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I will never again . . . (Part 2)


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At least  four times a month, I put a pan with a long handle on the oven.  Every time I put it in, I lay potholders on the counter.  I remind myself every time to pick up potholders before removing pan.  At least twice a month, I forget the potholders.

But, I wonder why I always remember the potholders when it is a casserole or something with little tiny handles, and never remember them when the handle is long.

A thought. Maybe you should scrunch some aluminum foil around the handle before you put it in, so that you'll pause before you grab it.

A brilliant, elegant idea. Thanks

Margaret McArthur

"Take it easy, but take it."

Studs Terkel

1912-2008

A sensational tennis blog from freakyfrites

margaretmcarthur.com

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At least  four times a month, I put a pan with a long handle on the oven.  Every time I put it in, I lay potholders on the counter.  I remind myself every time to pick up potholders before removing pan.  At least twice a month, I forget the potholders.

But, I wonder why I always remember the potholders when it is a casserole or something with little tiny handles, and never remember them when the handle is long.

You could get some of These - Max Temp Handle Covers

glue a magnet onto the tip of each one and when you put a skillet into the oven put the handle holder on the oven door across the opening or the handle so you will have to move it to open the door.

I have some made of Nomex which can go right into the oven and while they get warm, they are not uncomfortable to grab, however they were rather expensive.

Sur La Table did have one that was cloth on the outside, silicone on the inside but I don't know if they still have them.

I saw some at Linens 'N Things that were just silicone but they weren't very big, only about 4 or 5 inches long and to me didn't look that useful.

"There are, it has been said, two types of people in the world. There are those who say: this glass is half full. And then there are those who say: this glass is half empty. The world belongs, however, to those who can look at the glass and say: What's up with this glass? Excuse me? Excuse me? This is my glass? I don't think so. My glass was full! And it was a bigger glass!" Terry Pratchett

 

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I will never again put a baking dish in the sink and start to run cold water in it while thinking the sooner I get it soaking, the better chance I have to get all the baked on fish skin off of it without also thinking hey, that's glass, maybe the shock wouldn't be good for it.

Thank goodness I put it in the side of the sink without the garbage disposal. It still wasn't fun picking shards of Pyrex out of the sink.

Marcia.

Don't forget what happened to the man who suddenly got everything he wanted...he lived happily ever after. -- Willy Wonka

eGullet foodblog

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I don't think I could do this again if I tried. Last Saturday, I was boiling eggs for potato salad, marinating chicken and putting together a lasagne--all while hurrying to try to beat the rain so I could mow the lawn.

I noticed a curl of smoke near the stove and saw that the egg carton had been too close to the gas flame and had begun to burn in a sluggish way. It was just a tiny burn, about the size of a nickel. I pinched it out with my fingers and put the carton away in the refrigerator.

Fifteen minutes later, eggs boiled and peeled, I went to the fridge for mayo. Still in overdrive, I grabbed it open, grabbed the mayo, and slammed it closed...only to realize that a waft of SMOKE had come out with the mayo...??? I open it back up and yanked out the eggs. Sure enough the carton had continued to burn...had actually burned about a third of itself away. :blink:

I put the dumb thing under the faucet and black ash littered the bottom of my sink. Finally my little personal conflagration was contained. But that was not the end of it.

The fifteen minutes of smoke had had its effect inside my refrigerator. The whole thing stank of it, including the bowl of baby greens and the ice cream in the freezer part. The steelhead steaks were the only things to actually benefit.

I had to add wiping out my refrigerator with baking soda water to the list of chores that were keeping me from getting outside. BUT!!! I DID get the lawn mowed. It was just DARK when I finished. :rolleyes::rolleyes::rolleyes:

Catherine

Edited by Peachpie9 (log)
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  • 3 weeks later...

Chalk up another one for bare hand on hot pan handle.

Saturday night.

Remembered to use towel to take it out of oven and put on stove. Turned away. Put towel down. Turn back to stove. Grab pan. Ouch.

Managed not to drop dinner. Ate dinner with hand in pitcher of cold water. Went to emergency room. Second degree burns. Two Percosets. Felt MUCH better.

No pain Sunday morning, just some nice blisters. Feel very lucky.

PS - Dinner was very good.

If someone writes a book about restaurants and nobody reads it, will it produce a 10 page thread?

Joe W

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Oh, this thread is brilliant. Reminds me of so many things.

me, as a child: instead of half a teaspoon of baking soda in sugar cookies, adds half a cup.

me, just this year: remembering while chopping a shallot that I should be wearing my contact lenses so I won't cry, so head to the bathroom to put them in... cry a lot more with the shallot juice in my eye than I would have if I'd just kept chopping.

my mother: making apple-black walnut cake, reaches into the fridge for apple schnapps, grabs the wrong bottle, pours a cup of Everclear corn alcohol into her batter.

my father: attempts to flake the meat out of some crab legs with a Swiss Army knife, slips, slices open the base of his thumb. Irony: two hours before he had been demonstrating to my uncle how to flake the meat out with a fork.

Cooking and writing and writing about cooking at the SIMMER blog

Pop culture commentary at Intrepid Media

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Back in my restaurant days (daze), I put a pinch of ground dried hot red pepper into the calamari salad marinade just before service. Another thing I always did just before service was relieve myself because I knew I wouldn't be able to do it during service. I always washed my hands after using the bathroom but this particular time I didn't wash them before. "Chemical Burn Johnson" eventually lost out to "Wang Aflame" as the name for this phenom.

Snozberry. Who ever heard of a snozberry.

-Veruca Salt

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When one of my sisters was really little, she was opening a can of corn. She reached in to pull the lid out and, instead, got a trip to ER and several stitches.

To this day, I still think "I have to pull this out with a knife or a fork. Otherwise, I could end up needing stitches."

(I guess that's more of a "I'll never do what she did again.")

Misa

Sweet Misa

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put warm chocolate into a balloon and blow it up.....

I am really curious about this one... not only to know what the aftermath was, but what you were trying to accomplish in the first place...

He don't mix meat and dairy,

He don't eat humble pie,

So sing a miserere

And hang the bastard high!

- Richard Wilbur and John LaTouche from Candide

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My guess is that he was trying to make a chocolate balloon by using the balloon as a mold.

"If you hear a voice within you say 'you cannot paint,' then by all means paint, and that voice will be silenced" - Vincent Van Gogh
 

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I will never again ...

... add handfuls of chiles to a chili without tasting them first, or at least having an inkling of what they taste like, especially if I'm thirteen years old and think that since "habanero" sounds Spanish, it's pretty much the same thing as "jalapeno."

... decide that since that splash of rum was good in the chili last time, this time I'll just substitute rum for the water, making it proportionately even gooder.

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Turn on an oven without looking inside---especially a strange one. Years ago, we were asked to house-sit a lovely, huge old home for an older couple for their Winter visit to Florida.

They showed us around, made us free with all kitchen supplies and appliances, packed up and went on their way. Several weeks into the 3-month term, their daughter came to town to visit friends, and naturally, stayed in "her" room while she was here. I cooked all the meals, and used the smaller of the two ovens in the huge old Garland range. We would be in and out, and during her week's stay, she was mostly at home, lounging in front of the TV, or on the phone with local friends from the time she lived here.

A few days into her visit, I noticed that there were not so many dishes in the cabinets as there had been, and I was keeping careful note of any loss or breakage. I assumed that she was trekking off to her room with a snack or her dinner which she prepared while we were out, but I certainly did not want to invade the privacy of her room, even in her absence from the house.

After she left, there was still a mysterious shortage of plates. We gave a dinner party for several couples who had been wanting to see the house, and when I turned on the larger oven, it began to emit a strange odor, then an odd cracking noise. I opened the door to find NINE---count 'em--NINE dinner plates and assorted bowls and glasses---all encrusted with crackly smears and blobs and charred bits of food---most recognizable as dessicated egg yolk.

The lazy beast not only did NOT help with any dishes during her visit, she stashed her sneaky empties to grow mold and be a nasty surprise. Yeep. :angry:

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Never again...Neglect to taste chocolate before using it, no matter what the label says. My husband purchased a large hunk of Callebaut that was labeled bittersweet, which was what he needed, to make a Chocolate Oblivion Truffle Torte (3 ingredients: chocolate, eggs, butter). When I sampled the batter after he put it in the oven, something didn't taste right. We picked up some shards and tasted them. The store had mislabeled the chocolate - it was unsweetened. Disappointed a buncha people at a Passover seder that year. No amount of whipped cream or raspberry sauce helped. It was basically inedible.

And, never again ignore pan size. This after a Moravian Sugar Cake - the topping is nothing but butter and brown sugar, a lot of it - overflowed onto the bottom of my oven and caught fire. Shooting flames. At 10 p.m. on a January night.

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I put my starter to ferment in the oven with just the light on after feeding it and then forgot that I had put it in there. A few hours later I decided to just make a pizza with the dough I had made with the starter and I cranked the oven to 600 degrees. It didn’t take long for the starter to remind me where I had put it…

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Fifteen minutes later, eggs boiled and peeled, I went to the fridge for mayo.  Still in overdrive, I grabbed it open, grabbed the mayo, and slammed it closed...only to realize that a waft of SMOKE had come out with the mayo...???  I open it back up and yanked out the eggs.  Sure enough the carton had continued to burn...had actually burned about a third of itself away.  :blink: 

Wow. That is so weird it is actually impressive.

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I put my starter to ferment in the oven with just the light on after feeding it and then forgot that I had put it in there. A few hours later I decided to just make a pizza with the dough I had made with the starter and I cranked the oven to 600 degrees. It didn’t take long for the starter to remind me where I had put it…

I've always feared doing something like that, so I hang a tea towel over the oven handle to remind me when there's something in there I don't want to bake.

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Since I was only five or six years old, I suppose I can be forgiven. Someone had given my mother all of these beautiful brightly colored elongated peppers, yellows, oranges, reds, greens. So pretty. Well I climbed up on the table next the sink they were sitting it. Oh boy, play time. There was a mirror over the sink. Oh look at me with a pretend orange moustache, red and green chili earrings. Wow, when I suck in my tummy I can actually see my ribs (haven't seen those for a long time). Probably a good time to vigorously rub BOTH eyes with my unwashed hands.................. Oh no. :shock: I'm amazed that I still grew up to be an avid foodie. My mom would have probably said it was amazing I grew up at all.

Another childhood memory, though I was much older by then. I was making scrambled eggs for my mom for Mother's Day. Reached for the canister of Accent (monosodiumblechyuck) instead of salt. A taste that will make you tremble.

Fast forward several decades. My incredible decision that the bechamel/cheddar cheese sauce for mac and cheese I was making wasn't simmering quickly enough, so I decide to help it out by turning up the heat. You know what's coming. Burnt cheese sauce, not just on the bottom, but permeated the entire pot. Had to throw it out--at least one and a half quarts of milk, 1 lb. of good cheddar and jack cheeses. Still kicking myself. :angry:

Inside me there is a thin woman screaming to get out, but I can usually keep the Bitch quiet: with CHOCOLATE!!!

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I will never again space out while I'm grinding coffee to take to work...

and dump the freshly ground coffee in the bag with the beans...

I always attempt to have the ratio of my intelligence to weight ratio be greater than one. But, I am from the midwest. I am sure you can now understand my life's conundrum.

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I'm happy to say that I don't have to claim this one. It belongs to my ex-husband and our roommate at the time (many years ago).

There was some ad running on TV then that featured a summer sausage exploding in a microwave. Our Heroes, watching TV, see this ad, look at each other and think - "Hey! We have a summer sausage AND a microwave!" Off to the kitchen they go. To their disappointment, the summer sausage merely cooks in the microwave - no explosions.

Not to be thwarted, they analyze. Let's see - sausage doesn't explode because it isn't a truly sealed container. What can we cook that IS a completely sealed container - how about an egg? Yeah, that'll work.

Sure enough - the egg explodes - creating the most disgusting smell, the likes of which you do not ever want to experience.

Now enter me, returning from work. I come in, I take off my shoes - then I stop. "What is that smell?" I ask. The house smells strongly like lemon but with an icky sulphur aftertaste. The boys look at me innocently and shrug. I go into the kitchen, take one step (in my socks, remember) - and shoot across the incredibly slick floor and slam into the opposite wall!

The boys, being the responsible types that they were, cleaned up the exploded egg mess, but of course, The Smell remained. So, thinking quickly, they employed Lemon Pledge as an air freshener - sprayed liberally all over the top of the linoleum flooring in the kitchen! Voila! Instant waxed floor.

Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body...but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, wine in the other, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming "WOO HOO what a ride!"
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Need a bottle of red wine to go with my beef for dinner, something good and robust, search through my dimly lit wine rack, ah! this one says "Pinot Noir" on the label, sweet. Pop the cork, pour into the glass... gee, this pinot's awfully pale and pink, that's kind of strange, let me look at the bottle again. Well, the color would be explained by the fact that it's a ROSÉ of pinot noir... not reeeeeeeeeeally going to work with the beef. Better make good vinegar....

Food, glorious food!

“Eat! Eat! May you be destroyed if you don’t eat! What sin have I committed that God should punish me with you! Eat! What will become of you if you don’t eat! Imp of darkness, may you sink 10 fathoms into the earth if you don’t eat! Eat!” (A. Kazin)

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Need a bottle of red wine to go with my beef for dinner, something good and robust, search through my dimly lit wine rack, ah! this one says "Pinot Noir" on the label, sweet.  Pop the cork, pour into the glass... gee, this pinot's awfully pale and pink, that's kind of strange, let me look at the bottle again.  Well, the color would be explained by the fact that it's a ROSÉ of pinot noir...  not reeeeeeeeeeally going to work with the beef.  Better make good vinegar....

Or just finish the rest off while you cook the beef ;)

He don't mix meat and dairy,

He don't eat humble pie,

So sing a miserere

And hang the bastard high!

- Richard Wilbur and John LaTouche from Candide

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