Please forgive me for being so domestic that all I blog about (mostly) is the house, cooking, gardening and the dog. The end.
Now onto my story of the day (my poor co-workers always have to hear these). Prince Charming has invited an old coworker over for dinner, so I spent a large chunk of this week contemplating what to do for dinner. I settled upon using the pork tenderloin roast we got to be the main course. Because I love the ease of the slow cooker (add food, turn on, do other stuff, serve) I was resolved that I would use it to cook the meat. That way I didn’t have to worry about, you know, actually roasting the roast.
This morning, I took out the roast, browned it on all sides, then went to take the Crock Pot down from it’s spot. If you haven’t seen pictures of my kitchen, you will just have to believe me when I say it’s small. In terms of modern kitchens, that it. We have super limited counter space so I have to be inventive with where things are stored. The toaster oven and microwave both live on top of the refrigerator, side-by-side. The coffee pot lives on the counter next to the bucket of cooking utensils. The dish rack and my butcher block cutting board also usually are on the counter. Anyhow, that means the Crock Pot, which I use fairly often, lives on top of the toaster oven, on top of the ‘fridge.
The whole appliance living situation has never been a problem including the stacked stuff on the ‘fridge. But this week, I used the toaster oven at least once to broil (the highest heat setting) dinner. I didn’t even think about anything being wrong with that, because I’ve used the toaster oven while stacked before.
So, I brown my meat and go to take the slow cooker down… but it’s stuck. My brain says, “Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap.” I tug. Finally I have to go get a chair to stand on to make sure I don’t topple everything– that’s when I see the damage I’ve done to my poor, loyal Crock Pot. Two of his feet were melted into blobs and even his electrical cord had some exposed wire!
Any sane person would promptly call this a lost cause and find a plan B. However, that’s not me. My plan B called for electrical tape. I went and got the electrical tape from the garage (in white so you can’t tell) and wrapped the electrical cord. I know, I know, still not safe… but safer! Then I wrapped the little disc feet because two of the three were melted and it made the whole thing wobbly. Once repaired, I added my meat and stuff, left for work, and hoped my house didn’t burn down.
Good news! My house is still here, and the pork roast is cooked. Whew. Oh, and I didn’t tell Prince Charming because I know he’d scold me for doing that. But now I have an excuse to get a new Crock Pot… one day…