Tricky Treats

This dreadful installment is brought to you by Halloween, the scariest day of the year! Ha! Let’s be real. Every day is the scariest day of the year in my kitchen.

The task was simple. Make a spooky treat for my community group Halloween party. No big deal! I found some cute Pinterest ideas that looked so simple even I couldn’t mess them up, and moved boldly forward.

(Spoiler alert- I mess these up).

Here is what we are going for –

So cute, right?

Originally, I had planned to make homemade peanut butter thumbprint cookies. I’ve never made them before, but they look pretty simple. However, while meandering through the aisles of Walmart looking for all of the specific ingredients needed, I had come to my senses. I would use break and bake cookies, and then decorate them myself. So that’ll be a peice of cake. I start out feeling equally optimistic about the brownies, I usually do fine with box mixes! And since I’m doing break and bake cookies, this is going to be quick and easy.

<Insert witches cackle here>

I’m making a double batch of brownies, so per the box instructions, I mix both bags of brownie mix with eggs, oil, and water (per the recipe, doubled). I’m using 2 8×8 glass pans, which I coat with butter and dust with flour in hopes that I can slide the whole brownie out without cutting them.

I pop the brownies in the oven and set the timer. The box says 36-41 minutes for this size pan. I wonder if that changes when making two pans, so I make a mental note that they might need a little longer. Meanwhile, I break apart my sugar cookie dough. I line my cookie sheets with foil (less clean up, right?) and voila. Man, I’m so smart for getting break and bake!

<Insert looming scary music here>

Fast forward 40 minutes. I test the brownies with a toothpick, and it comes out gooey.

10 more minutes.

10 MORE minutes.

These brownies have now been in the oven almost 70 minutes, and I’m beginning to smell burnt edges. I really hope they’re done, because I’m taking them out.

I want to let the brownies get nice and cool so they’ll come out smoothly, so i aside them aside for a while. I put the cookies in the oven for 11 minutes, according to the instructions.

After 10 minutes, I check them just to be on the safe side! I open the oven, and find that the cookies are bubbling liquid in the middle and burning on the bottom.

<Insert psycho theme music here>

My heart sinks. What is happening?! Wait. Is this because of the foil?

Well, damn it.

I don’t have another shot at these, so I franctically pull the cookie sheet out and try to remove them so I can finish baking them without the foil, but they won’t move without breaking. Think fast, Katie!

I pull out a second cookie sheet and line it with foil, put it upside down over the cookies, and flip the whole thing. Once they’re upside down, I flip them back on to the first cookie sheet, sans foil. They break a little. A few have holes in them.

Whatever.

I give them 5 more minutes, and pull them out.

Yeah, I can’t use these.

At this point, I decide to get out of the house. I’m going to have to buy store bought sugar cookies (at least my brownies will be cute) and I promised myself I’d get out and vote today. When I come back, the brownies will be cool and I can decorate them. No big deal.

Fast forward two hours and one local election precinct later, I return to the kitchen. The brownies have cooled, so I carefully cut around the edges of the brownie pan and turn it over, anticipating one beautiful brownie to come sliding out.

Well damn it!!

Okay, what can I do with this mess?? I scrape the gooey centers out and put them in a mixing bowl. Here we go. I can do this.

Attempt #2: I remember someone once telling me that you can make truffles out of cake that doesn’t come out, I bet it will work with brownies too! I’ll make them look like eyeballs! Yes, this will be so cute! I mix in a little cream cheese frosting (leftover from my husband’s birthday cake last week) to give them texture and roll them into truffles.

This doesn’t work. This doesn’t work at all. This is a sticky gooey MESS! It’s not going to set into truffles. Unless…..

Attempt 3: I have a brick of melting chocolate in my pantry. I bet if I melt it down, dip the truffles in melting chocolate, and put them in the freezer, I can make chocolate covered brownie bites! Yes! I’ll make them look like eyeballs! This will be so cute!

This doesn’t work.

My husband arrives home about now, and finds me all but crying over my mixing bowl full of chocolate goo. My cookies were a failure, and my brownies were a failure. This isn’t the first time he’s found me like this, and as usual, he’s kind and patient and compassionate. He offers to finish my sugar cookie spiders while I vent and cry about my bad day. He also suggests we try baking up the brownie truffle mix one more time to see if it’ll set.

It doesn’t set. There are no brownies. The end.


Editors note:

Still me. I’m the editor.

In the end, Danny did an amazing job with the spider cookies, so much so I referred to him as Spider-Man (see what I did there???) I brought the not-brownies to the party, and my friend came up with a brilliant idea- BROWNIE DIP! We served it with nilla- wafers and tricked everyone into thinking this treat was intentional.

I do love happy endings.

———————-Katie

Pumpkin spice and nothing about this was nice

The first day of fall!

It may still be 95° in Tennessee, but I decided today that I would summon cool weather upon us by baking up a storm of fall inspired things! A few weeks back, I had made a loaf of pumpkin bread on a whim with an easy Pinterest recipe, and it turned out awesome, so I decided to spread my love of fall and bake some for my neighbors!

Now, I use the word “bread” very loosely, and I think you’ll see why when you read the following recipe, which comes by way of geniuskitchen.com:

Pumpkin Bread- No egg, dairy, or nuts

INGREDIENTS

3 cups flour

3 1/2 cups sugar

1 cup vegetable oil

1 (15 ounce) can pumpkin

1 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon

2 teaspoons baking powder

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 teaspoon ground cloves

1 teaspoon nutmeg

Yes, you read that correctly, THREE

POINT FIVE CUPS OF SUGAR! When I

made this last week, I halved the sugar

and it was plenty sweet, so I’ll do that

again today. Since I’m making a double

batch, I pull out my largest mixing bowl

(it’s purple) and begin to combine my dry

ingredients.

As I’m mixing, my husband calls to me from the other room and asks, while I’m already covered in flour and sugar, could I also maybe bake a cake for his game of Dungeons and Dragons? After all, today is the two year anniversary of this campaign, so there really should be cake, right? Naturally I say yes, because I’m that awesome.

Except we have no eggs. And I really had no business saying yes. I don’t make cakes. Who do I think I am, Jessica Chicago?*

I dig out the recipe for my grandmother’s applesauce cake, knowing it has no eggs (because she was allergic, like me). I’ve made this before, it’s simply and yummy and goes well with my fall mood. I speed- read through the ingredients, and realize it’s virtually the same thing I’m already making (with applesauce instead of pumpkin, but actually has LESS sugar, ha!) so I pull out my green mixing bowl, knowing full well there’s a very good chance I’m going to get these mixed up.

Purple for pumpkin, green for apple. I say it out loud 3 times. Purple for pumpkin, green for apple.

The pumpkin “bread” batter comes out beautifully, and I divide it into 4 loaf pans. It needs to bake for 60 minutes, and the cake only needs 45, so I have 15 minutes to get the cake ready to put in the oven.

Yeah, right.

I mix the flour and sugar, and as I try to cream the butter with the applesauce, I realize that you cannot, in fact, cream butter into applesauce. I had speed-read the recipe and it turns out, the butter was supposed to be creamed with the sugar, not the applesauce. I beat the mixture rapidly with a fork, and they join together about as beautifully as oil and water.

Once I get the liquid mixture semi-homogenized, I mixed it into the flour and sugar. I use every muscle in my arm to crank the wooden spoon and around, and slowly, it begins to mix together. Except, this mixture doesn’t even slightly resemble cake mix. It looks more like mud, and it’s incredibly sticky. Apparently, the order in which you combine the ingredients is -kind of- crucial in baking.

I set the sticky mess aside and contemplate starting over, but I’ve used up all the applesauce. In my pantry there is a box of spice cake mix, but again, I have no eggs. I’m allergic to eggs and my go to trick is to replace the eggs with……applesauce.

Sigh. I should’ve started with the box mix. Who do I think I am, Jessica Chicago?*

I return to the batter and mix it sheepishly as I grab my phone and call my sister, Jessica*, the baker. Surely, she can turn this around. But there’s no answer, I’m on my own here.

Mixing slowly, I add one tablespoon of water at a time until the mixture becomes semi-pourable, and that’s going to have to do. My husband asked for a cake, he didn’t specify “delicious” or even “edible”. It was supposed to fill two 8” rounds, but it barely fills one. Whatever. Into the oven it goes.

After the hour is up, I pull it all out of the oven. I put the cake into the fridge and walk the warm bread to my neighbor’s houses. I’m a hot mess when I get back, because “fall” in Tennessee is just a day on the calendar, and I had found myself cursing the whole endeavor under my breath as I’d sweat my way around the block.

I slap some canned cream cheese frosting onto the cake-thing and call it a day. As I clean up and rotate my sore mixing wrists, I remember something.

I have an electric hand mixer.

I’ve just made four loaves of pumpkin bread and an applesauce spice cake and it never occurred to my non-domesticated brain to pull out my hand mixer.

I hate fall.

(Note: In the end, the cake was a little dense and thin but overall still fairly tasty. As for the pumpkin bread, I never tried it myself, but one of my neighbors texted me later and thanked me, and said Lily liked it more than everyone else. I can’t remember for the life of me if Lily was the baby or the dog. I’m choosing to believe she’s the baby.)


Observations for next time:

Shop Kroger’s bakery

Be Jessica Chicago*

* http://www.facebook.com/Jessicachicagocreative

————-Katie

The Lo Mein Event

Hello, reader(s)!

Wow, it has sure been a while since I sat down to document a meal-gone-wrong! The truth of the matter is, I haven’t done much for exciting cooking these last few months. Since February I have had company visit twice, had the flu, had TWO sinus infections, visited my sister in Texas, and helped to plant a new church, so it’s pretty much been spaghetti and tacos every night this year!

Okay, that may be a bit of an exaggeration. But in what world would spaghetti and tacos every day be a bad thing?

(Funny update on this: WHILE composing this particular entry, I started a new job. How’s that for a wild spring??)

All that to say, when life is crazy busy, I don’t endeavor new recipes, and when I don’t endeavor new recipes, usually nothing interesting happens. Don’t get me wrong- in my absence from blogging I’m certain there have been a few things that made me laugh, or cry, or both, but perhaps not enough to earn your time. I suppose I could write about the time that I made breakfast muffins only to leave them out and have them spoil. Or the time that I made dinner for my new pastor and dumped potatoes ALL over the kitchen. Maybe you’ll hear about those another time. But, for today, we’ll stick with my latest endeavor-

The Lo Mein Event

As ordering emergency Chinese delivery has become a frequent event in my house, I have made the discovery that my husband really likes Lo Mein, whereas I’ve always gotten fried rice. The second or third or ninth time we got Chinese, I tried some of his lo mein and discovered that I also really like it! So, in honor of trying new meals, I decided to make my own lo mein (now, you’ll note that once you have all of the ingredients, this is not an expensive meal to make; that being said, I did not currently have any hoisin sauce or oyster sauce or sesame oil on hand. I remember thinking as I spent $14 on miscellaneous sauces for this one dang meal- my husband had better like this stuff because I’m making it once a week until all fourteen (five) of these sauces are gone!)

Well, here goes nothing!

Tonight’s meal is compliments of JoCooks.com, at https://www.jocooks.com/recipes/chicken-lo-mein/

For Sauce

* 1 tbsp brown sugar packed

* 2 tbsp soy sauce low sodium

* 2 tbsp dark soy sauce

* 1 tbsp oyster sauce

* 1 tsp hoisin sauce

* 1 tsp ground black pepper

* 1 tsp sesame oil

For Chicken

* 1 lb chicken breasts skinless and boneless, cut into small pieces

* 2 tbsp soy sauce

* 1 tsp fresh ginger minced

* 3 cloves garlic minced

* 2 tbsp olive oil

For Veggies

* 2 tbsp olive oil

* 2 cups shiitake mushrooms sliced

* 1 cup Chinese cabbage shredded

* 1 cup carrots julienned

* 1 large onion chopped

Other

* 16 oz ramen noodles or any other Asian style noodles

* 3 green onions chopped

I had the forethought to cook up chicken thighs yesterday (thank you, past Katie!) so I start by getting water boiling on the stove. I make spaghetti noodles all the time, how different can this be? Once the water is heating, I set to chop up my veggies. The recipe called for Chinese cabbage, shredded carrots, and mushrooms. My hubby won’t eat mushrooms and I’m using red cabbage my Kroger clicklist didn’t give me an option for Chinese cabbage. I set to chopping the veggies into tiny pieces, all the while I’m still confused by the cabbage, I mean, did they grow it in China? Is it Chinese American cabbage? Is that politically correct? Isn’t cabbage just cabbage?

It’s while I’m deep in tonight about cabbage fairness that I realize I’ve sliced the top of my index finger, and it has begun to bleed. Geez! I wrap my hand haphazardly in a paper towel and decide to just throw everything into the blender as I shamefully holler across the house to my husband to please bring me a Bandaid, which he does, and sweetly wraps my finger for me.

The blender stops screeching and I’m suddenly aware of a low hissing sound. Ugh. You know that old adage, ‘a watched pot never boils’? Turns out, a forgotten pot boils over immediately. Especially when you’re bleeding. Thank goodness, the Lo Mein noodles are packaged into neat little bundles. I throw two bundles into the angry pot and proceed to clean up the water that had spewed everywhere.

Five minutes later, I dump the pot into the colander, and grunt when I see that the noodles are clumped together in one solid chunk. Whatever.

By this point I’m pretty much over this meal, so I quickly mix the thirty (five) different sauces together and impatiently throw the noodles, veggies, sauces, and chicken into the wok, and use my cooking scissors to chop green onion right into the pan. I mix it all up, plop a few scoops into bowls, and put them on the table. That’s when the craziest part happens:

This. Is. DELICIOUS! Danny high fives me and gets himself a second helping.

Best compliment ever!

Observations for next time:

It was a little sweet, so I need to identify which of the 75 (five) sauces was sweet and use less

Stir noodles constantly and watch them like a hawk

START with the blender instead of the knife

——————–Katie

Cat Fried Rice (not really)

It’s a Friday night, and we are in the mood for some Chinese food! Given the recent events of the pot roast tragedies, I decide to give our local Chinese joint the night off and try to make something of my own. I mean, how hard can it be to make a little fried rice?

Bahahaha. I crack myself up.

I find a recipe with good reviews on Pinterest, from GimmeSomeOven.com (cute name, right?) I prepare my ingredients, minus the egg (I’m allergic) and the oyster sauce (seriously? Oyster sauce? I was willing to buy a bottle of sesame sauce to try this recipe out but I’m not buying that stuff. Sorry.)

I throw two cups of rice into my rice cooker (after nearly spilling it all over the kitchen….the Kroger bags of rice have the ziplock slider on the side of the bag….who’s idiot idea was that???) Next, I get out my wok- yes! I have a wok! I attempted to make a different fried rice recipe in my basic frying pan a year or so ago, and I think about 87% of it ended up on my stove top. I’m not even sure the remaining 13% was edible, but I wasn’t blogging back then so I guess we’ll never know (it probably wasn’t) and prepare my work space. Per usual, I don’t read through the entire recipe until I’ve already started pulling everything out, and it’s at this point that I realize I’m supposed to start with cold rice.

Hmmmm. This could be a problem. The rice is almost done cooking, but it’ll be a long time before it’ll be even remotely chilly, even if I stick it in the fridge. This is when I get a brilliant idea- I’ll put it outside! Nashville had been having a frightful cold snap, and the evening temperatures might just do the trick. The cooker clicks off, and I pull the bowl out and set it out on my back porch.

While the rice cools outside, I begin cooking up the chicken thighs in my cast iron skillet. This portion of prep is fairly straight forward and uneventful. Until, that is, my husband mentions that he hasn’t seen the cat in a while, and he’s right. The cat had been winding between my feet, asking for his dinner, and now he’s nowhere to be seen. After quickly scanning the house, we come to the conclusion that the cat had gotten out while I was setting the rice out. That’ll teach me to use nature in my cooking!

Fast forward twenty minutes. I return to my half cooked chicken that I cast aside when I left the kitchen and begin to slowly reheat the pan. I’m out of breath, because I’ve just scoured the entire neighborhood (the good news is, we found the cat, but I’m finding the irony in that I’m cooking Chinese food and starting to understand why they eat cats in China….). I finish browning the chicken, which is understandably sad and dry, and set it aside.

I heat my wok and slowly add in the veggies, soy sauce, and (semi-cooled) rice. I turn it over and over in the wok, still managing to get at least one serving’s worth onto the stove top. I stir, and I wait. Is this stuff actually supposed to fry? How do I know when it’s sufficient fried? I add the chicken back in, toss in the chopped green onion, and call it a meal. We serve up bowls full and plop down to watch Netflix as I realize I forgot to add the sesame oil.

Whatever.

Observations for next time:

Cook and cook the rice ahead of time

Don’t open the back door while cooking

Use sesame oil. Or don’t. I didn’t really miss it.

——-Katie

The Pot Roast Tragedies

This week’s blog post is brought to you in part by New China on Nashville Highway.

Hi friends!

Thanks so much for continuing to follow my sad stories. I hope they’ve made you laugh!

So, here’s something you might not know about me- I’m such a sucker for happy endings. Fairy Tales, Hallmark movies, that moment at the end of the RomCom when the music swells and everything comes together…it makes my heart happy and my eyes misty. So I feel inclined to give you a fair warning right now-

This story does not have a happy ending.

It’s a sunny Sunday afternoon, and I’m preparing to settle in for a Sunday nap. Per my usual ritual, I had planned a crock pot meal for today so that I can be as lazy as I please and have dinner ready for me when I wake up. This particular Sunday, I’m fresh off of 5 hours of serving at the church following a sleepover with some dear friends (yes, I have occasional sleepovers with my grown up, married/mom friends, and it is SO good for the soul….not as good for the sleeping habits), so I’m running on about 3 hours of sleep and about 6 cups of coffee.

I pull the roast out of the fridge and season it. I had picked up this particular cut of meat last week to prepare for Sunday dinner, but we ended up going on an impromptu date night in Nashville! My husband and I are such suburb-dwelling home bodies that it’s rare for us to get into the big city, so I was more than happy to wrap up my roast tightly in plastic wrap and freeze it for next week. Because meat works that way. Right?

Wrong.

Back to today. Fortunately I’d had the presence of mind to pull the roast out on Thursday, so it was completely defrosted (I really don’t think I’d feel good about microwaving a roast like I do with chicken in a pinch). Now usually, when I make a roast, I do some good prep work. I sear the meat in my cast iron along with the onions and then deglaze the pan with wine and add all of the smoky goodness into the crock pot before adding the beef broth, but remember how I only got 3 hours of sleep? Yeah, I’m not doing all that today. I chop the carrots, onion, and potatoes, season the meat with salt and pepper, and dump it all into the pot with beef broth, water, and a little fresh rosemary and thyme. I put the lid on, set dial on low, and hit the hay. Easy peasy. That’s the beautiful thing about pot roast, right?

Wrong. Enter the Pinehurst Curse.

I really, really don’t know how to explain this, but after 5ish hours on low, the potatoes are crunchy, the veggies are firm, and the beef is….leather. Rawhide. Cooked through completely, but 100% tough and even more tasteless. I cut off a chunk and try to shred it with a fork, and the fork bends.

We order Chinese food. The end!

Observations for next time:

Don’t have a curse?

——–Katie

Editor’s Note:

(Still me. I’m the editor.)

I know what you’re thinking. Yes, you, reading this post and coming up with reasons and preparing to give me advice; “Well, you probably used a bad cut of meat. Maybe it wasn’t really thawed all the way through. Maybe you should’ve put it on high.” And it’s okay, I don’t blame you for troubleshooting as you read! However, I’m editing this post because just yesterday I made a roast again. But this time, it was not frozen, I seared the meat, and cooked it on high. Last time must’ve been a fluke, this time dinner will be delicious!

Wrong. We ordered Chinese food. Again.

You just can’t make this stuff up.

Sloppy Joes Aren’t Healthy

Who doesn’t love sloppy joes? They are tangy and messy and just all around comfort food. We love sloppy joes, but I just can’t bring myself to serve Manwich in my house. It’s convenient, but that’s because it’s loaded with MSG and high fructose corn syrup. Plus, I’ve discovered that when I make it myself, I can pass it off as being semi healthy.

You all know how well things usually go when I make meals myself, but here we go.

Tonight’s recipe is from Allrecipes.com.

As my #goals blogger/chef/redhead, The Pioneer Woman, would say: Here’s our cast of characters:

Lean ground beef

Chopped onion

Chopped green bell pepper

Garlic powder

Yellow mustard

Ketchup

Brown sugar

Salt and ground black pepper to taste

Okay, so maybe ketchup and brown sugar aren’t the healthiest, but I do use organic ketchup, and real sugar > fake sugar.

In keeping with the healthier trend, I’m using ground turkey instead of beef today. I start the skillet warming, and I smile as I open the package, remembering that I got this turkey for half price because it’s was approaching its ‘sell by’ date. Bargains are my favorite.

I dump the ground turkey into the skillet and walk away to retrieve the green pepper and onion. I’m using my favorite cheat- frozen, chopped white onions from Kroger- so I only have to chop the pepper.

I turn back to stir the turkey, and find that the bottom is completely STUCK to the pan. I usually make this recipe with beef, and I’ve forgotten to spray the pan. Now I’ll admit, since I consider ground beef and ground turkey to be pretty much interchangeable, this is not the first time I’ve made this mistake. I can usually remedy it by mixing a little oil while scraping the pan.

This doesn’t work.

Scrambling, I reach for the packaging that the meat came in. Did I accidentally buy chicken? No, it is indeed turkey; It’s extra LEAN turkey. No wonder this stuff made it to the manager’s special shelf. Who needs EXTRA lean turkey? I scrape away as it continues to glue to the bottom of the pan and turn a very sad shade of white.

Moving on.

I add my chopped onions to the pan and turn to chop my bell pepper. Dicing peppers has been an easier task since my sweet cousin Rebecca showed me a neat trick at a family gathering a few years back (Here’s looking at you, Bec!), but alas, that doesn’t keep me from nearly slicing my thumb off as I quickly dice away. I take a minute to thank God for giving us fingernails. I toss the peppers in with the mixture, add the ingredients to make the sauce, and let simmer for 20 minutes as instructed while I toast some potato buns (I always eat the burnt ones, because I’m a good wife.)

We sit down to eat, and I’m able to pass off the fact that the bell peppers are still crunchy (after 20 minutes simmering!!!) as something about giving it “a little extra texture”. He smiles and thanks me. He’s a champ.

Observations for next time:

-Sugar is sugar. Stop pretending this meal is healthy.

-Add lots of oil when using turkey, so that the meat won’t stick and the peppers will soften.

-Heck, if you’re gonna make it, just get regular beef. It’s not healthy anyway.

-Chop a little slower. No, a lot slower.

————Katie

Snow Day En Flambé

Last week, we had a good old fashioned snow day here in middle Tennessee. While it’s not uncommon to get ice storms here, beautiful, fluffy snow falls are few and far between! My husband and I both had the day off, so we made the most of it. We watched movies and went sledding and the whole nine! What fun it was!

On to dinner.

I’m not one to run out and buy bread and milk when they’re calling for a light snow, but it did throw me a little bit that the biggest snow in two years happened on my regular shopping day. Maybe I should have braved the supermarket with the rest of the county, but it’s too late now. My meal plan for the week ran out yesterday, and I’m on my own.

I did a quick inventory of what I had on hand, and decided to go with meatloaf and baked potatoes. I was pretty sure I had enough of what I needed, although it there were enough variances that I probably wasn’t going to be able to follow a single recipe. I rarely do this, but snowy times call for desperate measures. It’s time to WING IT!

I use my hands mix the ground beef with diced onion (oh it’s COLD!) and I didn’t have any bell pepper, so this is just going to have to go without. I mix in the small amount of breadcrumbs that I have, and add milk and applesauce (in leiu of egg, I have an allergy, more on that another time) until the consistency seems right. I decide to make it up in muffin tins, since it should cut the baking time down by about half. Since I would only be baking the meatloaf for about 30 minutes, I pop the potatoes into the microwave for 4 minutes while the oven preheats.

I round the meatloaf into balls and drop them into the muffin tin, and once the oven has preheated, I roll the hot potatoes in oil and sprinkle with salt and pepper and throw everything in the oven and start working on the sauce. This sauce is made of ketchup, mustard, and brown sugar, and it’s incredible. Seriously, it’s one of the few things I love whipping up because I know I can’t mess up.

I pull the meatloaf out after 25 minutes, dollop the sauce on top and return it to the oven. I notice that the potatoes have nearly withered away to nothing, so I decide they’re probably done and I pull them out to cool. The meatloaf needs about 10 minutes more, and since I like to clean as I go, I begin tidying up the kitchen. Until I hear my husband hollering behind me.

THE OVEN IS ON FIRE.

Now friends, you’ll remember that I started a fire in my friend’s oven on New Year’s Eve, which is really what inspired me to finally start writing this blog. That fire was comprised of one, very cute little flame. THIS fire was not cute. This is the kind of fire you want roaring in your fireplace on Christmas Eve. This is the kind of fire that makes you want to roast marshmallows and sing camp songs. And it’s in my oven.

My husband and I scatter to find baking soda. After scouring the kitchen, pantry, and laundry room, we determined we were out! Fortunately, the fire went out on it’s own after whatever was burning burned up (apparently ketchup, mustard, and brown sugar makes a very flammable combination when it spills). I pullthe meatloaf out, open the back door of the house to release the smoke (also letting in a draft of unbelievablly cold winter air), and defeatedly hang up my apron.

However, as always, my sweet husband plated up the food and blessed it, because he’s the best. And here’s the funny thing:

It all turned out to be delicious!

Observations for next time:

Go out for bread and milk with all the rest of the crazies.

Don’t cook potatoes so long.

Line bottom shelf of oven with foil to catch super flammable sauces.

Buy more baking soda!

——Katie