When I couldn't sleep last night, I was blog lurking (so creepy, I know). I stumbled across Food Nerd and saw this contest that she's hosting. She wants to hear about your kitchen/cooking/baking mishaps. I thought I'd play along, so happy reading.
My mom comes from a family of five kids. To make the holidays easier, they rotate who hosts each holiday. Seven years ago my mom's younger brother (B) and his wife (D) were hosting thanksgiving. D is slightly anal retentive and type A (who does that remind you of?!?!) so holidays at their house always resembled something out of M*rth@ Stew@rt Living . They had recently redone with kitchen, gourmet and lovely, but there had been a problem with the oven. They had a cook top with a seperate oven, but somehow an oven-meant to be a wall mount, got installed. Picture this: really low to the ground, on the smaller side, not practical. That being said, it clearly wouldn't do for hosting a holiday for 25.
B & D's neighbors were away for the holiday and graciously offered up their ovens (they had a double wall mount). D took full advantage of this and sent the men (i.e. my dad and 3 uncles) over to their house to turn on the oven and put in the turkey. Not thinking much of it, she went about cooking. She used her oven to warm things like potatoes, pies, veggies, etc. She was very busy in her kitchen so she kept sending the guys over to baste the turkey, etc.
As the hours passed, then men kept drinking, D kept cooking, the crowd was getting hungry. About the time the turkey should have been done, D was putting the veggies and potatoes back into the oven to warm them up. That's when she got the call. D had sent my mom over to the house to get the turkey (the men were too engrossed in the football game). Then guys had turned on the top oven and put the turkey in the bottom oven. Now as I mentioned, the oven in D's kitchen was really low to the ground. She left the veggies and potatoes on the door to answer the phone and got a little distracted...actually I'm pretty sure she flew off the handle and this is what we heard, "B! What the F***. @$*$ $*$(#(#* $*$$)$$, You totally #(#$& this all up. " She no sooner stopped yelling, but then turned around to see the dog, devouring the veggies and potatoes off the oven door.
Words cannot describe her facial expression. I cannot comfortably repeat what she uttered. My dad fixed D a very dirty martini and we pulled out the takeout menus. Definitely the one and only time in my life, I've eaten Chinese food on Faberage China. Don't worry D, I don't think M@rtha reads this blog...she won't think any less of you.
If you want to share your tales of kitchen mishaps, go here and play.