Em and Jeff's Adventures

The Joy of Baking

I really enjoy baking. I think it started when Tasha and I used to bake cookies in high school. Since I'm only teaching school and aerobics these days, I figured I could go to pastry chef school for fun. Except for one small detail--the community college doesn't have a pastry section in their culinary program. It was axed in a round of budget cuts eons ago. I'd have to drive to Portland for pasty chef school. Not worth it.

So, I just decided to bake more frequently.

I used Thanksgiving as an excuse to try tons of new baked goods. I figured I'd have a captive and willing audience. Everything went over very well. This is not a reflection on my baking ability--I bake as pragmatically as I cook. No improvising or fancy riffs here, just the careful execution of a good recipe. :)

Tomorrow is our secretary's birthday at school. As is true with most school secretaries, ours is the glue that holds the school together. The school secretary shares quite a bit of the administrative power with the principal. It's a weird job-share that secretaries don't really get recognized for, but should. Since I was privy to the secret birthday information, I decided to bake her something special.

I like to involve the kiddos, so I decided to bake a batch of chocolate chip cookies (the old stand-by) and bag them up in twos. I planned to send the kiddos in pairs to wish her Happy Birthday. I may even ask them to sing!

I was happily baking my first batch of cookies when Jeff called to tell me he was going out for a drink with the Wordos crew. (It's his science fiction/fantasy writing group. Aptly named.) While on the phone, the bottom of the oven BURST into flame. No joke. I'm not talking about small flames here. They were licking the bottom of the cookie sheet, which was in the center of the oven.

I informed Jeff, "The oven is on fire." Since I had him on the phone, I figured I should ask his opinion. "What should I do?" I inquired.

I know this seems like a weird question. But, I was thinking scientifically. I didn't necessarily want to open the oven door. The rush of oxygen might make the flames even larger and I didn't want to get burned. I happen to like my eyebrows, even if they are a little unruly.

Jeff suggested getting a paper towel to wipe the oven out and then decided that might not be the best idea. He also suggested turning the oven off, which I had already done. "I can't tell you what to do without seeing the flames." Jeff replied. Hmmm...

I bravely opened the door to the oven, the flames lept up, but not out, which was great. I removed the half-baked cookies. I closed the door to the oven to try to decrease the amount of oxygen in the oven. Still, smoke filled the entire house. I opened the front door, the door to the garage, the slider, and the window in the kitchen and proceeded to get down on my knees and use the front door as a bellows. I didn't want to take any chances standing up and inhaling toxic oven smoke. (Though, truth be told, it didn't smell too badly.)

After the flames extinguished themselves, I wiped out the bottom of the oven. Who knew that turkey grease was so potent?! Next year, I think we'll invest in a solid roasting pan rather than going the aluminum pan route. Apparently it leaked.

The cookies are now baked and cooling. Eyebrows are in tact. Pride, not too terribly damaged.

I'm left slightly wishing for a self-cleaning oven. However, this one works fine and we get lots of compliments on our retro kitchen (as if we designed it that way on purpose rather than inherited forty-year old appliances). The whole incident gives me a new appreciation for how my eighty-odd year old grandmother dropped the oven door on her shin. I only hope to avoid that fate for a few more years.

posted by Tobias Arthur @ 11:49 PM