Good glory. What an eventful early evening...
Last night's putluck theme was Australian food. My revised plan (since I was too lazy to go to E-Mart on Sunday) was to make
Yorkshire pudding since I had all of the ingredients on hand (flour, eggs, milk and salt.) Strike one for being a lazy bum.
Yorkshire pudding requires a pancake-y batter and a sizzling pan of oil in which to cook said batter. As I was making my batter, I discovered my eggs were frozen. Literally. (My fridge is on the fritz...) Strike two - frozen eggs do not a good batter make.
After I got the batter situation worked out, I decided to heat the oil. I settled on olive oil because I thought it might give the pudding a nice flavor, put a quarter cup of oil in an aluminum foil baking pan, set my toaster oven to 400 degrees and let the oil heat. I had mentioned to my friend Ben that I was nervous about making this because I'd never done anything like it before and, let's be honest, Noelle and hot oil are not a match made in heaven... Strike three - lack of self-confidence. (If you're keeping track, I'm out. Better luck next time.)
It wasn't until smoke began to come from my oven that I remembered olive oil has a low heating point and was actually a
terrible choice for this recipe. Just as I approached the oven to remove the pan and start over, the oil literally caught fire
inside my oven. Serious flames, people. The only thing I could do was laugh because I literally had no idea what to do. Ben jumped to it, though, recalling some serious seventh grade home-ec knowledge, asking if I had any baking soda. I retrieved my box and handed it to him because I was not the best choice for fighting a fire, trust me. As Ben gingerly sprinkled baking soda, the flames grew larger and larger. It was then that I remembered I had a fire extinguisher, but alas, no idea how to use it. Some Girl Scout I am. As I was around the corner getting the fire extinguisher, Ben sprayed my kitchen faucet hose toward the fire. I heard a loud noise which was obviously the fire growing before I heard complete silence and a sigh of relief from the kitchen. The fire was out and now we had to focus on the plethora of metallic scented smoke that was hanging in my apartment.
I had opened all of the windows, my front door and one window in the breezeway when I heard the fire alarm begin to sound in the stairwell. Oh good. That's just what I needed - a Korean fire department... I didn't know how to turn off the alarm so I went next door to Toni, thinking that maybe she'd encountered something like this in the seven years she's lived in Korea. I burst into her apartment, and began telling her and two of her friends who were coming to the potluck, one of whom I had yet to meet, all about my debacle, but in typical Noelle fashion - rapidly, mildly hysterically and probably leaving out major details. They stared at me with blank faces before Toni said, "Well, help her!" As the four of us rushed out to the hallway, Toni introduced me to her friend Jude - what a first impression I made! We opened up more windows in the breezeway, got some fans blowing the smoke out of my apartment and eventually got the alarm turned off before moving the potluck to Toni's apartment for the night. BALLS.
Indidentally, no Yorkshire pudding came to pass at last night's potluck. Instead, I contributed a bottle of wine, and a mild case of holy-shit-that-could-have-been-REALLY-bad shock. Yikes. I am one lucky lady that nothing major happened and that Ben was around to do all the real work.
Toni posted this on the Potluck's Facebook group, which I found aptly appropriate:
Well, it was a small group tonight, 8 folk in total, and what can I say? You did me proud! With Ben's Yellow Tail wine, Jude's Jacob's Creek wines, Jay's Chocolate Almond & Coconut minis & Lime & Chilli almonds, Kim & Isa's home-made meat & vege pies, Desi's tuna & chickpea patties, and of course my lamb & mashed tatas, the joys of home came to the foreground. Noelle's Yorkshire pudding, however, was irrefutably the absolute best ~ it almost bought the house down. Sharp memories of being warned to expect to evacuate my home in Australia as surrounding bushfires closed in, with smoke in our lungs & tears in our eyes, sirens blaring in the background as we hurriedly pack our precious belongings . . . thank you Noelle, we shall talk about your Yorkshire Pudding for at least another 6 months :))
And so, last night, my poor, burnt, mangled toaster oven found its new home at the top of the trash pile outside. I'll miss you, little buddy. Until I replace you, that is.
