Cooking with Kaylan
So, I decide that I want to make lunch. What, you ask, am I going to make? Why, Grilled Cheese Sammich and Tomato Soup. MMm. Nummies.
So, yea.. the soup goes without a hitch. Its like boiling water, right? Right. Good soup.
The Sandwich, though, I have been asked multiple times by -both- parents what the hell I did. It wasn't -so- bad.. really. *cough* I cooked up the one side, then flipped it over not really remembering the fact that the skillet got hotter the whole time, so the second side will take less time than the first. I'm drugged, gimme a break here. But so I -really- have to go to the bathroom and I'm like, "It'll only take a sec.." well, when I come back I look at the stove and there's some smoke coming out of the pan. Hhrm.. Its burning. I start walking that way to flip on the fan to draw said smoke away when the smoke alarm goes off. (Okay, so it was a lot of smoke.. ahem.) Its -really- loud and annoying, so my attention turns to it. I go grab the step-stool from the kitchen and take down the alarm and rip the battery out, Problem solved, right? Wrong. There's still a lot of smoke.. more than befo-.. OoOOh yea. The pan is still on the stove hot and burning. Damn that's a lot of smoke, I should open a window. SO, I go and open the slider door and the two windows in the kitchen, as well as making sure the fan is still on. Then I think for a second, Dad's gonna be mad that I have the windows and stuff open if the heat is on.. so, I go turn off the heat. Damn, that's -still- a lot of smok-.. The paaaan. Ohh yea.. By the time I get back to the pan, I have new charcoal to draw with. Eew. I take the pan off the heat, run water in sink and dunk. Ooh.. more smoke..
Did I mention that my dad never finished the piping from the fan at the stove to the outside of our house? *ahems quietly* The basement is a bad, -bad- place to be right now my friends.. bad.. bad place.
This is why I am -not- allowed to cook while I'm drugged. Heck, I'm not allowed to cook on a -good- day. We aaall remember the egg fiasco, and the powdered sugar blunder... surprisingly, those both happened within an hour of each other. Hrm.
So, yea.. the soup goes without a hitch. Its like boiling water, right? Right. Good soup.
The Sandwich, though, I have been asked multiple times by -both- parents what the hell I did. It wasn't -so- bad.. really. *cough* I cooked up the one side, then flipped it over not really remembering the fact that the skillet got hotter the whole time, so the second side will take less time than the first. I'm drugged, gimme a break here. But so I -really- have to go to the bathroom and I'm like, "It'll only take a sec.." well, when I come back I look at the stove and there's some smoke coming out of the pan. Hhrm.. Its burning. I start walking that way to flip on the fan to draw said smoke away when the smoke alarm goes off. (Okay, so it was a lot of smoke.. ahem.) Its -really- loud and annoying, so my attention turns to it. I go grab the step-stool from the kitchen and take down the alarm and rip the battery out, Problem solved, right? Wrong. There's still a lot of smoke.. more than befo-.. OoOOh yea. The pan is still on the stove hot and burning. Damn that's a lot of smoke, I should open a window. SO, I go and open the slider door and the two windows in the kitchen, as well as making sure the fan is still on. Then I think for a second, Dad's gonna be mad that I have the windows and stuff open if the heat is on.. so, I go turn off the heat. Damn, that's -still- a lot of smok-.. The paaaan. Ohh yea.. By the time I get back to the pan, I have new charcoal to draw with. Eew. I take the pan off the heat, run water in sink and dunk. Ooh.. more smoke..
Did I mention that my dad never finished the piping from the fan at the stove to the outside of our house? *ahems quietly* The basement is a bad, -bad- place to be right now my friends.. bad.. bad place.
This is why I am -not- allowed to cook while I'm drugged. Heck, I'm not allowed to cook on a -good- day. We aaall remember the egg fiasco, and the powdered sugar blunder... surprisingly, those both happened within an hour of each other. Hrm.