So here’s what I made for dinner tonight:
That’s, um, aluminum soup on the burner. I’d had a burst of energy and decided to make quiches for dinner – one with artichoke hearts, the other with asparagus. I put the pot on the burner, cranked it up to high, chopped the asparagus, and went to dump it into the pot.
That’s when I saw the pot was empty. I’d neglected to add water. (What was that about my beautiful brain?)
I picked up the pot to rescue it from the heat, and the aluminum soup spilled out in a big glop. The aluminum layer sandwiched between two layers of stainless steel had liquified, expanded, and popped the bottom off the pan.
The blobular aluminum was shiny and pretty, in a perverse way:
Now, the good news is that this stove is 25 years old. It bakes unevenly and I’ve been jonesing for a new one ever since we bought this house nearly seven years ago. I know we could just replace the burner, but maybe this is the nudge I need to do a little research and buy a new range. Any suggestions? Past negotiations on this have always hit a stalemate because I long for a gas stove, while my husband wants something like a ceramic top that’s easy to clean. As you can see, he’s not being unreasonable – not at all.
The other reason I can’t be upset about this is that I’m ecstatic about the surge of energy behind this kitchen fiasco. Yesterday I rode my bike to work and was pretty useless for the rest of the evening. Today I felt strong enough to bike to work again, and I still had enough oomph to embark on cooking a real dinner for just the second time since I fell sick on January 20.
As for the quiches? They were delicious.