Posted By FarmerJ on January 28, 2010

Have you ever had one of those days…or weeks? Have you ever attempted a task and things just seemed to go from bad to worse…to sublime? Well, I have! I never thought it’d happen ~ because I am married to the most easy-going man when it comes to caring for his culinary needs ~ but Darling Husbie has threatened to ban me from my own kitchen if things don’t change!
It all started a couple of weeks ago, on a Sunday. We have ‘Soup for Sunday’ at the Farmstead, and this particular Sunday, we were to have Potato Gnocchi and Chicken Soup. I got the chicken leg quarters on to boil in my favorite Caribbean Blue Enamel Cast Iron Dutch Oven ~ my mother-in-law had just given it to me at Thanksgiving. I doctored up the water with all kinds of flavorful spices and seasonings, as I was planning to use the homemade chicken broth in the soup, and then I set off back downstairs to assist Darling Husbie with the Project: Pantry endeavors.
Some time later, I began to smell a wretched smell. What was that smell? Then it dawned on me. The chicken. Cheese and crackers! I’d forgotten all about the chicken on the stove. I bolted up the stairs coughing and gasping and then coughing some more the closer I got to the top. I thought I’d done a good job of filling the house with smoke the day I made meatballs. Ha! I was an amateur that day, for I had really done it now! I hollered ~ and coughed some more ~ down to Darling Husbie to please open the front door for me. There it sat. What was to be our delicious Potato Gnocchi and Chicken Soup was now a charred blob of vaporized chicken parts billowing smoke atop the wood pile. Fortunately, it was a nice 34 degrees outside and I was able to open the doors and windows and turn the ceiling fans on to help at least clear the smoke. That ordeal was bad.
It took me six days to get that wretched smell out of the house. How do I know it was precisely six days? Because it was the following Saturday, as I was making a Cheesy Mashed Potato and Ham Bake, that I noticed I could finally open the spice cupboard and not have the lingering smell of vaporized chicken parts waft into my face.
Little did I know at the time, I really needed to cherish that moment because it certainly didn’t last long! Shortly after placing the Cheesy Mashed Potato and Ham Bake into the oven, I started smelling that smell. Not the wretched smell of vaporized chicken parts, but the smell of charred food, nonetheless. What could possibly have gone wrong? How could I possibly have ruined dinner this time? It was a simple casserole. You just can’t ruin a casserole! Eeeew, that smell. It wasn’t a pleasant smell, but unfortunately, it was a smell my family was becoming accustomed to. It was enough to distract Darling Husbie from whatever he was doing ~ he asked, “Are you burning something again?” Gah!
Somewhat fearful, I peered into the oven. Thankfully, dinner wasn’t a disaster this time. It was just a little messy and the oven was letting me know it was less than happy about it. The Cheesy Mashed Potato and Ham Bake had gotten a little too productive in the ‘heat until bubbly’ stage. Not a problem. I just scraped the charred cheesy mashed potato blobs from the bottom of the oven and carried on. Dinner was saved, but that smell was back. Sigh. Something in the world had to be off kilter. These kinds of mishaps just don’t happen this frequently around here. They just don’t. It had gone from bad to worse.
Somehow, I’d made it through the rest of the week kitchen unscathed. I was beginning to think whatever was off kilter was back on again and all would be right once again on the Farmstead stove. Ha! How wrong I was.
Sunday rolled around, and it seemed like a good day to piddle while Darling Husbie installed the floor in the pantry. I decided to get a loaf of homemade bread started ~ no concern there, as the bread machine has total control of the outcome. Once that was going, I thought a Jell-O Salad as a light dessert after dinner would be a nice treat. Easy enough. What could possibly go wrong making Jell-O, right? I mean, all you have to do is boil a little bit of water. Uh-huh. Just boil water. Right.
There were some fresh cranberries in the crisper that needed to be used up, so I thought they might be good in some orange flavored Jell-O. I put them on the stove to cook ~ a menial enough task. It wasn’t long before I realized that whatever was off kilter before was still off. This wasn’t my first cranberry rodeo. Cranberries ‘pop’ when they’re done. I knew that. I’ve cooked them before. But, they’ve never ‘popped’ so much that they spat boiling water on me before. They did this day.
I said ouch [I think Darling Husbie heard that subconsciously], rubbed it off and carried on my merry way. I added the sugar to sweeten the cranberries a little, turned them down to simmer and began to focus on the Jell-O. I read the instructions. Yep, still the same. Add one cup boiling water; stir until dissolved. Add one cup cold water; refrigerate until set. Got it. I wanted to give those cranberries a little more time, though.
The cranberries were smelling wonderfully ~ such a pleasant smell as opposed to wretched vaporized chicken parts and charred cheesy mashed potatoes. I thought I’d better give them a little stir so they wouldn’t stick to the bottom of the pot. Everything was going along just as it should. The cranberries were no longer ‘popping;’ they were just simmering in their sweet sugar syrup. The bread machine was working its magic perfectly without human intervention. Complete order. Pure kitchen bliss.
I went into the office to chat with Darling Husbie a minute. You know, just long enough to get a feel for his plan of attack on the day. What was that sound? Hmmm. There it was again. What was that? There was that smell again, too! Ugh! I abruptly interrupted poor Darling Husbie and rushed into the kitchen to find that the sweet sugar syrup the cranberries were simmering in had bubbled and crept up the sides of the saucepan and up and over onto the burner. Sweet. Now I had sugar syrup burned onto the glass stove top. The cranberries were still fine, though.
It was at this point Darling Husbie appeared, asking me, “What is going on? Am I going to have to ban you from the kitchen?” To be honest, I was almost ready to admit that he should ~ I was genuinely concerned that my family was becoming too accustomed to that burnt smell, that if something should really catch on fire they’d think, “Oh, that’s just Mom in the kitchen again,” and let it burn.
I brushed my bangs from my forehead, smiled and uttered an uncertain, “No, Lovie,” and then persevered to conquer the difficult task of making a Jell-O Salad. “I’m not so sure,” said Husbie as he [reluctantly, I think] returned to the office, leaving me alone in the kitchen. But, all that was left to do was boil the water.
I filled the Pyrex measuring cup with water to the one-cup line and placed it in the microwave. I set the time for three minutes and pressed ‘Start.’ I glanced down at the cranberries still sitting on the burner, now turned off. I think I actually sneered at them for the mess they’d made.
I turned to the other counter to pour the Jell-O mix into the bowl. Trust me, given my luck lately, I very carefully tore the package open and very attentively made sure all the Jell-O granules made it into the bowl and not onto the floor. Ah, success.
Poof! What was that?! The cranberries were turned off, the bread machine was working its magic without human intervention, and the water was heating in the microwave. The microwave. Why was there water running down the inside of the glass window of the microwave? Closer examination led me to discover there was actually water all over the inside of the microwave and the Pyrex measuring cup was almost empty. The whole kitchen crusade had just gone from worse to sublime.
I think I must have let out an involuntary yelp when the unexpected poof went off behind me, because Darling Husbie surfaced again, this time not saying anything, but looking at me with that one eyebrow raised. Any of you who know Darling Husbie and have spent enough time with him know that you don’t want that one-eyebrow look! Well, I got it.
At this point, I knew something extraordinary was going on. I still don’t know what, but it’s something. And, it’s something to behold. Darling Husbie hasn’t completely banned me from the kitchen ~ I don’t think his tummy will allow him to do that ~ but I think he figures that look was sufficient enough to make me realize I need to take extra precautionary measures when I’m in the kitchen…at least until whatever is off kilter gets back on again. ♥
Category: Adventures In Cooking |
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