Hello lovely people. I am just introducing a new idea to my blog. I will be doing pieces from time to time entitled Dear Diary. These pieces will all be true and hopefully amusing things that have happened in my life. Some may also just highlight the eccentricities of my mind. J There will be some old and some more recent. I am writing them in a diary format as if I had written them at the time.
The first ones are here for you to enjoy. They are together as they are two incidents of a similar nature and both funny. (Well I think so)
Dear Diary..... (2014 I think)
I had a little kitchen fire today but nothing to worry about. No one was hurt in the process and the only thing that really suffered was my new oven gloves which got a little singed. I have to say that I have been making raspberry buns since the age of 10 when we made them in home economics. Today I made them exactly the same as usual and used the nice new baking parchment I had bought.
About a minute or two into the cooking time, just as I was washing up, I could suddenly smell burning. I opened the oven door to be greeted by both trays of buns on fire. Grabbing the oven gloves I pulled out both trays and put the fire out with a tea towel. All was good and I managed to rescue a lot of the buns. I then transferred them to greased trays and put them back as I realised that the baking parchment may be the problem.
At this point you may be wondering what was funny. Well, The fire was in a circle round each of the trays and as I was putting out the flames a little voice in my head was singing “Ring of fire” by Johnny Cash, it was as much as I could do to stop myself downing my fire fighting implements and doing a little song and dance round the kitchen.
Dear Diary..... (Sometime in 1992)
A slight error in the cooking process occurred today when I was making dinner. Now in my defence it was rather late as my dinner companion did not arrive until 9.30pm and my cooking skills are usually quite good.
I made the lamb steaks, peas and mashed potato and arranged them all beautifully on plates then mixed and poured on the gravy. As the gravy hit the plate a moment of sheer horror and the smell of coffee hit my brain. Yes, I had made a jug of coffee not gravy.
My instant reaction was to grab the meat off the plates in a bid to salvage some of the meal. I then started laughing as I realised the total stupidity of what I had done (I believe I was over tired too)
Sadly my dinner companion was not amused and I ended up cooking the whole thing again, but I was having a quiet chuckle to myself while I cooked.