to 4 inches from the broiler for 10-12 minutes." So I did. By minute 7 there was trouble. Smoke started billowing out and the alarms started going off. I opened the oven and saw that, Ah, they're on fire. Sweet Gizmo was standing in the corner with his hands over his ears crying, "Turn it off! Turn it off!" I took him into the living room and B.daddy started looking for the fire extinguisher. By the time we'd read the directions on the extinguisher and opened the oven back up the fire had gone out. So the burgers were saved and beautifully flame broiled. They were delicious!
This reminds me of some of my first kitchen mishaps:
Once I added cup after cup of flour to some very soupy mashed potatoes. I was just trying to thicken them up a bit, and though my husband of three months was telling me they would taste bad, I persisted. "They'll taste like flour," he cautioned. "Flour doesn't have a taste!" I retorted. (I'm a very proud, know-it-all sort of person.) Finally the potatoes were nice and thick, and they tasted horrible--disgusting. They tasted like flour.
The first time I ever tried to make fried chicken: I poured the oil in the pan and turned the heat up to medium...then medium high...then high. Why wouldn't the oil come to a boil?! In a moment of God's good mercy I called my mom before putting anything in the oil. I asked her how long it takes to bring oil to a boil, and in her most serious, nurse voice she said, "Do not put anything in the oil! Turn the burner off and leave the kitchen now!" She explained to me that oil doesn't boil--it catches on fire.
The next time I tried to make fried chicken: This was much later--we'd moved to Boston before I got up the nerve to try again. I brined the chicken in buttermilk and salt and followed the recipe to the "t." Which means, I fried the pieces exactly as long as the recipe said to...without cutting into them to check for doneness. What a beautiful meal set out on the table when my young husband came home from the office! We piled mashed potatoes (flourless), cream style corn, and fried chicken onto our plates. Then I took a huge bite out of my chicken leg. It tasted a little funny. The texture was a little off. B.daddy, being the King of Raw Chicken Phobia, cut his up and saw some very pink meat...and blood. By this time I had completely chewed and swallowed a mouthful of raw chicken. Defeated and disgusted I took the chicken back to the pan to finish frying them. When it was all said and done, we just couldn't bring ourselves to eat any of it. And I don't believe I have tried to make fried chicken ever since.
Hey sister -- Did I ever tell you about the oil fire I started at our first apartment? It's a great story.
ReplyDeleteUsually when I make fried chicken, I will fry it until it "looks" done, and then finish it in a 350 degree oven. Do you have a probe thermometer? If not, I'll get you one.
Here's an idea: A number of us should compile our cooking mishaps for a book!
ReplyDeleteOne of my early pie projects turned out with scrambled eggs in the chocolate mixture. Thus, the reason for stirring much of the pudding mixture into a bowl of the slightly beaten eggs then pouring that all back to the pan to cook a little longer...stirring constantly. :D
It is amazing how much that pic looks like your kitchen and oven! You scared me to death! And btw, when you called with the "How long does it take oil to boil?" question, you also said the oil was smoking - as in right before igniting - which was I told you to turn off the burner and get out! Ahhh, good times. :)
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