Sunday, December 10, 2006

Bake Much?

The cookie baking process started yesterday. I still can't find the recipes from my Mom, but I did find the original book they came in, so all is not lost.

Obbie requested chicken corn soup, so while I was being all domestic, I thought I'd make chicken stock from scratch for the soup. It's not that hard, really. Just the whole dealing with yucky whole chicken breasts gives me the heebie-jeebies.

Anyway, the stock got made, but as I was putting the stockpot into the fridge to cool, a large container of leftover tomato soup fell out and exploded on the kitchen floor. At the same time, a bowl of turkey gravy (why we still had it, I don't know) started sliding out of the fridge, and threatened to fall into the stockpot. Luckily, I was able to grab that before it fell, and didn't drop the stockpot.

This was foreshadowing, but I didn't think about it as the time. I set off to make the next batch of peanut butter blossoms. (The ones w/the Hershey kiss in them) La, la, la...happy, happy....I'm getting the first pan of hot cookies out of the oven, and I knock the timer off the top of the oven, INTO the hot oven. Of course, it rolls UNDER the hot burner, where it starts to melt, and burning plastic smoke fills the kitchen. So there I am, hot pan of cookies in one hand, not yet baked pan of cookies in the other, a kitchen timer on the burner of the oven, smoking like crazy, seconds away from bursting into flame. I throw done the hot cookies on the kitchen table, the unbaked pan on top of the stove, grab the tongs our of the sink, and rescue the timer in the nick of time. I'm standing there with a smoking timer in my tongs, and theres a knock at my door. Nobody ever comes out here, especially at 2:00 in the afternoon, so it was somewhat of a surprise. Fortunately, the mailman was unfazed by me in my jammies holding a pair of tongs with a smoking kitchen timer clutched in them. (And the haze of burnt plastic smoke perfuming the air) Lovely. He got the signature he was seeking, and after giving me (and the tongs) a look, he got out of here. Hopefully, he'll tell it as a funny story at the next postal worker's meeting.

And thats that. I'm baking more cookies today. Or at least I set out to. I spent an hour on the phone with Organic Lisa, and now I'm being IMed by some kid from State College. It's been several minutes, and he hasn't asked me about my underwear, so it might actually be a civilized conversation.

But one never knows. Oh, and the attic squirrels must be bowling today. Thats a story for another time.

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