Monday, February 24, 2014

On Fire

A funny thing happens when you walk in on a kitchen fire. You don't immediately go into problem-solving mode, you go immediately into blame-assigning mode. And suddenly, you will forget 100% of everything you know about fire.

I was literally boiling water when I started a small fire tonight. I set my teapot on the burner, turned up the heat and went back to laying on the couch and watching Food Network. It was like I could SMELL the food that they were making on Worst Cooks in America (seriously...could there be any more relevant show for me to be watching?) Wait, that's not the TV. That's real life. Something was burning.

At first I was like, "I'm only boiling water. What could be burning? I'll just ignore it." So I ignored the blatant burning smell for like 3 more minutes until I was like "Wow. That's just getting burn-ier." I rolled off the couch and strolled into the kitchen. The front burner was COMPLETELY on fire.

As soon as I saw the flames, I thought "WHAT DID GEO SPILL UNDERNEATH THE BURNER!?" I ran over to the fire and then just stood there. The flames were shooting up around the teapot and I could not, for the life of me, figure out what to do.

The last time I started a kitchen fire, I was attempting to make wontons. I poured about 3 cups of oil into a pot and cranked the heat up to 11. Now, oil doesn't boil like water. Instead, it starts on fire. And then it's not the same kind of fire you throw water on. It's an oil fire. So when my pot was completely engulfed with flames, I grabbed the handle and moved it to the counter...there was a permanent black ring on the counter to serve as a constant reminder that I should not boil oil. Luckily, I was so scared of the fire, that I just brought the pot outside instead of throwing water on it. Outta sight, outta mind. The flames died down, and the house was still standing.

So tonight when I saw the flames, I thought "I'll just bring the teapot outside!" So I did, but that didn't do ANYTHING because it was not the teapot that was on fire. It was the stove. I went back to the fire and just stood there, blowing on the fire. Blowing and blowing. And the fire got bigger and bigger.

I think it was at that moment when the panic actually set in. "I DON'T OWN THIS HOUSE. I COULD BURN IT DOWN AND IT'S GOT ALL MY BEST STUFF IN IT!" I kept blowing on the fire while trying to reach for a towel. I see people smother fire with towels all the time! But I couldn't find one. I ran away from the fire to go back outside to get the teapot so I could dump water on the fire. (What's that? The sink was 6 inches away from the fire and I could have just used that? Screw you.)

When I got back to the fire, it was still going and I just stood there, holding a burned teapot full of water, and just went back to blowing on the fire. Eventually -- and mercifully -- the fire started going out.

Geo got home shortly after I nearly set our house on fire and then saved our lives and he goes "Whoa! What's burning!?" And I said "I don't know, whatever you dropped into the burner last night?! GOSH!" And then Geo said "Sorry, what were you making?" And I said "Water." And he said "Wow."

Anyway, I'm never cooking again and I'm going back to using my Keurig for tea. And somehow pasta.

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