Ok, maybe “Catastrophe” is a strong word. But, it kind of felt like one. Many of you know that I use my oven every day out of the year (with the exception of when we are out of town….or I am using the crock-pot). And many of you know, I make some PRETTY AMAZING BROWNIES. I am known for my awesome brownies. Well this weekend it happened….the “catastrophe”.
We were having dinner with a family friend at my parents house with my sister and her family. I was responsible for the brownies. I was so proud of these brownie baking skills I have developed over the years. But as I was baking the brownies, something seemed off. The brownies had been baking for an hour and a half. The top was cooking….cooking too well, really… and the bottom was raw. I thought to myself, I’ll turn off the oven and allow them to finish cooking slowly and they should be fine.
Well, as we are getting ready for dessert, my sister and I are scooping ice cream and I am cutting my famous brownies. I told my sister that they would probably be bricks (considering I am really struggling to cut them) and they just didn’t turn out like my brownies normally do. We laughed because of my over confidence in my brownie skills. Well, as I tried to scoop out the first brownie to place it on the plate with the ice cream, laughter and shock took over the kitchen. The top of the brownies were hard as rocks, but the bottom was hardly cooked. My famous brownies looked more like lava cake. Yep! My famous brownies were lacking in their usual AWESOMENESS!
After the dinner party, we came home to inspect the oven. (Don’t pay attention to the messy oven. It is well used… and due for a cleaning….)
BETRAYAL! My oven betrayed me. I was hurt! I have treated this oven with love. Lots of love. Giving it many challenges to bake to perfection. Always being a team player. Giving it the love and respect it deserved. And this…this is how it repays me.
Monday morning, after I was ready to forgive my oven, I took on the job of fixing it. Maybe my oven didn’t mean to betray me. Maybe it was hurt and it didn’t know how to tell me. Maybe it was really an accident instead of treachery. Either way, I was ready to help my oven. It was pretty easy to fix. Remove two screws, pull the connectors off and remove the broken heating element.
My poor oven had a rough time. I could almost hear it scream as I gently removed the wounded part. Before I could replace the part and make my oven new, I took the opportunity to give her a good cleaning. I sprayed and scrubbed until she was clean and refreshed.
I replaced the connectors and turned on the oven. I talked her through the process and told her I was sorry for losing my temper with her. She forgave me and lit up that new element like the good reliable partner that she is!
The moral of this story is 1- Don’t jump to conclusions. 2- There is nothing more humbling than a broken oven knocking you down a peg or two when it comes to one’s ego.
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