Since Jess has been busy with the U.S. Open and the new puppy, the rest of us have missed our weekly excuse to catch up and eat delicious food. (Also, our time to play with the puppies. We need our dog time.) My excuse for hijacking this particular week is that I just moved into my very own condo, making hijacking MND sound like an easy substitute for a housewarming party.
Invariably, when you move into a new place, you spend the next few months learning things.
For instance, it turns out that my kitchen window lets in ants. Given that the fan from the stove does not vent outside, this is unfortunate. It’s even more unfortunate to discover this when one has arrived home only half an hour before guests are to arrive. Oh well, lonza (which I was told would be even better with melon than prosciutto) and melon will keep people entertained for awhile, right? Fortunately, the ants are gone in time for me to begin cooking before anyone arrives.
Digression: I bake. Well, I used to bake a lot before I lived in an apartment with an oven that couldn’t hold a temperature. If it couldn’t be made in a toaster oven or a friend’s oven, I stopped making it. So, I’ve been super excited about the gas stove and functioning oven in my new place. Everyone else has been super excited that I’m starting to bake again.
Back to the main storyline: It turns out that the new oven has a safety feature which automatically shuts down the oven when it gets too hot, say when the broiler has been on for twenty minutes straight while one broils repeated batches of eggplant and summer squash for a casserole.
I discovered this when, with two guests already there and four more on the way plus a casserole and a crisp to be baked, the oven shut down completely, even the digital clock. According to my panicked scan, the oven manual does not mention this feature. I had a vague memory that the circuit breaker for the unit was in the garage, but really didn’t want to go down three flights of stairs unless absolutely necessary. So, we searched the closets just to reinforce that, yes, the circuit breaker really is in the garage. (Picture the movie Clue here). When the circuit breaker wasn’t flipped, we decided it had to be a safety feature. (Running back upstairs in a group.)
Luckily, after two more guests arrived, the oven turned back on. Time to pull out the appetizers and wine to keep people entertained while dinner finally cooks!
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