Saturday, April 7, 2012

So I set the oven on fire...

This week I had steaks thawed in the fridge. I planned on lighting the grill and seasoning those bad boys and having a wonderful dinner with big baked potatoes and a green veggie. But, as often happens here near the Windy City, it was a windy day. Too windy to grill. The grill would never stay lit long enough to cook them. And indoor cooking was out of the question. Cooking steaks indoors is now out of the question. Why? Because last time I made steaks indoors, I set my oven on fire.

It's one of those things that's not really funny, but it is funny. You can still be funny because I didn't set the whole kitchen on fire. Like when you slip and fall on your butt, it's not funny, but it is funny. Now if you'd broken a bone, it wouldn't be funny, but since you came out unscathed, it's kind of hilarious. Does that make sense?

Anyway, here's what happened. I had stopped at Howard's Meats with my buy one steak, get one free coupon. Yeah!!! I picked out some big porterhouse and New York strip cuts for my husband and sons. Six carnivore males in the house, so a dinner like this is a big deal. And for me, I splurged and got a delicate little fillet. A $10 fillet. Normally, I spend less than that to make an entire meal for the gang. I can whip up a pot of spaghetti, a meatloaf AND a batch of taco meat and it would probably cost less than this one steak. So, yeah...I was REALLY looking forward to it.

I fired up the broiler on my oven, which I hardly ever use. I had a large foil lined cookie sheet that I was using to put the steaks on and I cooked a couple at a time. After I'd made steak for all the boys, mine went in last. On the same cookie sheet that the others had cooked on that was by then very soaked in grease. After a couple minutes, I notice that the oven door is bright orange. Hmm...I think to myself. Ok, not sure what I was thinking. But, I opened the door to investigate. And yeah, there were some flames. So, I shut it and I look at the fire extinguisher sitting on top of the stove. And rather than take time to figure out how to get it to work, I call out the door to my husband who is in the garage. I call his name. No answer. I call it again. He answers. "Come in here," I yell. I didn't say it with enough intensity to get him running in there. For some reason I ran back over to the stove. Then I opened it back up to see...I don't know...if the flames had disappeared on their own. Duh? It was a little bigger. So, I run to the back door again and this time yell frantically, "The oven's on fire."

He comes running in and by then the top of the oven door is black and smoke is seeping out. He grabs the extinguisher directs a couple puffs and it's out. My hero. Once in a while being married to a firefighter comes in really handy.

He looks at me and says "Why did you open the door?" Oh, yeah, that is a big fire rule, isn't it? You don't give the fire oxygen so that it can spread. Ooopps. And I think I actually said, "To make sure it was really on fire." Or something ridiculous.

Now that it was out, it was okay to open the door. In the middle, covered in foam was my sad little steak, burned to a crisp. The oven now had a weird error message blinking. Hubby said that we'd clean it out later and hopefully everything would reset. Either that or we'd be getting a new oven. It was over. I figured we should get dinner on the table.

I sat at the table and overlooking the fact the mishap may end up costing us hundreds for a new stove, I shook my head in disbelief. That was a $10 steak. And how does it end up that everyone else has mouthwatering steaks sitting in front of them and mine is shriveled up and covered in extinguisher foam?

The kids were all very sweet and offered me their dinner. There was still plenty to go around. It was a delicious meal.

So, this is the ordeal that kept me from cooking my steaks indoors. I fear a repeat. The next day I was working late and the weather was milder and hubby cooked them for me -- outside on the grill. And I think that's where we'll cook all the steaks from now on.

Oh, and the next day, hubby disassembled the entire oven and cleaned every piece and got it working again. My hero.

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