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After killing Jason off and countless screaming Argonauts
And tonight ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rushthatspeaks and I were having a perfectly lovely time making hamburgers right up until the moment the microwave caught fire.
We're fine. The microwave is kaput. We still aren't quite sure what happened, except that it was set on a two-minute timer, there was nothing in it, and all of a sudden it poured smoke and smelled like an electrical fire, which I presume was actually what happened. We opened all the windows and turned on all the fans and tried not to breathe the smell of melting plastics. The microwave is no longer pouring smoke; it is unplugged andgaudior has been cautioned not to use it for God's sake when they get home.
The hamburgers came out great. We cooked them in a frying pan and ate them in layers on Portuguese sweet bread with avocado slices, the last of the goat's milk gouda, and homemade spicy mayo. It turns out that if you don't have Worcestershire sauce to mix with the ground beef and instead substitute a few drops of garum, the result is a hamburger that tastes indefinably better in all directions. This was not my planned first use of an ancient Roman condiment, but on reflection I feel it was almost certainly appropriate.
I admit I would have enjoyed eating dinner on the relaxed schedule we had imagined, instead of the aftermath of a kitchen filled with chemical smoke. I know the universe has laws of conservation of perversity, but it would be fine with me if the rest of the night did nothing exciting at all.
rushthatspeaks and I were having a perfectly lovely time making hamburgers right up until the moment the microwave caught fire.We're fine. The microwave is kaput. We still aren't quite sure what happened, except that it was set on a two-minute timer, there was nothing in it, and all of a sudden it poured smoke and smelled like an electrical fire, which I presume was actually what happened. We opened all the windows and turned on all the fans and tried not to breathe the smell of melting plastics. The microwave is no longer pouring smoke; it is unplugged and
gaudior has been cautioned not to use it for God's sake when they get home.The hamburgers came out great. We cooked them in a frying pan and ate them in layers on Portuguese sweet bread with avocado slices, the last of the goat's milk gouda, and homemade spicy mayo. It turns out that if you don't have Worcestershire sauce to mix with the ground beef and instead substitute a few drops of garum, the result is a hamburger that tastes indefinably better in all directions. This was not my planned first use of an ancient Roman condiment, but on reflection I feel it was almost certainly appropriate.
I admit I would have enjoyed eating dinner on the relaxed schedule we had imagined, instead of the aftermath of a kitchen filled with chemical smoke. I know the universe has laws of conservation of perversity, but it would be fine with me if the rest of the night did nothing exciting at all.
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Thank you! We were very relieved. There was a point where we were trying to make sure the hamburgers were still all right, but of course neither of us could smell anything other than burnt microwave.