Classic Sooz

What happened to me in the kitchen last night deserves a post: It will not include an explanation, but it will certainly define what happens when your mind is not on the food you are attempting to cook. It is the essence of hilarity ensuing.

The evening began with a shopping trip. Alfredo Sauce? Somehow, after visiting 4 different stores, I came home with only
1)milk
2)mushrooms
3)wine
4)grated parmesan-the kind in the shaker.

Thats it, folks. I had 3 cloves of garlic to use, so I started by putting them in a pan with olive oil (no butter!) and promptly burning them. To cool the burning garlic I did two things: 1)removed the pan from the stove and put it on the plastic cutting board which it promptly melted to. 2)pour cold milk over it. (The milk's purpose was not just to cool; it was supposed to be an ingredient in Alfredo sauce too.) It scalded into a pillow of white bubbles. I threw the whole thing in the sink. I decided to attempt it again. By attempt I mean REPEAT. Exactly the same way, folks. Except this time, instead of using fresh garlic (I was out) I used powdered, and instead of removing the pan from the heat to cool it, I just added the milk to the hot oil and wine. (Was I drinking the wine? Hardly (three sips). If I could blame alcohol for this I unabashedly would, but alas, the cause was not so simple.) My roommate watched as I stirred what looked like lemonade and cottage cheese. Near tears I asked him "Is this what curdled milk looks like?" (I knew it was.) I threw that one out.

Third times a charm, right? He told me to temper the milk and it went fine. Let me be more specific. I didn't burn the milk again. But when I added the powdered parmesan it did something I've never seen before, except perhaps in a movie about aliens. It turned into chunks of hardened brown rubber, that looked like the putty for fake noses (see: Nicole Kidman in The Hours). Despite its weirdness, this last version made it into our "supper."

But lets not assume the dish was "ready". Remember the pasta that I was inevitably cooking over another burner? And remember the glass of wine I was gently sipping from? Well, I took that pot of boiling hot pasta and WHISKED it over to the sink, in a perfect arc that included the wine glass. The glass shattered all over the floor, trapping my bare-footed self in the corner of the kitchen with a boiling pot of water in my hands. My roommate, battling with the "internet" (quotes denote non-connectedness) heard the crash and came to rescue (laugh at) me. Then, as we both broke into gut-wrenching, amazed laughter, I decided I had to get rid of that hot water. I decided to kind of POUR the water into the drainer. The drainer, wishing to get in on the "Erin's such a mess" fun, had propped itself not quite in the sink. So I poured Hot Boiling Water all over the shattered glass. My roommate took my arm, pulled it over his shoulder, and carried me out of the kitchen.