This is my vegetable oil, EN FLAMBE ON MY STOVE...
While yesterday, I cooked my Tupperware lid onto my stove burner, I thought this would have been a particularly funny ha-ha story to tell AM when she came over tonight. I put some vegetable oil in my glass frying pan, started to heat it up, then came into my bedroom to get a conversion for cups to tablespoons. (I didn’t have any ketchup; did you know you could substitute with tomato sauce, sugar, and vinegar? Trufax.) I figured out the conversion with the best of my dimensional analysis, then gallivanted back towards my kitchen.
My living room was saturated with smoke. As this fact registered, both smoke alarms went off. (I’ve only set one off previously; they are HIGHLY annoying together.) I rounded the semi-corner into my kitchen to see a FLAME rising off of my STOVE.
I SET MY KITCHEN EN FLAMBE!
I pulled the frying pan off the stove, which WAS ON FIRE, reached into the deep recesses of my brain, and plucked out the handy fact that you throw baking soda onto a stove fire. Reaching into my fridge with one hand and the other holding the FLAMING PAN of FIERY VEGETABLE OIL, I found my baking soda and doused the flames. I then ran around the house, closing bedroom doors, opening front doors, turning fans onto MAXIMUM BLOW, and waving a flannel at the various smoke alarms, finally getting them to quiet.
I thought I was losing my vision, it was so murky in this bitch.
I sent a quick text to my cousin, “I set my kitchen on fire. Dinner might be a bit.”
She showed up, running into my phantom screen door. As she laughed about running into a mesh wall, I stood there trying to wash a pan to try and cook dinner. She came into my kitchen, “What the hell happened?”
I explained the story of yesterday’s burner issue and today’s en flambe vegetable oil. She went and sat on my couch, as we laughed about the fact at how much we are becoming our mothers. I even sent my father a text message about the en flambe. Instead of him panicking in typical Da-ee fashion and because he was/is a firefighter, he simply mused, “Yup, more like Momma!”
I feel so comforted.
I tried to explain I was going to fry the hot dogs, when she said, “Nuke those bastards! You already have one burner looking to be covered in frosting and the back one looks like you were making heroin!”
So we nuked, baked hot dogs, watched a vampire movie, then baked a cake. After gorging on chocolate cake of omgsohappy, we then realized that OnDemand has a trivia feature.
Where they let you play Scene!It.
She trolloped off to go back to her boyfriend’s with a piece of cake, and we agreed to play Scene!It the next time we’re together. So, all in all, a good night, despite double smoke alarms, an ACTUAL FIRE ON MY STOVE, and a really nasty blackened glass frying pan...
... tomorrow, I’m baking fish.
My living room was saturated with smoke. As this fact registered, both smoke alarms went off. (I’ve only set one off previously; they are HIGHLY annoying together.) I rounded the semi-corner into my kitchen to see a FLAME rising off of my STOVE.
I SET MY KITCHEN EN FLAMBE!
I pulled the frying pan off the stove, which WAS ON FIRE, reached into the deep recesses of my brain, and plucked out the handy fact that you throw baking soda onto a stove fire. Reaching into my fridge with one hand and the other holding the FLAMING PAN of FIERY VEGETABLE OIL, I found my baking soda and doused the flames. I then ran around the house, closing bedroom doors, opening front doors, turning fans onto MAXIMUM BLOW, and waving a flannel at the various smoke alarms, finally getting them to quiet.
I thought I was losing my vision, it was so murky in this bitch.
I sent a quick text to my cousin, “I set my kitchen on fire. Dinner might be a bit.”
She showed up, running into my phantom screen door. As she laughed about running into a mesh wall, I stood there trying to wash a pan to try and cook dinner. She came into my kitchen, “What the hell happened?”
I explained the story of yesterday’s burner issue and today’s en flambe vegetable oil. She went and sat on my couch, as we laughed about the fact at how much we are becoming our mothers. I even sent my father a text message about the en flambe. Instead of him panicking in typical Da-ee fashion and because he was/is a firefighter, he simply mused, “Yup, more like Momma!”
I feel so comforted.
I tried to explain I was going to fry the hot dogs, when she said, “Nuke those bastards! You already have one burner looking to be covered in frosting and the back one looks like you were making heroin!”
So we nuked, baked hot dogs, watched a vampire movie, then baked a cake. After gorging on chocolate cake of omgsohappy, we then realized that OnDemand has a trivia feature.
Where they let you play Scene!It.
She trolloped off to go back to her boyfriend’s with a piece of cake, and we agreed to play Scene!It the next time we’re together. So, all in all, a good night, despite double smoke alarms, an ACTUAL FIRE ON MY STOVE, and a really nasty blackened glass frying pan...
... tomorrow, I’m baking fish.